Move Over, Aesop. Here Comes Mr. Ferndoodle.

13 Jul

by Roger White

            Oh, compadres, I am more than overjoyed to hand over the quill and ink (okay, keyboard and mouse) for this edition to my dear friend and poet, Archie Ferndoodle. To those few who may not be familiar with Mr. Ferndoodle and his work, Master Archie is the current poet laureate of the Greater Southwestern Scribes Society, which meets every third Thursday in the back of Sue’s Salon in Cement, Texas. Sue asked me to mention that for the next two weekends, she is offering clip-on hair extensions at 20 percent off with a coupon from the Cement Sentinel. And you get a free scrunchie with every shampoo.

            Anyway, Mr. Ferndoodle (or Fernie, as his closest fellows call him) holds an associate’s degree in postmodern comparative limerick studies from the University of Southern Panama’s Correspondence College and has been featured five times in the American Anthology of Poetry. Just a few of his classics include “Staff Sergeant, My Staff Sergeant!,” “Why Is the Man Always from Nantucket?,” and “The Squirrels Stopped Talking to Me Today.”

            I am humbly honored to introduce this latest work of Master Archie’s, in which the bard has given us contemporary interpretive musings on some of the more well-known sayings of yesterday. Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to give you Mr. Archie Ferndoodle:

 

            “A Stitch, a Horse, and a Can of Pearl”

            by Archie Ferndoodle

 

            Necessity is the mother of invention.

            Failure is the stepfather of rationalization.

            Lust is the naughty uncle of impropriety.

            Vague shame is the daughter of inebriation.

          

 

 

             

 

            A stitch in time saves nine.

            “Reply All” in haste equals job erased.

            A text while driving may mean not surviving.

            A tweet while senseless brings consequences.

           

            A picture is worth a thousand words.

            A raise is worth a chronic brown nose.

            A flat is worth an attempt at second base.

            A needle is worth a dozen batting titles.

           

 

           

 

 

            You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink.

            You can tell a kid it’s bedtime, but you can’t find her iPod.

            You can delete your browsing history, but you can’t fool I.T.

            You can explain to your wife about football, but you can’t make her get it.

           

            Birds of a feather flock together.

            An honest politician is just an apparition.

            Dogs of a kind sniff behind.

            Computer experts tend to be Egberts.

 

            Slow and steady wins the race.

            Dull and sycophantic wins the corner office.

            Clenbuterol and EPO win the Tour de France.

            Lowbrow and negative wins the election.

 

            A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse!

            The remote, the remote, my Bud for the remote!

            Unleaded, unleaded, my left arm for unleaded!

            A Paxil, a Paxil, my handgun for a Paxil!

 

            A jug of wine, a loaf of bread, and thou.

            A can of Pearl, a DVD, and Blanche.

            A ton of sun, a dearth of rain, and stroke.

            Some flashing lights, a scent of herb, and jail.

     

           

 

            Good fences make good neighbors.

            Thin cube walls make nosy coworkers.

            Odd neighbors make weird noises.

            Good brownies make many neighbors.

 

            A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.

            A kick in the crotch is worth two hundred youtube hits.

            A full TP roll at hand is worth a bazillion in the cabinet.

            Two kids in college is worth, … gimme a minute, I’m still tabulating.

 

 

 

 

Archie Ferndoodle is a close and personal friend of Roger White. Roger White is a freelance writer living in Austin, Texas, with his lovely wife, two precocious daughters, a very fat dachshund, and a self-absorbed cat. For further adventures, visit oldspouse.wordpress.com.

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2 Responses to “Move Over, Aesop. Here Comes Mr. Ferndoodle.”

  1. yogurt July 14, 2011 at 12:42 am #

    “You can tell a kid it’s bedtime, but you can’t find her iPod.”

    Clearly Master Ferndoodle has teenagers or he’s been spying on me.

    • oldspouse July 14, 2011 at 8:31 am #

      Oh, no. Fernie has a “past” (i.e., rap sheet) of, um, looking in on folks. We thought he’d licked this thing. I’ll talk to him.

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