Sunday, September 10, 2006

Mailbag

Dear Mr. Green Fish,
My name is Dr. Edmond Dewlapp (pictured) and I am writing to complain about the distressing trend toward cheap laughs and toilet humour in your blog. A lengthy descriptive list of dubious medical conditions is not the sort of thing one wants to stumble upon during an instructive tour around the web. As an octogenarian with a pre-WWII colostomy bag, I can not tell you how often I am presented with the opportunities for the sort of "organic" laughs that you and your audience seem to find so jocular. There is no more humour to be found in a bad case of Plowman's Thorax than there is in an extended bout of Cobbler's Trotts. I could easily go into a lengthy dissertation about the perils of Swollen Shanks, Digery Plops, Extended Percussive Clam Diggers Blight, or Beard Failure, but I fail to see the value in not only exposing but also finding joy in the private acute suffering of the poor fuckers felled by these indispositions. I know what these enfeeblements can do to the body and I am intimately aware of the smells and fluids they produce with alarming regularity. A good dose of Cataclysmic Ingrown Toupee combined with the lingering after affects of Cheese Mongers Scourge will produce a terrifying bouquet and leave one in need of the services of a good carpet cleaning firm. The noxious fumes and constant streams of purulent confection that make their spirited exodus from my own body on an hourly basis are enough to keep me occupied without your constant reminders about the frailty of the human form. Now Mr. Fish, I don't want you to think that this missive is merely the sputtering indignation of a mad shut-in, or the disconnected prattle of an afflicted roustabout. This blog of yours is not entirely the bog standard, pseudo literate, sophomoric lavatory musings of a lonely, confused, directionless man-boy. It is in fact slightly amusing on rare occasions. I am sure that the circles in which you move, the thugs, hoors, and halfwits who tolerate your mental diarrhea, are a fine breeding ground for your diseased mind, but it is time to rise above. You have a minimally acceptable intellect and the power of the internet at your disposal Mr. Fish: Let's see some naked ladies!!!

Thank you and keep up the good work

Dr. Edmond Dewlap, Director of Ballistic Fertility at The University of Western Luxembourg (Defrocked)

6 comments:

Kat said...

"I could easily go into a lengthy dissertation about the perils of Swollen Shanks, Digery Plops, Extended Percussive Clam Diggers Blight, or Beard Failure,..."

This reminds me of some of the lists from George's Marvellous Medicine by Roald Dahl. Hilarious little kids book.

You write very well. I think I'll make you a muse.

Green Fish said...

Thank you very much. The idea of the list thing is pretty much robbed from George Carlin. As a kid I would lay beneath the covers listening to the "Seven Words You Can't Say On TV", and "Things You Never See". I find childish vulgarity very funny, and it's one of the reasons I like Harry Potter so much.

jamwall said...

i apparently workout just fine in a breeding ground for anyone's diseased mind. i like to talk about country crooners who make presidential statues out of their own poop.

also, the pre-WWII colostomy bag has become quite the collector's item!

Kat said...

ah, Mr. Carlin. Very good. Haven't given him a listen in a while. Thanks for the reminder ;o)

The Writer said...

rotfl @ ballistic fertility.

What a mental image.

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