The Tale of a sick noun and an adjective waiting room

Today  just didn't start as a very pleasant day.  I woke up this morning as usual at 5:13 AM and after placing on my Martha Stewart Home house slippers and morning robe, I went into the kitchen to prepare my breakfast.  I put on a kettle of water to boil for my morning glory orange mint tea, sliced up a mango to put on top of my low-fat vanilla yogurt, and then opened up a can of fancy feast for my cat, Renaldo.  This, however, was when my morning was attacked by Johnny Rain Cloud.  After placing the food into his dish and placing the garnish on top that he loves so very much, I stood up and waited and waited for Renaldo to come greet me with those plush cheeks of his... but he never came.  

After 15 horrendously long seconds, I began to get very worried and started tearing the house upside down for him.  I started with the cupboards I painted mauve last fall, because I knew how much Renaldo loves the color mauve, but he wasn't there.  He wasn't under the couch, behind the fridge, or in the dryer either.  It wasn't until I went back into my room that I found Renaldo, at 5:26 AM, just getting out of bed.  And this is when I panicked.

Never, in the 9 weeks that I've had Renaldo, has he gotten out of bed late for breakfast, but for some reason, this morning, he was an entire 13 minutes late.  Was he sick?  Was he dying?  Was he turning into an atheist?  No matter what was wrong, I knew I had to keep calm and not panic, so that is exactly what I did.

At 6:12 AM, I was sitting in the waiting room of the Emergency Room with Renaldo on my lap.  I would have taken him to the pet hospital, but at our last visit, I spotted an Obama sticker on the receptionist's desk, and thus, I couldn't go back there again.  After about 15 minutes of awkward stares from the clown fish in the fish tank, I decided to escape the hateful judgments of the world and made my way over to the magazine rack.  And what was I to find there but my daily surprise! 

Sitting on top of the November 11th, 2008 issue of Woman's Day, (I could tell by the cute little Polar Bear Cookies on the cover,) was an interesting booklet called a "Mad Libs."  I wasn't sure what to think, but as they always say, "curiosity killed the cat," which I guess is a rather poor saying for this instance because neither I or Renaldo were killed or injured by opening up the "Mad Libs" booklet.

Anyhoodle, for those of you who aren't aware of what a Mad Lib is, it's a cute little story that has words removed from it so you can add your own and become an author yourself.  They're quite silly and are more addicting than chocolate chip cookies with dark chocolate chips and a medium sized glass of skim milk.  And so, as I sat in the waiting room anticipating the arrival of the doctor who would investigate the strange behavior of my furry little feline friend, I began filling out Mad Lib after Mad Lib.  In fact, I had so much with them, I decided to post one right here on my blog.  (Plus, I figured if I posted my own original literature, I might even get a phone call for an offer to publish my own book or get my own record deal, so thus, it was a win-win decision.)  Here is my own personal creation.

New Year's Resolutions

It was New Year's Day, and I was watching Ben & Jerry's Cherry Garcia Frozen Yogurtball on TV with my friends Barbie, Nancy Reagan, Bob the Builder, and George W. Bush.

If only they truly were my friends. Well a man can dream, can't he?

"Hey, Nancy Reagan," Bob the Builder said, "What is your New Year's resolution?"

"I am going to learn to play the jazz flute." she said.  "Then I am going to play it at nursing homes.  I am sure it will make the residents saucy."

saucy.  oh how I love that word.  It's just so... saucy.  :D

"That's Christian," said Barbie. "I am going to volunteer in a shelter for homeless kittens and bunnies.  They are so cute.  How about you, Bob the Builder?"

"I am going to help out around the house," he said, "Every night, I will put the cookies and quilts in the dishwasher without being asked."

This is just silly.  Cookies and quilts don't go in the dishwasher.  Cookies go in the cookie jar and quilts with square patterns go on the bed in my room, quilts with circular patterns go on the couch in the living room, and quilts that are yellow get donated to Goodwill.  Oh well, I guess this is fiction, so I'll just have to go with it.

"I want to improve my grades," said George W. Bush.  "I will study math, science, and Jesus Christ every night."

Yay Jesus!!!

They all turned to me.

"What is your New Year's Resolution, F? 

As a side note, I just can't give out my name online.  There might be internet predators or internet salesmen trying to sell me The Magic Bullet.  For the last time, I don't believe in sorcery or violence, so please leave me alone.  Now back to the story.

"I'm not making one," I said.  "I'm perfectly charismatic already!"

THE END

Isn't writing just a hoot?  Well I would keep on typing away about my fun little life, but I just found another story to create about an Apple Surprise, (joy!,) so I am off to make more art.

Until next time,

F!!!!