I have two confessions to make. 1) I miscounted the chapters in Dirk Destroyer's Less Destructive Brother. There are two (which is more than one) chapters remaining (cunningly labeled Chapter 26 and 27.) This means that I will not (as I despicably (or some other negative adverb) promised,) conclude the story today.
2) I'm giving you the Appendix today instead of Chapter 26 (or 27 for that matter.) Why? I guess I've just been hanging around Elmer's more destructive brother too much lately.
For those of you who showed the good sense not to read this disaster, the planet Two has been ruled by the thirty-seven really good ideas for more than eight thousand years - or longer than Elmer has been alive. Unfortunately, they had lost all but three by the time Elmer was born, and in spite of Elmer and Dirk's protests, they lost two of those three and changed the meaning of the third. The following is the original thirty-seven really good ideas.
(Thankfully, not the one attached to my colon.)
The Thirty-Seven Really Good Ideas
Waving a fistful of twenties in the air is more likely to get thee a hackneyed carriage in the great city than yelling, “Hey nonny nonny, Fair Thee well, Good Person.” (also more likely to get thee mugged.)
When a person sayeth to thee, “Frankly,” “To be honest,” “I gotta level with thee,” “In all sincerity,” or “As mine congressman told me,” Thou shalt not believe a word of what that person sayeth next.
Peas are for eating – not sticking up thy nose.
Thine dinning date will not be impressed with any nose-related amazing feat thou doest at the tavern table.
Be happy when thy boss sayeth, “We want to promote thee.” Do not be happy when thy boss sayeth, “We want to give thee more responsibility.”
If thou doth not already know how to use chopsticks, only utilize them when thou art dining alone, or with people thou wisheth to offend.
When in a business meeting, thou shalt not interject with, “I read in Ye Olde Mad Magazine…”
Thou shalt not start a land war in Phasia. It be-eth big, populous and its hardworking people art good at math. They are also polite – but not so polite as to refrain from applying their feet forcibly to thine posterior.
When thine woman sayeth, “I want thine honest opinion,” thou must never offer it. Thou must say only what thee believes thine woman wisheth to hear.
When an acquaintance asketh thee, “For whom art thou going to vote in the next election?” thou shouldest feign a fit of nausea, and run to the outhouse.
Thou shalt not consign a problem to the government to fix lest a century later, thine great-grandchildren pay taxes for a great host of government workers to fix that same problem - which shalt be worse for their efforts.
When thou art apprehended by the magistrate, thou shalt not make the noise of pigs grunting and squealing, lest thou receiveth from said magistrate good cause for thine grunting and squealing.
Once thou passeth the age of five, thou may no longer display thy ABC food.
Thou shalt not paint a depiction of dogs playing poker and call it fine art.
Thou shalt not feel uncomfortable when thee encounters a woman who loves other women. Thou shalt offer her a brew and asketh her about her favorite jousting team.
Thou shalt not stride out into a bull’s field with a red cape just to see what happeneth.
When thou art building a structure, thou shalt not sing with nails in thy mouth.
Thou shalt not eat anything that smells fouler than thine own self.
Thou shalt not attempt a youthful fashion statement after the age of thirty.
Thou shalt not prevent persons from smoking cigars in their own home.
Thou shalt bathe at least once a year – more-often-so if thou hopeth to mate with a woman.
If thou tosseth a coin in the air to decide how to vote, thou needest stay home on election day. If thou tosseth a coin to decide any matter of importance, thou shalt not procreate.
If thou pisseth on the same spot thine dog just pissed. The next place the cur pisseth is likely to be in thy bed. Thou shalt not piss off thine dog.
If thou hath dealt it, thou shalt not complain about the smell. Thou may however, blame the dog.
If thou hast dreams that thou flyest – place thine bed on the ground floor.
If thou wisheth for a uniting of all countries – imagine living under the world’s worst ruler with no place to runneth.
If thine sir name is Bates – do not seek to be anyone’s master.
If thou art content with thy level of taxation – tell not thine rulers.
If thou liketh not window blinds – it be-eth curtains for you.
If thine chicken crosseth the road – ask not why.
If thou tasteth a foul concoction – do not bid thy friend, “try this.”
No matter how interesting its writing may be, thou shalt not bring thine woman paper thou findest in the outhouse.
Planteth thine corn early.
This idea space to let – reasonable rates.
Thou shalt not comment on how these thirty-seven good ideas are written primarily for men. Thou shalt instead consider how women customarily respond to advice.
Thou shalt not bug(ger) the sheep. (translation in dispute.)
Thou shalt not make a religion out of a list of ideas, ‘Really Good,’ or otherwise.
When thou hast lacks wisdom, thou shalt not attempt to make a list of Really Good Ideas that’s longer than five or six entries lest thou look like an ass.
So I'd ask you to tune in next week for the 26th (or penultimate - great word, eh?) chapter of Dirk Destroyer - but would anyone believe me now if I did?
For no particular reason, here's a spooky, largely forgotten, song by Jim Stafford.