I like ducks. There are too many bobble-head dolls in the world; I figure the maximum number should be around twenty-three. There is no governor anywhere. Fnord. Napalm jokes are not as amusing as some people think they are. Never eat anything bigger than your head. Remain calm. Kinky Friedman is a very funny fella. Good music can be painful. Watch your head.

Friday, May 13, 2005

Welcome to HypnoBlog

I have decided to embark upon a career in hypnobloggery. A mid-life change in plans, perhaps, or just a way to entertain myself on a boring Friday. Who is to say, really?

Anyway, here's how it works. I will hypnoblog you through the power of this blog. You will be under my control from about the fifth paragraph down, until you perform whatever actions I have required of you and return control of your life to you. Which I promise to do, I am not an evil hypnobloggist. I'll let you know before I begin, so you can stop reading if you want to avoid being hypnoblogged.

OK, I lied. You are already under my complete control. Let's try a test. Say the word "poltroon." Say it again. Did you? I hope so. Do you know what a 'poltroon' is? It is a coward. That's an old and obsolete word that needs to be brought back into common parlance. So here is one of your assignments. Say 'poltroon' in a sentence three times today. That is my evil will and you must therefore comply. OK, then.

I always wondered about hypnosis - the movies and TV always portray it the same way. Some guy with a goatee, looking vaguely like Sigmund Freud, swings a hypnotic disk from a chain in a slow arc through the air, while suggesting that the subject (almost always a beautiful young woman) is getting 'sleepy.' Why sleepy?



Why not angry? Here's how I kind of picture it...

"You are getting angry. Angry! With every swing of the pendulum your ire increases. You are becoming short-tempered. You're sportin' a 'tude. You be cranky-boy. Somebody needs a nap. You're good and pissed off. You can barely restrain your fury! You have gone completely non-linear!"



"Yes, I am angry. Very angry. Must kill, must destroy!"



"Alright then. I order you to quit smoking."



"What?"



"You heard me. Quit smoking! The power of the hypnotic disk compels you!"



"I'll smoke over your corpse, you quack! ARGH!" (Violence ensues. Lots of it.)



NOTE TO SELF: OK, so not such a good idea. Perhaps 'sleep' is a better hypnotic command. Well, this is how we learn.


Now, where were we? Oh yes, you're still hypnoblogged. I nearly forgot. Sorry.

Um, ok, what shall I order you to do? I mean, besides saying 'poltroon'.

Be nice to people. OK, that's weak. Let me think.

I got it. Ah-hem. Remain calm. There, that's better.

Just so we're clear, let's review. You are hereby ordered by the power of the hypnoblog to use the word 'poltroon' in a sentence three times today. And you must remain calm. This is key. Other than that, um, well, just have a good day. Are we clear on that? Oh, and report back on the details of your use of the word 'poltroon' and how you remained calm. We can all learn from your experiences, so please share.

I now release you from the hypnoblog. Go about your business and remember...remember...remember...

Tastes Like Chicken,

Wiggy

2 Comments:

Blogger BrideOfPorkins said...

IT WORKS! I have never smoked, and I unleashed my fury on my garden hose today when it wouldn't follow me around all my hedges. I think it didn't want to get lost. My hose is a such a poltroon. I too may be a poltroon, because I didn't go up to my roof to water the plant growing in my rain gutters. I think I'm okay with it, though.

Fri May 13, 09:35:00 PM EDT

 
Blogger Unknown said...

Glad to see you falling for my evil plan. I isq that a lot. I have no rain gutters, I have a bungalow. The rain just falls right off the end of the roof. The first time I saw that, I wondered why I had ever had gutters before. I mean, they're not for anything, are they? Except to get stuffed up and grow stuff in.

Tomorrow, Mrs. Wiggy and I are driving to Four Oaks, NC to partake of the "Acorn Festival." They will crown a Miss Acorn, which is just terrifying enough of a thought that I now wish to go. I am hoping to become truculent as the day wears on. Truculent. I love words. My condolences to your poltroonish hose.

Fri May 13, 10:08:00 PM EDT

 

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