Okay, now, it’s getting crowded in here!

Pretty soon we’re going to have to buy another double wide for the Axis of Weevil World Headquarters. We’ll probably have to put it up on some blocks or something because the side opposite the parking lot tends to hold water after a rain. It’ll probably look a lot like this.

IN ANY EVENT, several days past, Chet the E-Mail Boy came wheezing up the steps from the basement with a corn-flake smutted missive from another potential applicant for inclusion into the Hyperbole Society of Alabama.

After severely castigating him for getting his breakfast or lunch or snack or whatever it was all over my reading matter, I took the note in hand and saw that we had the attention of one Beth Cleaver of Mobile, Alabama. (I’m sure she never gets asked about Wally or the Beav. Or Eldridge. Or June. Rrrowll.) Anyway, Beth seems to have some sort of elephant fixation, and writes a zippy blog called My Vast Right Wing Conspiracy. I sternly ordered Chet to dust off one of our application packages and send it to Beth, and then...nothing.

Until a few days ago, that is, when Chet once more came slinking through the door, this time with the odor of cheap perfume wafting from him. I knew he’d probably been down in the basement with Miss Inez, “showing her the Linotype machine.” Randy old fellow. Anyway, he handed me the following and hurried (as much as he is able) to get back downstairs. It said:

God, what is my problem! I was just going through some of my old email in the folders...and OOPS! there you were.

I wonder if this is a take-off on that snappy rap song the kids are swingin’ to--something about, “oop, there it is.” I’ll have to ask Chet.

Apparently I stupidly stuck it in the "blog" folder and it got buried under 22,475 (not really) others since then. You and a few others I "meant to get back to," that is...

Anyway, I'm back to shamelessly beg my way into the cool crowd.

Heh. “Cool crowd.” As if.

I think I can handle just about all of the qualifications--although I can't say I have a FRAMED pic of the good Mr. Browning, at least I don't have to ask who he is!! LOL

Lol? OH, an acronym! I have got to learn what these things mean.

And I gotta admit, well, (part of) #11 and #12 are a bit operose, whatever that means...

I wish I knew, too. As you all know, Rule #11 deals with memorization of important cultural information from Monty Python and the Holy Grail and from the Andy Griffith Show. #12 has to do with proper maintenance and care of your pickup truck. Maybe operose has something to do with rocks or throwing things or mud tires. Oh, well, I’ll have Chet look it up for me later.

#10: Want some of them? I'm starting to look like a slob. OK, not starting to.

Let’s see, Qualification Ten deals with the amount of books you own. Hmm. I got nuthin’ on this one.

And what's wrong with my angry elephant! It has very good reason to be angry tonight. (D*****!)

Man, there goes all that elephant talk again! I wonder if Beth must have had a bad experience with an elephant or something. And I wonder what that word was in parentheses? Chet is very conscientious about redacting objectionable material, but occasionally it leads to a less than clear understanding of intent.

OH, whatever--Beth has everything else in the list pretty well sewn up, and if we start kicking people out because they’re touched in the head, we wouldn’t have anyone left!

I was just about to kick off the formal induction ceremonies when Chet came in the office with ANOTHER e-mail, as well as an alarmingly bright red color to his face. Either it was overexertion from hobbling up and down the steps from the basement to my office, or else Miss Wanda caught him and Miss Inez at the compositor. I dared not ask, however, because I really don’t want to hear about it.

Anyway, this missive came to us from a nice young lady here in Birmingham named Chez Shaeffer, who writes the stylish Misguided Affections blog. Chez, whose name is French and is not pronounced “cheese”, also sent along a note requesting entrance into the hallowed membership of the Heart of Dixie Discourse and Marksmanship Society!

What IS it with people? Anyway, Miss Chez was likewise sent an application package. Unfortunately, she seemed to hit a snag:

Hi Terry,

After carefully reviewing the requirements, I find myself in good standing with all except one: I have no ability to recite anything Monty Python related...well except for one line ("Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!") from a movie called Sliding Doors.

The dream of joining was nice while it lasted.

THAT’S IT?! Good grief, what in the world is the Calvinball Rule for, except for cases like this!?

So I wrote her back and let her know that we’ll be having a Monty Python executive level remedial course (concentrating on taunting, with a two-week stint on inquisiting) for the Winter Quarter of continuing education. As for the rest of the qualifications, rules and such, Chez says she (try saying that three times fast!) has the rest well in hand.

SO, WITH GREAT FANFARE, it is our rare privilege to induct not ONE, not ONE AND A HALF, but TWO new bloggers into the swollen and distended Axis of Weevil, bringing the grand total up to an astounding fifty-six! Poor demented people.

BE THAT AS IT MAY--by the power vested in me by Lloyd Tertigian, curator of the Idajean Philips Museum of Curious Bottles, I hereby INDUCT, INCANT, INSINUATE, and INSULT into full and complete membership, one Chez Shaeffer, as well as one Beth Cleaver into the tumultuous and operose fellowship of the Cotton States Writer’s Carnalage, With Signs and Wonders Following.

Congratulations, ladies, and as with all new recruits you will be receiving the World Famous Axis of Weevil Gift Pack, containing a rack of Dreamland ribs, a gallon jug of Milo’s sweet tea; a G-Lox Wedgee gun rack from Mark’s Outdoor Sports for your pickup trucks, a package of Bubba’s Beef Jerky (according to Dr. Weevil, this is homemade and is available only at the gas station at the end of Highway 82 in Bibb County); a three piece, 24 ounce box of Priester’s Pecan Logs; a box of Jim Dandy grits; a 16 ounce bottle of Dale’s Steak Sauce; AND a six pack of Buffalo Rock Ginger Ale!

AND THAT’S NOT ALL--Jimmy (from next door, not Jimmy from Accounting) promises that after he is finished with his current backlog of artistic endeavors promised to other recent inductees, he will embark on a new artistic program. Jimmy found a book in the dumpster about abstract art, and although he has made a name for himself locally with his representational works of such luminaries as Dale Jarrett and Roy Moore (done entirely with toenail clippings on plywood), he is saying that he will marshal his talents to produce what he promises will be his finest and most therapeutic works yet.

His aunt is much less impressed, however, and vows that the book Jimmy found in the dumpster is full of dirty pictures that will only aggravate his condition, a charge which Jimmy stoutly denies.

We shall see.

In any event, welcome to our two new members!
posted by Terry at 4:47:00 PM