Thursday, October 30, 2008

Poppycock Figures It Out


“Well, I jolly well can’t understand it!” Professor Molly P’ohlig exclaimed to no-one in particular. “If this goes on much longer, I shall be driven to drink.”

“Oh no,” Maude said, staggering a bit with the Poppycock afternoon tea service. “Not another!”

“I’m afraid so,” Professor Emilia DeBusque sighed, gathering up a large amount of crumpled wrapping paper. “Another anonymous prezzie.”

“Look, it’s been a month. Maybe we’re just not analyzing things properly.” Molly flounced down into her chaise lounge. “Perhaps if we make a list of the presents, we can find some sort of common theme. Maudie, do you have a—oh, thank you.”

Maude proffered both the pen, which Molly was getting ready to ask for, and the tea, which she would have asked for several minutes later. She piped up again, “And the—oh, yes, thank you.” Maude popped the inkwell onto the small side table.

“Alright, the first was….well, the Orient Express, I suppose,” Emily slumped wearily into her own chaise, as Maude immediately began to rub her temples with her extra-soothing fingers. She was exhausted, having spent nearly an hour hard at work on the latest effort from Aravind Adiga, who was eager to follow up on his Booker prize success. “And then there was…oh, the Tiffany lamp. I do think it looks lovely on my desk.”

Everyone turned momentarily to admire the muted light emanating from the Irregular Upper Border shade, circa 1899, apparently purchased recently at Sotheby auction house for upwards of ₤4,000,000, if Mr. Periwinkle’s detective skills were to be trusted, and they usually were, provided he hadn’t been at the port. They quickly returned to the mystery at hand.

“Next came the case of 1975 Chateau Mouton Rothschild wine with the Andy Warhol labels,” Molly said with the slightest hint of a grumble in her voice. “Never did like Warhol, they can’t be very good friends of ours.”

“Interesting,” Emily said thoughtfully, having a go at a cream scone. “Note that down – they may be sending us very expensive things, but they don’t seem to know what we really like. I, for one, might have preferred a more reasonably priced crate of wine and a signed Edward Ruscha print.”

“Noted, Emily. I certainly would have known that, as would Maude and Mr. Periwinkle, and indeed any of our close friends. Not that we didn’t like the trip or the lamp, but, well, who doesn’t like the Orient Express and Tiffany lamps?” Molly wrinkled her nose delicately in concentration. “Then was….oh! The tailor!”
Molly referred to what was surely the most enigmatic gift. Mr. Periwinkle had rushed in one day shouting with glee. He’d taken the liberty of opening a small envelope with the return address of “A Friend” (Mr. Periwinkle was unduly concerned with what he perceived to be the constant threat of terrorism via post). He’d been delighted to find that instead of the anthrax he was expecting, he found a letter informing Poppycock Enterprises of their introduction to one of Savile Row’s foremost fashion houses, Hardy Amies. The letter also stated that a large sum had been placed in the company’s accounts at their disposal. This gift was vexing for two reasons – one, Molly, Emily, and Maude all had quite defined tastes in clothing, none of them tending towards the fusty tailoring of Savile Row. They would much have preferred introductions to the houses of Dior, Prada, and Marc Jacobs, as anyone who took a peek into their closets might have surmised. Two, the firm had gone into administration that very month, and the girls weren’t keen on dealing with that sort of thing.

“Well, what’s the newest one?” Maude asked. Molly and Emily looked at each other, and then pointed to the basket by the door. It contained a puppy. “Gordon Bennett!”

The girls looked back at Maude, puzzled, who said sheepishly, “Just a curious sort of exclamation that Mr. Periwinkle told me about. But are you telling me that the latest gift is really a puppy?”

Everyone rose and scurried over. Molly prodded the basket gently with a slipper-clad foot. “It certainly is sleepy. And wherever is its tail?”

Emily clapped a hand over her mouth in astonishment. “I can’t believe we didn’t notice think of it before! It all adds up – the ridiculously expensive, hard to find gifts, the tailor, the Corgi – our mystery benefactor is the Queen!”

The puppy woke up and made a little yipping sound. They all looked down and Molly said, “Queen or no Queen, it’s not staying in my room.”

* * *

“What a positively sweet old lady,” Maude mused, tucking her feet snugly under an eiderdown blanket. “And what a lovely place to send us.”

“Yes, I’d seen the pictures, but it’s much nicer in person, isn’t it?” Emily stretched her arms over her head and gazed up at the walls just dripping with portraits of the royal family.

Molly stretched her hands closer to the roaring fire in the tremendous marble hearth. “I think we’ll be able to polish her memoir nicely here. Isn’t it funny that she wouldn’t just ask us to help with her memoirs?”

“She seems a bit shy, don’t you think? Maybe it’s those dreadful Hardy Amies suits she’s been wearing for so long.” Molly winked and there were giggles all ‘round. For a few drowsy moments they all stared into the fire, and they were only roused from their reveries by the approaching noise of a rather small animal padding towards them. “Ah, Evelyn, old boy, enjoying your first night in Balmoral Castle? We’ve got two lovely weeks to run around, but tonight, you’re sleeping in my room.”

Friday, October 3, 2008

Dreams 101


Troubled by dreams? It’s no surprise. Things that have their own proper and distinct meanings in reality become frightening and confusing once you go to sleep. In this excerpt from the new book from Poppycock Enterprises, Ltd., Vexing Dreams and What to Do About Them, you will see at a glance that it is a comprehensive tome that will soon allay any fears you may have about your nocturnal visions. Take a look…

If you dream about…

A UNION SUIT -- To dream of a union suit is a unique symbol that is generally accepted as a PROPHECY that a painful amputation is in your future. The unionsuit is your subconscious mind's (ultimately doomed) attempt to keep the body intact.

CHAIN SMOKING -- You always had the sneaking suspicion that your mother favoured your little sister over you; well, that suspicion was well founded. Moreover, you're adopted. If, in the dream, you were able to break the habit of chain-smoking, your birth family lives in a well-heeled subdivision of Ottawa. If you were not able to wrench yourself from the clutches of nicotine, sadly, your family perished 13 years ago in a fire at their trailer park in the Ozarks.

A THIMBLE DISPLAY CASE -- Thimble display cases denote intense or obsessive self-defensiveness in your life. The idea of shielding (in a display case) an object which also shields (your thumb) is far too much shielding and you need to calm down and be vulnerable for a minute or two every day.

HAIRBALLS -- You'd better get yourself to an emergency room, stat, because it is entirely likely that you have been munching on your hair in your sleep. Take a look in the mirror. I was right, wasn't I?

A MONGOLIAN WEIGH STATION -- A Mongolian weigh station is a frequent and significant theme in the dreams of Mongolian weigh station attendants.

A STAPLER -- You feel trapped in your loveless marriage. This will become a recurring dream. It is imperative that you train yourself not to fear this stapler (it is most likely quite large) and under no circumstances attempt to remove any staples which, in the dream, you will most likely see under your fingernails. That would be disastrous for your waking life. It is impossible to say how, but studies have shown that staples removed from under one's fingernails in dreams inevitably have dire consequences in reality, especially as regards your spouse's neck.

SEMOLINA -- To dream of semolina symbolizes abject blandness or blankness of mind, often due to too much or too little work. It may also represent an unspoken fear of Italian grandmothers.

EGGS -- You should be able to figure this one out for yourself, but since you obviously can't, here goes. Your biological clock is ticking so loudly that you can't think straight long enough to trap yourself a significant other. Go get yourself a copy of "The Rules" and get down to business before your womb is as barren as the Gobi Desert. If you have this dream more than once, you're looking at a window of about six months. If you have it three times, you might want to look into single parent adoption.

KANSAS -- Dreaming of Kansas is a Dorothy Galesque longing for happier and/or simpler times, when witches rode bikes, not brooms, and tornadoes ravaged the land. Alternatively, a dream of Kansas may also be an indirect symbol of Arkansas.

PLAYING THE PIANO -- You're in love with your father.

CRACKED TEACUPS -- Many people have dreams about their teeth falling out. You, on the other hand, have dreams about cracked teacups. It's alright, it just means that you're different. YOU WILL NEVER BE LIKE THE OTHERS. YOU are the cracked teacup. But think about it this way -- they are the missing teeth. Now which one would you really rather be?

ELVIS PRESLEY -- (see also, CHAIN SMOKING and MEDALLIONS) There are three generally acknowledged types of Elvis Presley dreams. If you dream of a. youthful, new-on-the-music-scene Elvis, you probably have some sort of dark secret that you are repressing, one that you most likely keep somewhere in your closet, cough cough. And you should let it out. If you dream of b. wartime Elvis, you crave a sense of order in your life. Be careful though, you don't want to over organize. If you dream of c. fat, greasy Elvis....have you ever spoken to anyone about a living will?

A FROZEN CHICKEN -- Another common dream symbol that can represent a variety of things, depending on different factors. See the below questions to determine what your personal frozen chicken means.

-- Are you anorexic? That's no frozen chicken, that's you.
-- Are you left-handed? You will always struggle with your feelings of inadequacy.
-- Is the chicken sitting in a pool of liquid? You have food poisoning.
-- Do you speak French? It's coq au vin to you.
-- Are you bullied at school? See above for Are you anorexic?

MISMATCHED SHOES -- Mismatched shoes are commonly thought to be representative of traumatic childhood events since buried in the annals of memory. If you're close with your siblings, or still maintain contact with childhood friends, it might be a good idea to talk with them and see if they remember anything out of the ordinary. Don't bother calling your parents, you most likely never told them, and if you did, you'll just get a lecture on whatever heinous thing you did.

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

An Epistolary Friendship


My dear Mr. Sneekins,

Regarding the query you put to me in your letter of a few minutes ago, I must confess a certain loss if ideas or gumption pertaining to, or derived from, our mutual quest for a more suitable and rewarding occupation. Moreover, I have discovered in myself an infirm resolve to put off said quest until such time as the financial winds blow more auspiciously--although I admit that this tendency to "wait" is a perennial excuse for cowardice, not unlike that immortal ditherer, Hamlet, who let the native hue of resolution (action) be sicklied over with the pale cast of thought for most of that play which bears his name. On the other hand, it has been said by no less a venerable authority than a fortune cookie I once had, that "he who hurries cannot walk with dignity." On the other other hand, "a stitch in time saves nine." I leave you with these considerations as you pursue your own thoughts.

To conclude, I do regret the most unhelpful nature of these meditations upon a subject that is both dear and dreaded to yourself as well as myself. Allow me to further apologize for the general illogicality and gross bombast of a letter that I'm sure will only bring you great annoyance and contempt for what some may call my shriveled sense youthful ambition.

Yours most castratedly,

Philias Snelley.


* * *

dear phil,
i wrote like, half a response in the same vein as your last ridiculous email. and then i gave up. it's all very well and good for you to have such lofty ideals from where you sit, looking out the window of the mental institution, but some of us are out here working nine to five. sorry to be blunt, dude. honestly, i got so little money that the economic situation can't get much worse anyway. i'm thinking of going freelance. don't know how or where or when, but i'm hoping. anyway, dude, good luck with...whatever it is you do there, and maybe next time you write you can write me like a normal freakin' person from the 21st century, alright? i'll keep you posted, dork.
your pal,
sjefo.

* * *

{written while in the fetal position, from under a table, between weeping fits}

Mr. Sneekins, (no longer "My dear")

I must meekly protest against the tone and poor grammar of your letter of minute last. I find it in the poorest of taste to make light of my residence in The Temporary Home of Mental Sanctuary for Weary Thinkers. I am not ashamed of my mental-health-themed living situation, but nevertheless I must meekly and wimperingly protest!

Furthermore, I too "work nine to five" as you put it--I am working to "nine to five" every time I accept myself for who I am! I am working "nine to five" every time I look into the mirror and see a person who is not crazy! I would like to see you "work nine to five" while sitting in the Friendly Emotions Circle and sharing your secret inner-self as bravely as I do!! Dr. Speigelfritzen applauds my daily progress with what I believe to be sincere and candid moderation.

Further-ermore!! I challenge you to define, as you so eloquently put it, a "normal freakin' person"!! I submit for your consideration the possibility that such a person does not exist or at any rate such a person can only exist for maybe a few minutes, in utero, before the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune do dent and deform his inner self to such an extent that he is born weighed down with the eternal question marks of our human existence!!!

On a professional note, your notion of freelancing is a good one. I wish you the best of luck in that endeavor and will be sure to notify you if anything, as our Dickensian friend Mr. Micawber so frequently hoped, "turns up."

Yours most placated,

Philias Snelley

* * *

snells, you old rascal,
oh come off your high horse. the Temporary Home of Mental Sanctuary for Weary Thinkers? last time i visited, i'm pretty sure that the sign read 'the Terminal Habitat for Madness, Sorrow, and Wasted Time. i, i , i am a 'normal freakin' person'. i got my job, which does not once in the entire day consist of mooning over my sad reflection. i consult with no doctors, and although i do frequently attend happy hour, it is almost always AFTER work. and let me remind you, snelley-o, that the reason for your incarceration was not, as you, admittedly, quite eloquently put it, "born weighed down with the eternal question marks of our human existence!!" it's because you were in home ec class that one day when quincy smejkat spilled a jumbo box of sewing needles in your lap. i heard that you screamed non-stop for three hours.
anywho, best of luck with your 'career', too. can you hear me snickering from here? in case you can't, please find attached to this letter the tape that i've made of myself snickering. it's forty five minutes each side.
later,
sjefo

* * *

Sneekins.

I have listened to your tape several times now. When I am alone (never) or when I am allowed under supervision to have headphones taped to my ears, I listen to the tape you so thoughtfully sent with your last letter.

Yours snickers torment me.

I would forgive you, for you know not what you do, but I was just informed that I'm to "graduate" in two months time, at which juncture I will seek you and find you and continue this conversation with you.

Yours most murderously,

Philias Snelley

--as dictated to Neil Smeck, Security Companion, T.M.S.W.T Insitution

* * *

Telegram for Mr. Philias Snelley, Inmate #785 of T.M.S.W.T. Institution.

MESSAGE -- Phil STOP You're wrong STOP I know exactly what I do STOP You bring it on STOP If you can find me STOP Sjefo