Said To The Bursting Grapes.

One Reason Why Seseme Street Lacked In-Depth Muppet Emotional Drive -

The human characters seemed to always interfere.

There was a need to explain things to the muppets, such as when Big Bird and Zoe get into arguments over toys, they are not left alone to rock-scissor-paper-out the problem, a human intervenes and BANG - they have to share. They are informed only briefly that sharing is caring but the question of what can be conisdered "caring" is never raised.

The two learn nothing of accepting defeat and acknowledging that their choices (such as choosing paper instead of scissors) led to their failure.

On this note the characters of Bert and Ernie are refreshing and eye-opening characters, as their love-hate relationship and seperate talents, emphasise how they are interdependent yet still individual.

Elapsing Gaps of TIme.

I have, for a while now, made it a habit to turn the key when closing the window in my room three times.

Three. Not One or Two. I do this because (oh yes, it is a sensible reason indeed) - because - the lock's on the dodgy side and doesn't seem to lock when I turn the key once. Neither does it lock the second time, because that's the equivalent of openign it again. SO I must - I truly must- turn that key three times.

Smash It Up.

It has been (counting with fingers) three full days of family, food, festive spirit, catching up, laying back, ritual ripping of wrapping paper and wearing a different pair of shoes for each different outfit.

I can proudly say, I have a box of candy and chocolate. I am seriously contemplating putting the chocolate in the fringe in case they melt - but the fridge is considered open to all and that means other grubby hands will tain my well saved stash. I should get a solid three days out of my haul, based on the estimate that I eat candy with every meal.

The next order of business is that of the cat that lives in my cousins backyard. It has no name, it has green eyes, is skinny, small, meowy-like and likes milk in chinese containers. I like cats. Well, my cousins backyard always has some sort of animal living in it. Bunnys, chickens, dogs, ducks and so on. Now it's only a cat left. It let me poke its head.

Lastly, ladies and gentlemen - I woke up in such a panic because I couldn't feel my spine. It wasn't a dream and oh did I panic, I began pushing pillows and scratching at my back. I twisted like a worm in the mouth of a bird and then I reached success, my spine is well now.

The Truth About Pink Clouds.

What I see outside the window: concrete illuminated and heated by sunshine, straight palm tree trunk, cloudless sky with wires criss corssing along poles of dead trees, soft breeze and mouldy roof tiles.

What I see in this room: cream walls, yellow tissue box, messy plate of attacked lychees, paper sitting patiently in the printer, lonely highlighter of ugly orange and softly moving curtain from artificially created inside breeze.

What I feel at this moment: no sensation in feet due to cross-legged seating on wheely chair, press of large earphones on head (flattening hair) and comfortable t-shirt covering back of neck which was bitten by one hungry mosquito.

What I now see outside the window: palm tree branch in the shape of a fish skeleton, little bird sitting in a tree cleaning itself, lazy day and the peeling paint on the neighbours garage.

Don't Nut.

I must confess.

I never really believed in Santa or the Easter Bunny Rabbit. For that, I am sorry. Furthermore, it saddens me to inform all of you, that I am a terrible present wrapper. I use too much sticky tape and despite the fact I know (I truly do) that it is wasteful and pointless (I know too, the presents will be ripped open).

On that note, I am waiting very patiently for the New Year to arrive.

The advice that stands out in my memory, came from a PE teacher at Primary School. Lovely lady. She told us -

"Girls, if there's two things you should do in life it's this -

Learn to drive a manual and learn to change a tyre."



I can do neither.

The Effort Was Painful.

Yes, I adore everything.

Right down to the stitching of my shirt, which by now, is frayed. Well, I've been thinking about getting a new one - that I'd adore equally - but I adore my wallet, with coins so dull and dirty from being passed hand to hand, with probably half of them, palms and all - neither washed or moisturised.

Then I looked at the dirty carpet, of my humble room. It has taken on a charming greyish tone, from all the goings and more so, comings back and forth, back and forth. Except for under the bed, under there, the shoes and the lack of walking have left it dirt free. As it should be.

I got rid of empty bottles, I threw out an empty bottle which once upon a time, was filled with iron tablets. Then an empty sorbolene container, followed by an empty roll-on deodorant. Yeah, I moved on. I didn't need them.

There is a momentum now, pent up and emobodied in the bin, which is situated under my desk. See, now it stores the empty containers (which I must repeat, I realise now I no longer need) and it waits patiently (for now). It waits with a serenity and calmness that baffles me. Well, I know (I just do) that I will empty out the bin. Sooner or later. I hope I do.

Moxie Pink. It's In.

I saw a fox-dog the other day. Fox-dog it was, for I can be sure that I could not discern whether it was more foxish or doggish and oh, it was perplexing.

It had the type of bushy tail you associate with the fox-types. It's face was on the pointy side, but it hinted some sort of doggish ancestry.

So, I've concluded fox-dog it shall have to be, forever in my memory. It strutted in a feline manner though, or maybe I've wrongly interpreted its trot. Nevermind, my point is the fox-dog looked rather skinny. I realise it may have been molested (by a man in a brown trench coat or some disgruntled motorist) and it was sniffing, in its fox-dog way, sniffing for food - or perhaps a smell-trail to an exclusive underground fox-dog nightclub (which operates in the day, just to baffle the humans.)

I would like to think, if I had approached the fox-dog, that at a polite distance I could ask -

"Excuse me, Sir (I think it was a Sir, by the step and figure of the intriguing mammal) pray, what are you? For I do not know and would not like to offend."

To that, the fox-dog would trot (skip, bounce, what have you) over to me and would sniff at my kneecaps, then look up at me, grinning all the while -

"Why, I am a fox-dog and aren't I the most splendid fox-dog you have seen?"

"Of course, of course Mr. Fox-Dog Sir. I should so like to breakfast with you, but I have appointments to go too."

"Such a pity, I was just about to invite you to the exclusive fox-dog nightclub, that's held in the day."

"Truly? Oh I should like to attend one day."

"Then it is arranged, at 1600 hours this very afternoon, will you accompany me for my second visit? The gherkins on rye bread are rather fantastic."

"Oh, it does sound pleasant indeed."

Then Mr. Fox-Dog, for by now we would have made friends and exchanged clumps of hair for identification and affilliation purposes, would trot along and I would attend to my pressing business. Mr Fox-Dog indeed.

Moonlight is Never Out of Date.

It worked out terribly, is all I can say.

It happened something like this. I was looking for a red beret. A nice, red one. To wear on bad-hair days.

So I looked, of course I looked. Here and there, staring at this and that until - smack and bang - I was holding all these bags (plastic ones) and I still - still, had no red beret.

I got side tracked, you see - this and that turned into wanting this and that and shhhhaaazzaam I had it. For those few seconds of knowing you owned something, hell it was brilliant.

This and that, oh let me tell you - was euphoric.

The type of happiness you know only after it goes and with hindsight - oh - you sure feel down. Like the gutter. Then, you end up only with the plastic bags and you're all

"Damn this and that"

and like a spider with no web, you realise how you still didn't find that damn red beret, you berate yourselve, for being fickle and getting side tracked and not being focused. Oh it's all very silly.

So you see yourselve as a spider (with no red beret) and you feel like a gutter and you think you're silly and oh, it's tragic

(like what was on the news, the movie you saw last night and all the poverty stricken nations you've bothered to give a fleeting thought to.)

Oh yes, it is dull indeed and this time around - with or without that damn beret you're determined, hell yes.

Of All The Gin Joints.

I was thinking, yeah I was thinking - truly I was. I was thinking about that song, but then I wasn't.

You know, when you half-heartedly think about one thing and then jump to another.

Yeah you're leaping and bounding in your head thinking about some sort of tune, yeah those tunes they get stuck they do

- so you're thinking about this and wham you're thinking about that and so altogether you're pretty spiffed at yourself, so you start humming

- oh boy do you start humming.

So there's you, lil' old you walking along - not singing a damn song - but humming - as you do when you're in a humbuggity mood. Yeah, that's it - it's the mood of the whole thing and it's great.

It sure is.

You're all rosy smiles and even the lil shaggy white dog, it sits itself down near the fence and watched you walk by with its big old watery eyes and it's cute as a button you just wish it was yours.

Oh boy, you sure do.

Here's to looking at you, kid.

Oh yes, it has been getting worse.

Have you noticed the symptoms Kiddo?

Well, it's all there. The chaffed fingers can easily be fixed with some vaseline. Yeah - that stuff is potent.

B complex will patch her spirits up. Patch them up good now. No, gently - like you're peeling and apple.

Oh yes, deary dear - it has been getting worse.

Listen, we're a couple of years off tapping into that well of immortality, you know - they've already started advertising a 200ml bottle of the stuff for $28.95 - but I tell you what, you hang in there, just hang right on in there and the first bottle I can order in - it'll be yours.

You hear that Kiddo, it'll be alright - just pay a deposit of $10.95 and the deal is done.

Oh, no credit either Kiddo. Hard, cold, paper, right in my palm.

And How.

I got bit by the cleaning bug. Well, half-bit. Half-bit that is. Half wanted to clean, half didn't. You know?

Yeah, I'm sure you do.

I cleaned out the wardrobe and the pile of unused clothes, many with tags still on was pretty high. Damn I says.

Damn.

After that one hour stint, with hangers and all that jazz I look at the bed.

Yeah that bed, it sure does that too you.

The sheets looked all crumply and I couldn't, simply couldn't - bring myself to sleep on them. So what did I do - well what can a doll do faced with such a situation?

You gotta get rid of em, in the washing basket they go and on you spread a cleaner set - straight from the linen cupboard.

Afterwards, that self-satisfaction of knowing - yeah - yeah, I cleaned all that - makes you bubble.

Only get that feeling after a good half-clean. It's the heelot in me.

All The Bells and Whistles.

So I was sitting, yeah - I was sitting and waiting and drinking a litre carton of chocolate flavoured soy milk and it was hot - yeah it was hot - but I didn't mind because the milk was cold - yeah it was cold.

Machine-guns and artillery were the main weapons for maintaining defence. Yeah - defence. WWI defence that is. Damn them machine guns doing all that mowing down and the Somme. Yeah the Somme, research it one day.

But tanks. What about em tanks? They could like, mow down them machine guns,

Yeah?

Yeah?

Yeah maybe, except for the fact at the beginning of WWI they were shithouse and went (say about) 5-6km/h and broke down easily. Yeah, poor tanks were useless.

Only em machine guns - yeah them machine guns and that artillery, oh with the schrapnel and the explosives they go campoweeee and whack, your trench is taken.

Stalemate, no you stalemate! Yeah there was a stalemate and trench warfare was more dfensive. The Germans kicked ass in in depth defence, because their trenches see - see their trenches were better than them British.
Those British and French folk like, had crappy trenches.
But everyone had rats. Lots of fat rats.

So the milk - yeah it was cold but I was waiting for a bit and ended up drinking it all. Afterwards I felt a lil sick because I had guzzled it all down, but I though - yeah I thought about that movie Meet John Doe.

Good movie that is, yeah Gary Cooper did some good acting in it. It had a good plotline and yeah - all over good movie (film, moving picture etc.)

Good bit of dialogue about em damn HEELOTS. Do read his lovely speech on you damn heelot.

COLONEL
Listen, sucker, yuh ever been broke?

BEANY
Sure. Mostly often.

COLONEL
All right. You're walking along—not a nickel in your jeans—free as the wind—nobody bothers you—hundreds of people pass yuh by in every line of business—shoes, hats, automobiles, radio, furniture, everything. They're all nice, lovable people, and they let you alone. Is that right?

Then you get hold of some dough, and what happens?
All those nice, sweet, lovable people become heelots.

A lotta heels.
They begin creeping up on you—trying to sell you something. They've got long claws and they get a strangle-hold on you—and you squirm—and duck and holler—
and you try to push 'em away—but you haven't got a chance—they've got you! First thing you know, you own things. A car, for instance.

And what happens? You're not the free and happy guy you used to be.
You gotta have money to pay for all those things—so you go after what the other feller's got—
And there you are—you're a heelot yourself!



So it got me thinking, see, it got me thinking about them machine guns in WWI and heelots.

The chocolate milk that is, got me all full up thinking, because I was waiting - yeah I was waiting. The home fronts in like - total war - that's right, total damn war where everyone's in on it and their all heelots.

With their income taxes, war bonds and them DORA laws. Yes, DORA.

The heelots see, the heelots got a hold of em.

Then I was thinking again, yeah I wasn't that tired so I could do a bit of that. I was thinking of the milk and how, it was all cold and nice see.
It was hot outside and I was just sitting, waiting, goofing about with the empty carton by this stage and it came ot me.

Slowly, like that Somme battle and the slow walking and then the quick dying. If you were lucky.

I was a damn heelot. With soy milk in my tummy and thoughts of WWI defensive strategies in me heelot head. In my heelot wallet I had some coin and my shoes, with their smug soles hugged a heelot's feet.

Ill ne passeront pas. (They shall not pass) - General Henri Phillipe Petain.

So I was sitting - yeah I was sitting. No longer guzzling away at the heelot milk I had, but just thinking. It was a war where the weapons suited defence.