My love, Echinoia Eeeps, is out to reinvent the chicken. Her guiding principle is to start with something that works, and make it better. In this case it means a trip to the supermarket to pick up a few packages of certified parts.
About time to check in on the Eeeps family. My love Echinoia and I have been out of touch for a while. Presumably their raw gopher diet has been treating them well, though with the Eeepses one can never be certain.
I've been invited to share Easter celebrations with the Eeeps family at their secret compound back in the woods. My love, Echinoia Eeeps, has told me that it's a three-day affair, exactly like the original, and I happen to be just the right size to fit on their cross.
Am thinking of spending Easter with my love, Echinoia Eeeps and her family, conveniently all also named Eeeps. They are G. Edward Eeeps, Cinderella Maybelle Eeeps, Mucilage Eeeps, Putron Eeeps, Weezil Eeeps, Willow Forceps Eeeps, Tuna Melody Eeeps, Forgettable Louise Eeeps, and so on. They usually like to slaughter farm animals and spray the blood on passing cars before running naked through the forest, after which they typically have a family picnic down by the lake in the park. You wouldn't believe what they can do with fried chicken.
My love, Echinoia Eeeps, comes from a family, as you might expect. It's a big one. Up to now I've been unable to count them all, partly because they swirl through family events like a storm of locusts, and partly because they put a bag over my head and throw me into the pool whenever I become deliberate. (I will be slightly more comfortable with this when the pool is finished and filled with water.) (Rather than the clan rat pack.) But it's always fun at the Eeeps compound, no matter what, and I also very seldom come home with lice any more. Sweet.
My love, Echinoia Eeeps, decided to start a chess foundation to support the family medical waste incinerator. So far she can't quite find enough chess sets to mix with the cement, and you can't make solid, decent concrete with Barbie doll heads, even though she has enough of them to replace Hoover Dam.
My love, Echinoia Eeeps, is going to night school. She wants to become a Martian. Some of her relatives already are, though the schools around here don't have classes for that, so she's shooting for a trucking license as a backup.
My love, Echinoia Eeeps, is training a fleet of rats to do her shoplifting for her now that her three-armed sister Whizzle Eeeps is retiring. She figures that a couple hundred rats are enough to carry off the required major appliances without attracting undue notice. She goes through quite a few appliances, seeing as how the Eeeps family compound is no longer served by any electric utility and has to rely on lightning strikes whenever it's time for laundry or vacuuming. It's endlessly entertaining to watch someone run a blender, at least for me.
Was going to pay my love, Echinoia Eeeps, a surprise visit at the family compound, but remembered only just in time that this is laundry month, and an unexpected visitor would at best incite an awkward disturbance. Not to mention negotiating a safe ingress past the wart hog herd.
"Crinkle." That's a word you don't hear every day, especially when applied to someone kneeling down to grab a quick snack from the cat bowl.
"Don't you like people?" she said. "A few," I replied, dabbing my lips with a napkin. "But the really good ones have gotten too expensive to bother with."
And now, a word from our prisoners.
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Me? Hoping to have lunch with the cat. (I really wish I had a cat, or vice versa.)
