Little Things We Can Stop Worrying About

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The Tale of Sorrow – Part 14

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(New and unproved)

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How would you pluck the moon from the sky?  Answers on a postcard, please.  (Please – I need to write the next bit and I’m desperate for ideas!!!)  Only kidding!!!  I got stacks of this tomfoolery all lined up and ready to go!!!  Hee hee hee … hee… herh…

(How do you sellotape a ballpoint pen onto a dog’s paw?

I don’t recommend you do this – your dog will probably end up being a better artist or writer than you and every time the two of you are together you’ll suffer terrible feelings of inadequacy and before you know it you’re eating Winalot and he’s in the bed with your wife.

Just me then?)

Walter White Presents

Hello. Walter White here – you know, from Breaking Bad.  As a respected chemistry teacher and purveyor of high-class crystal meth, I have been asked to say a few words on behalf of the Jifster, who is, though you may not be aware, quite a shy and retiring cartoonist.

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Let me get my glasses on so I can read this.  It seems the comic book style periodical you may or may not have been enjoying over the last few months – namely ‘The Tale of Sorrow’ – (is that the thing about the spoilt princess who wants the moon?  Yes; yes it is.) was lifted from a manuscript recovered from an archaeological dig near The Dead Sea.  Wow!  The themes seem so relevant in current times.  Isn’t that amazing?  I think so, I think that’s astonishing.  Anyway, it seems that the manuscript was incomplete and that just didn’t lie right with the Jifster.  How could she make public these first 20 pages of such a vital and satisfying tale without providing a suitable conclusion?  It would enrage her reader(s) and the Jifster couldn’t live with that.  What if they became so frustrated that they went out to their job, say at a beauty salon, for example, and drew someone’s eyebrows on all wrong?  That poor bad-eyebrow jobbed client would be walking around all day giving everyone the impression they were being mocked, or that the person with the wrong eyebrows was furious for no reason.  Human eyebrows are essential for conveying emotions and as such, this type of simple error could lead to something as extreme as the outbreak of thermonuclear war.

Anyway, anyway – I’m getting off point here!  The point is that the Jifster, being the consummate professional that she is, has taken upon herself the task of attempting to complete this ancient story so that the outbreak of war can be avoided.  These are dangerous times, people.  You only have to look at someone with the wrong eyebrows these days and they start accusing you of being an illegal immigrant and telling you to get the hell back to whatever rock it is your great-grandparents happened to have been born on three million years ago!  As if we aren’t even all descended from the same two people the Bible talks about – you know, the ones who landed in that spaceship from Mars when Mars got flooded by the jealous giants.

Anyway, anyway – the Jifster just wants you to know she cares about you and your eyebrows and hopes you keep on reading her Tale of Sparrow.  And she really wants you to know she appreciates all your likes and comments and she wishes she could let the original author of this magnificent epic know that her thoughtless doodles from olden times are now, centuries later, finding a new and unexpected audience of people with a weird sense of humour who enjoy terrible cartoonery that was probably done by someone drunk long ago who never intended it to be seen by anyone else.

By the way, this elegant portrait of me was also found in an archaeological dig in the area around the Jifster’s desk and has been carbon-dated to several years ago, probably about the time I opened the car wash.  I just love it and have commissioned a full colour version on canvas to hang on the wall of my prison cell.  What an artist!

So, without further ado, look out later today for the newly Jiffed-up episode of The Toil of Speros, where that great character, Speros, will be having loads of crazy adventures!  You won’t want to miss it!  Anyway, that’s enough from me.  I’m off to swat a fly in my underwear.  My name’s Walter White – Peace Out!!!