Neal’s Belch no. 195 for 2nd Feb, 2005
The world of botany has always held a fascination for me, particularly since I discovered that the humble bumblebee spends practically all of it’s life performing sexual acts on flowers.
Up until recently I had been under the mistaken impression that bees mated with birds to produce human children. Obviously the gaping hole in the logic had escaped my notice, and it had not occurred to me that if insects, and creatures of the air, are busy making offspring for us, there is nobody around to produce the young of their own species.
Then it occurred to me that perhaps chocolate insects and Easter Eggs and the like are created as some sort of external womb for their young. But that would be silly. The answer to everything is always closer to home, and Easter Eggs are invariably made in Switzerland , during the two extra months of the year which they have to spare, thanks to excellent Swiss’ time-keeping devices which ensure everything is done ahead of schedule.
I’ve always been a great believer in doing things ahead of schedule.
This morning I got up at seven o’clock , despite not needing to rise until ten past. I have pocketed the extra ten minutes and intend to put it towards a new entertainment centre for my four cats. One of them has expressed an interest in listening to Schubert’s “The Trout” twice a day as an alternative to eating fish, as the vet has made it clear in no uncertain terms that he needs to eat less fish.
Fortunately cats are able to derive nutrition from thoughts alone, which create suitably flavoured salivative juices in their mouths and make them feel like they’ve had a square meal. I myself always make sure to have a square meal at lease four times a week. Obviously it has to be four times and no other number.
Otherwise it’s not square. It’s more likely to be pentagonal or octagonal in a leap year; assuming you do it in the week of the 29th of February, which has eight days.
I’ve always refused to be bullied into having an extra day in February every four years. Instead, I take an extra day at the beginning of March, and allow myself to be out of sync with the rest of the sheep until April arrives. The minute April arrives, of course, she grabs my calendar and immediately crosses out the adjustments I have made to each day in March, hence putting it back to normal.
She bleats her head off while doing it, but I’ve trained myself not to listen, and instead hum Bohemian Rhapsody at a moderate level while discretely halfcovering my ears with my hands.
April really is a conformist asshole, but she sure does make good cheese, so I buy some off her every Thursday but I promise to pay her on one of “my” Thursdays, which of course are Wednesdays in March, so I say I’ve already paid. Effectively I get free cheese for the month of March in return for letting her re-normalise my calendar.
I refuse to be subservient of those who choose to interfere with the laws of space-time, and redistribute the four supposedly un-needed quarter days of each year into one day in every four.
Being a puppet of these people is not cool. I think Kermit the Frog explaine this best, when he said, “Hey, are we on yet? This fucking thing is really scraping against the back of my hand today. I think one of the eyes may be loose or something. By the way don’t touch the Miss Piggy puppet today. It may need to be dry-cleaned. Sorry about that, but it’s what happens if whatshisface flutters the eyelids like that. Christ I’m lonely”