Ever notice how it's the little things in life that amuse us so much? More to the point, ever notice how it's the silly little idiocies in life that amuse us more than anything else? Well, this is not as much ''the little blog that could'' as it is ''the blog that enjoys going up the down escalator in your local mall.'' Will it have anything of real importance? No, probably not. But enjoy the ride never the less!

 
Hypothetically Speaking (or, "You Wrote WHAT To Neil Gaiman?!")

Dear Mr. Gaiman,

I have been a fan of your works now for respectively 3-4 years, and seeing as how you are considered by many, myself included, to be such an insightful and respected author (though if for some reason you are in fact not, you certainly have one of the most impressive publicists the world has ever seen, and that unto itself is a compliment, though probably more for the publicist) of things both of the real world and of the somewhat surreal, perhaps you can help me in puzzling out a conundrum.

It’s all a hypothetical conundrum, of course, since these sorts of things simply do not happen in the “modern and civilised” world, and we would not want to lead the gentle public into believing such farcical, faerie things. It just would not do! And imagine the lawsuits it might garner for false advertising and/or misrepresentation of the real world. I shudder to think! (Though only regarding the lawsuits; I’m actually quite fond of thinking as whole, you must realise.)

Now again, this is all hypothetical, you must understand. What would you say if, hypothetically, I were to wake up early one morning to the most peculiar of noises coming from my backyard, which incidentally has a very nice hypothetical wooden fence, a rather elegant, hypothetical birdbath made from some sort of greyish stone, and a well-manicured hypothetical lawn.

If we were to suppose that I crawled out from my nice warm bedsheets and stared out my window, what would you say if, hypothetically of course, I discovered that my wonderful birdbath had been taken over, infested if you will, by pixies.

Now I would not be entirely sure if they were, hypothetically, pixies or instead some other form of small, winged faerie-creature, but they would seem to be generating a fair amount of hypothetical noise, what with their splashing and water games and all that hypothetical pixie nonsense.

So here we come to the crux of the conundrum, good Sir. Hypothetically, I would not necessarily want to have to explain the hypothetical commotion to any neighbours, as they would think that I had lost my hypothetical mind. So, how exactly would one go about ridding oneself of pixies frolicking in a hypothetical birdbath, where they are certainly not most welcomed (or even least welcomed, as I’m sure no one would appreciate a rather garrulous tournament of pixie water-volleyball at six in the morning), hypothetically speaking and all?

I thank you for your time, your patience, and any future hypothetical answers you might be willing to give.

Yours,

P.R. Smith (who is, of course, NOT actually trapped in this hypothetical situation, since it’s all hypothetical and naturally could not be real because it is simply too fantastic to be believed)

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FOOTNOTE:

For those of you wondering, Neil Gaiman is the acclaimed author of The Sandman graphic novels, as well as the novels Neverwhere, Stardust and American Gods. He's been an incredible influence on not only the way I write, but in how I try to see the world in general. You can visit his homepage here: http://www.neilgaiman.com/index.asp

And I really have no idea what Mr. Gaiman will think when he reads this, let alone whether or not he will make any sort of response to this. But I had fun with it, and would like to think that I helped make his day a little more surreal than usual--which unto itself is difficult, since this is Neil Gaiman, after all.

(Apologies for no hyperlink to his homepage, as my Little Bit O' Nowhere seems to think I have somehow vexed him mightily, and refuses to post the link so you can simply click and go.)


posted by Phillip at 4:09 PM

 
Where, O Where Has My Little Bit Of Nowhere Gone?

Do any of you recall the remark I made a few days back about the archives telling how I now have a fiance? Well, apparently that little bit of nowhere has gone somewhere, and been rather rude in not bothering to tell me where it went or even why. It did not even have the dignity of sending me a postcard! Oddly enough that little bit of fiance-filled nowhere shows up on my editing page, but on the actual webpage it's been sucked into the middle-of-nowhere-squared.

It irks me. Much irkage is being had right now. I am a veritable fount of irkiness at the moment.

So, here we go: the engagement announcement, take 2!

[3/22/2003 2:08:45 PM]
Matching Bride & Handkerchief....
Fiance.

I've been trying out that word a lot in the past day or two, and discovering that it really sounds and feels different from saying "girlfriend."

Fiance has such a strange, new ring to it. There is an undeniable feeling of taking a new step forward in the hopscotch of life. It's uncharted, not entirely unexpected, and will probably prove to be exciting in any event. I have to say that after seeing and reading of so many failures in relationships, marriages and love these days, I'm not without my concern. Yet I'm not without great optimism and hope in what Melissa and I share together lasting until the ends of our days.

Or until I'm old and senile and forget that I have pants, let alone a wife.

It won't be this week that it all happens. It may not be this month. Heck, it may even take a year or so to pass before the actual ceremony occurs. But this is our commitment to each other, and the promise that one day it will happen. I'm thrilled to know that Melissa wants to wear our engagement ring. Likewise she's thrilled that I opted to not tattoo "Melissa" and "Phillip" in big black letters on each of my thighs.

I'm sure that in the future both Melissa and I will ask ourselves, "Just what did I see in you, and why did I agree to this?" There will be all sorts of fun, wanted and unwanted, as we prepare a wedding and adjust to living together. All these adult things are necessary, and can come in due time. I'll be ready to tackle them.

But for the moment, let me bask in this child-like awe and wonder at what it means to have a fiance.

posted by Phillip at 7:22 AM

 
I Love You, Mr. DeNiro!

Monday's "Rum Day" was postponed to today. Not necessarily because a "Rum Day" was needed today, but because it's always good to finish the things that you intend to start, even if they have to be delayed for a little while. So much rum was had in the company of friends, and there was much rejoicing. Happily there was also not a lot of hommage being paid to the porcelain god, so there's also added reason to rejoice.

Dance, peasants! Dance for me!!


posted by Phillip at 6:55 PM

 
It's Not The Age, It's The Mileage.

Birthdays are meant to be a time of celebration, if not denial at how old we've become since last year. You grow a little bit wiser, and little bit more immature. You discover just how many friends you really have by how many free rounds they buy you, and how evil your friends are depending on how many free rounds they buy you (repeat after me: one tequilla, two tequilla, three tequilla, floor). You bask in the glory of a horde of presents, and then demure and say it's all about the friends.

Today, Melissa (my fiance for those of you just joining this little bit of nowhere, and are too lazy to read the archives) celebrates having survived 22 years of life. This unto itself is impressive since I'm having a damned hard time trying to remember just how old I am.

Come to think of it, I am 23 currently...er, maybe 24...or perhaps I'm 23 after all...um, can I buy a vowel, Vanna?

But back to my wonderful Mel. I honestly wish that your 22 years could have been much, much better, and that today would be cause for you to sit back and laugh yourself silly amongst good friends and family. Alas, I doubt there will be much cause for festive celebration. Even still, know this: if it hadn't been for those 22 years, I wouldn't have a beautiful fiance to drive people to insanity from raving about you night & day (with just a little break around tea-time).

So let it be known around the world that Melissa's birthday is today, and may as many glasses as possible over the course of tonight be raised in her honour. May there be fond memories, best wishes, and a plentitude of "Cheers!" without the next-day hangovers or yarfing.

Happy birthday, Melissa. I love you!


And in other news, I have become most vexed to discover that the nice white shirt I'm currently wearing has some sort of stain or wrinkle that makes my right nipple very obvious. It's a rather difficult thing to describe, save for that my nipples should not be so obvious when I'm wearing this shirt, but for some reason I can suddenly see a circular mark of some kind (almost like a round coffee stain) that is directly over my right nipple and the surrounding areola. It's very blatant, and making me rather paranoid that I'm going to offend someone by showing off my right nipple.

I still remain boggled at how such a thing could happen. Did I sweat too much when I last wore it, specifically around the right nipple? Did the shirt just get wrinkled in a way that makes me believe that God really does have a deranged sense of humour? I don't think I'll ever know the answer, and perhaps there are some things that humanity just is not meant to know....


posted by Phillip at 3:10 PM

 
April 1st: A Day Set Aside For Idiots.

In keeping with the day's fine tradition of pulling legs and yanking out leg hair, I feel the need to air a few things off my chest.

I am the illegitimate child of Brittney Spears and David Arquette. I've also sworn off world domination, have shaved my head and also convered to Buddhism (though I'm still deliberating between Mahayana or Zen). I am in fact a Tolkein-loving, midget porn star who goes by the name of Bilboner Bag'ems. I'm not wearing any pants right now. This morning for breakfast, I drank the spit of a herd of zebras, and then washed it down with a gallon of sawdust & milk. In a previous life I was one of the elephants Hannibal used to cross the mighty Alps. I am a card-carrying Communist (though does it matter if the card in question is a library card?). And I have been tapped to write the screenplay for Hollywood's upcoming blockbuster: Titanic 2, Sink Harder.

Only one of those statements were true. Sadly, it's the one about me not wearing any pants....


posted by Phillip at 6:23 PM

 
I'll have a glass of what he's having, but can I have an umbrella in mine?

Well, if this little bit of nowhere is any indication, I'm still alive and ticking. Whether or not my ticking has anything to do with the watch I swallowed yesterday has yet to be seen, though. The past few days have been a blur of bad, good, not-so-good, so-good-it's-bad, goodie-goodie-gosh, oh-shit-that's-bad, and bad-dog-no-biscuit moments all coalescing together to leave me thinking, "Today is a Rum day."

Now while I don't exactly condone getting so drunk that you wake up the next morning handcuffed to a goat and on a cargo ship bound for Sydney, Australia, there are days where I think a little bit of escape from the Wide & Wonderful World O' Stress is good. Today finds me sorely tempted to hook up with a good Irish friend of mine and commiserate the respective past week. Whether or not that happens remains unknown, and the odds are no one else will really know until tomorrow's little bit of nowhere. (And even then, it'll only be evident depending on how much I groan about atoning with hangover from hell.)

Yet amidst all the turmoil and dust that's still waiting to settle, I cannot help but look at my life and its current circumstances, and take stock of it. This has brought me to consider how people look at the things around them based on their worldview.

There are those who look at the proverbial glass of water that life has given them, and say pessimistically, "That glass is half empty!" Others, usually optimists, will say "Hey, it's half full!" The paranoid delusionist would think that the water was contaminated by some secret government agency. Hollywood would spend $120 million to make a movie about the water, and have a lot of special effects added. A Canadian barfly would say, "Oh, I guess we're drinking American beer tonight." Moses would part the water in the glass. A wise and worldly philosopher would argue that we see through the glass darkly, and should not be so quick to draw conclusions about the water. The ventriloquist would drink all the water while his dummy would count backwards from ten. My good Irish friend would stare down at the water and wonder just who the hell had stolen his glass of beer and switched it with the water.

All in all, I can't exactly be thrilled with my current situation, but at the same time I cannot rightfully whine when there are others who have a much more unpleasant life to contend with. I'm suddenly reminded of Dr. Seuss' Did I Ever Tell You How Lucky You Are? and I am indeed thankful that I am not some clothes hanger left hanging on a wire in the middle of nowhere, forlorn and forgotten and unloved.

Where am I going with this? I'm not exactly sure, which is pretty much the same answer I have for anyone asking me what's happening in my life right now, and what my plans are for the future. But I promise you I'll think of something.

No guarantees it will make sense, but I'll try...


posted by Phillip at 1:44 PM