Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude

Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude
Where Great Intelligence Goes To Be Insulted

Thursday, 7 March 2019

About This Lent Thing



In the Before Times I actually DID torture my daughter - but not the way she says I did. When she was small I came across her in front of the TV watching one of the WORST kids shows EVER.





It was called Maid Marion's Merry Men and the premise of the story was that Robin and the Merry Men were all bumbling idiots and Marion actually ran the band. The kid was watching the WORST episode of the WORST childrens program EVER too! I guess in Kipperland they call it Shrove Wednesday to kick of Lent - and all the characters were making pancakes out of milk, eggs, flour, mud, straw and whatever else fell into the batter.



Pancake Day was serious business in Nottingham I guess.

I am retarded. I started dancing around to the toon and as it played I confronted my daughter: "What day is it Spud?" I demanded.

"Dad... please...."

I stopped capering about like a gibbon and turned on her. "What day is it Spud..?" I said dangerously, as I loosened my sidearm in its holster.... "SAY IT." I took a mockingly threatening tone.

She bowed her head in despair. "It's.... it's...."

"SAY IT!!!" I shouted. Being a retard I was having too much fun to notice that my kid did not appreciate my antics at all.

"It's …. it's Pancake Day, Dad..." I gave her an attagirl and continued The Pancake Day Dance. She gave me a sad smile the way children do when they indulge their retarded parents, or on occasions when the kids grow up way too fast for them. The kid wasn't a squirt anymore, and was turning into a young woman. I'd blundered across her as she channel surfed and just figured she was a little kid watching a little kids show. Foolish dances and songs were no longer part of her world. It was the story of our lives, always a few frequencies and a few light years apart.

We don't do Lent, I guess. I always thought of it as some traditional custom with no real value but like all things, when you stop and take a good hard look at it... it does have its merits. It's a great opportunity for self improvement. For those of you who are in to it - good luck to you! Out of respect for you and your wonderful tradition I will not engage in The Pancake Day Dance.

I wonder though if I could do it as my own thing. Then I could do the Pancake Day Dance! And the world would be a better place for it too! 

2 comments:

  1. Just so.

    Two women, neighbors, had daughters of the same age. The little darlings are in kindergarten together. The kids are desirous of a combined birthday party, and the ladies hear of a clown act for hire that specializes in kids birthday parties. The clowns are auditioned at another child's party, and the audience loves the act. Hey, toilet humor, pie fights, three stooges gags.

    The mothers are all for it until they see the price tag. Oops! So being creative, they decide to do their own clown act. One pro who has played a few children's parties even gives them a few tips, gratis. So they get all painted up, they have their own costumes and props, and - they lay the biggest egg since Johnny Ginger tried to revive burlesque without strippers in Toledo.

    The lesson? Strangers dressed up as clowns are clowns. They do funny things, they're irreverent and make funny forbidden noises at the dinner table. That's funny, because they're clowns. Parents who dress up as clowns aren't clowns; they're weird. They aren't funny, their jokes fall flat, and the main reason for this is because they aren't professionals.

    Professional clowns work hard at it. They watch and see what works, what doesn't, and why. They make mistakes, they play hard to impossible audiences, and they've graduated clown school. Yes, there is such a thing. No, not everyone graduates. I, for instance, was given a fifty cent tour (after a fashion) and instantly knew I wasn't a clown or a comic. I was an Emcee and a straight man.

    The two mothers in question finished their act with a little number that was, according to one clown, guaranteed to produce laughs even from the toughest of audiences. It didn't.

    So the mothers retired to being mothers, and at the next party they hired the clowns, who turned out to be a big hit with the kids.

    Go figure, right?

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