The Purple Girple

Up in Oregon, I'm told, there resides a wee girple. There resides a wee girple who is obfeemishly purple. She floxxed into Wordox all smileys one day & stated to all, "I love word games! Let's play!" She plays with us all, the big & the small. She plays with the ones who whine, pass & stall. This cutie will greet you with warm kind saluties and,when paired with you, she will utter "Wahooty!" She's a brave little girple who is never afraid to take on the most frightening galoots in the glade. She plays with humor, laughter & might.....her wahooty's ring out, late into the night. Those Synergy bigheads don't scare her away; she stares them right down....she stays & she plays.

She plays well, she does, but she does other nice stuff. She is a genuine Wordox ambassador of luff. She got us a new member, another fresh cutie. Our wahooty patootie recruited a Judy! Lukkyjudy is here because Purp drew her in & she has already begun to win win win Win. We thank the sweet girple for landing a membular & hope that she stays around long after Septembular.

"What is a girple exactly?" you say. I really don't know, we must ask her some day. I know they are faster than cheetahs & sprongoes; faster than jibjabs, small squoots, bennydongoes. She plays Insomnia Trivia with lightning-fast speed, keeping all us dumb floombats bewildered, indeed. She leaves us in her dust, but we look at her & smile. (if we anger her, she just might make us play some 2-Tile)

Hip bump Miss Purple, if you happen to meet. She's my gollyblog Hollyblog PLAYER OF THE WEEK.

Faces Come Out of the Rain...when you're strange

I finally got out of the house & I did not like what I saw. New York is not attractive during seasonal transitions, winter-to-spring being the ugliest. Everything that has been buried under snow is now lying around getting rained on. Yecch. Things are coming up from the subways that are meant to stay underground.

Today I danced with smelly dinosaurs. I have not taken dance class with these old bags for a few months, so I was resigned to the fact that they would taunt me to tears. Nothing is more vicious than a room full of over-the-hill dancers. One would think that OTH models would be worse, but I don't think so. If you put them all in a locked room, I think only the dancers would emerge alive. Models can be bitchy, but dancers can be just as bitchy....& they can kick. The dancers did not taunt me, they were disturbingly accommodating. It really put me off balance. I eventually shouted "Stop it!" Then I went on a tirade about their perfume. I don't know why, but they were all drenched in the stuff & the combination of their fumes had created a toxic cloud that was making me breathless & dizzy. That was my excuse for collapsing 14 minutes into the warmup exercises & it was a good one; I had never pulled that one before.

The topic of the day at our after-dance cheeseburger & beer party was the World Trade Center tragedy & the conspiracy theory currently galloping around that links our own beloved gub'ment to the attacks. I don't watch CNN anymore because I don't care about Britney Spears & the late ANUS. (Anna Nicole uh Smith), therefore, I wasn't in the loop about this particular theory. I just listened & drank everyone's beer. Someone at the next table chimed in with a tidbit of info that made my dipso-dinos chatter & cluck. Someone else at his table seconded that information. The waitress remarked "I didn't know that, wow," and you could almost see the grapevine growing & spreading, its conspiratorial tendrils snaking out & touching all things near. This wildfire notion could have them throwing a rope over the rafters & stringing poor dumb George up before the daffodils bloom.

I staggered back to my bat cave & decided to stay in for awhile. There's a strange vibe out there & I don't want to get any on me.

{A very interesting show just started on VH1, where people submit their 3-minute movies & viewers vote on the internet for the best ones. Acceptable TV. Check out some of this week's contenders. I voted for "Who Farted?" & "The Teensies".}

Random Thinks

Alrighty then, it is time for me to venture out of my house. I was closed up with my friend Glenn for a week, so I could definitely use some fresh air. My grandmother would say, "Go get the stink blown offa ya." What a disgusting phrase. I spared my children that, even when they really did stink. A friend called & asked why I have been hibernating. I told her I was mourning the death of Betty Hutton. She saw right through that; she knew I thought Betty was already dead. We all did.

While in quarantine with "Frodoe Godot, found at supermarkets everywhere", (Glenn claims that is his actual, given name,) I was definitely the crazy one. I felt that there was no sense in trying to maintain normalcy, so I went with the wacky flow. It was exhausting & it has rendered me stupid(er). Sunday I sat in my little computer chair slack-jawed while my poor partner struggled to overcome my bonehead errors in the tourney. I sent him more than a few pm "sorry"'s & he always zapped back a "np", but I know there was a mumbled "dimwit" after that np. I've been making a lot of newbie mistakes. Tonight, for the thousandth mother-grabbing time, I tried to play "ot." I played "elf" & was shocked when that wascally wabbit slapped an S on top of it & cleared & won. That hadn't occurred to me...self. I have been having one DOH! moment after another. I'm hoping fresh air & reentry into civilization will recharge my neurons. I should take someone with me because, as stupid as I've been lately, I'll probably step in front of a bus.

TEEVEE TAWK:

I. Does anyone else think the girl on American Idol put her own pictures out on the internet because she knew she couldn't win? If she gets a good contract out of it, they'll all be doing it. Gawd, I'm glad Rupert's gone.

It is actually possible that Howard Stern's fans & other interested parties may determine the Idol winner. They're attempting to keep the 17 yr. old goof ball in there as a prank. I don't like Howard anymore, but I like this prank. It will drive the producers insane.

II. Olivia Newton John has announced that her daughter is anorexic & she's determined to do anything in her power to save her. It seems that Karen Carpenter was ONJ's best friend &, as we all know, she lost her to the disorder. Did anyone stop to consider that maybe Olivia is a carrier? At the very least, she must be one lousy dinner companion.

III. This one's for Nanc: The new season of Dancing with the Stars commenced last night & my early favorite is Joey Fatone, even though it is obvious that he's had some dance training. His partner is the bitchy Russian who slapped Mario Lopez around for 6 weeks. Why does she get all the gay guys? She already called Joey "Fat One", instead of Fatone. I think she'll have him in tears by the 3rd week. I want the beauty queen out right away. She'll have that vapid Miss USA smile frozen on her face for every dance. Viewers just cannot let her tango like that.

(Sunny & 43 degrees tomorrow. It will be a nice day to rejoin the world.}

Rogue Cowboy

Hold onto your knickers & commence to gigglin', ladies, because my HollyBlog Player of the Week is none other than the rootin' tootin'est cowboy in Wordox.....the Don Juan of Dallas......Roguish. I could prattle on about what a good player he is & how he also steadily improves as time goes by, but I would much rather discuss the Roguish One's behavior between games. The man is a superb flirtation device. He calls us "doll" & "hot stuff" & "sizzle" & we love it. Hell, we need it. Let's face it, goils, the Wordox tables are not a hotbed of sex & romance. To me, Rogue is a knight in off-color armor who livens up every tourney by delivering up double entendres & giving an obscenish twist to the normal mundane lobby chatter. I was not surprised, recently, when he instantly mastered the Dirty Dr. Seuss game. "...Would you eat green eggs & ham? I would not eat them, Sam I Am. Would you eat them on a glass? I would eat them off your ass." Yes, he's a devil. I swear he even made Kate giggle once or twice.

Ok, here's the obligatory mention of his prowess as a Wordox player & his ability to host fun tourneys. Good player. Good TD.

Now let's get back to what we really love about the Rogue....he is relentlessly & universally flirtatious. When I am paired with him, he always requests my avatar with the horn-rimmed glasses because he likes the "smouldering librarian look." He is irrepressible & we love him for it & maybe we envy his wife, just a little. Men of Wordox, take a lesson from the Roguester. Would it kill you to call us "doll" once in a while?

Definitely give old Ron a hip bump when you see him, then be prepared....he will undoubtedly bump back.

(!) (!)

I was planning at least 2 weeks in Columbus, where I would be annoying & enjoying some family. That plan fell apart when I was notified that my favorite paranoid schizophrenic was about to surface in NY. Some of you may have been reading this site so long you remember my discussions of my buddy Glenn, who is basically homeless, but visits a circuit of homes routinely. He arrived Monday. I love when my visits are during these cold winter times. I can know with absolute certainty that, for a few nights, he is warm & safe.

I know he is safe, but I'm not certain I'm entirely safe. My sanity has been on tenderhooks lately, what with the Hoyle Migration; the realization that we're still not going to have a female candidate for president; & the recent discovery that my boyfriend is a little crazier than I'd imagined. Glenn had me dancing & singing so much that I didn't notice he kept refilling my vodka glass until he almost had me talked into changing my name to Nonny Dawn (!) (!). Those are not breasts. Anyone who took Anthropology as an undergrad Humanities elective should know what sound that punctuation represents. Bet you a dollar Dorcas knows the word for that sound & at least 3 ways to steal it. I remember practicing it a lot when I watched the movie The Gods Must Be Crazy.

I am well aware that schizophrenia, while highly heritable, is not contagious. And yet, I feel as though I'm slipping over to his side of the rainbow this visit. I am the one who is screaming & running into the closet when the Pizza Man rings the buzzer. I've been the one spouting theories about Christina Ricci being an alien, & prancing around in a ratty ballgown that only Courtney Love would wear. Glenn's been rather stable. I think he senses that only one of us can be crazy at a time & it's my turn. For the next 10 years, he can go back to being the crazy one.

thank you for listening. (!)(!)

{incidentally, if you missed the cyber catfight of the year, you must read the comment section of my partner's Blog under the "Oliver's Post" entry. Why is it that, in the middle of a verbal battle, someone always brings up balls?}

Post-Migratory Reflections

We are just now exhaling & relaxing, back in our respective rooms. Hoyle has completed the "migration" that would take "1, possibly 2 days", which turned into six days. I think we all weathered the storm quite nicely, with a great deal of dignity & aplomb. It's true, Shirley Dunc had a rocky withdrawal the first 2 days, where she sent out heart-wrenching YM's saying "I'm borrrrred." By day 3 she had pulled herself together & was sending much cheerier YM's.

Big Ted tbear suggested that we use the down time to go outside & get some sun on our pasty pusses. I just chalked that up to a Hoyle-deprived psychosis that was forcing him to have weird thoughts. Go out into the sun? That's just crazy talk.

Many of you panicked & went over to WordSteal & now you probably feel guilty & maybe slightly dirty. It's okay. You are not a traitorous miscreant. Many of our players sought temporary refuge at that friendly wayside website where there were tile racks to behold & a No S Rule. You weren't gettin' any, so you told yourself it was okay to get it somewhere else. You coughed up a new blob of rationalization every time you started pushing tiles around at that site. "Hoyle wants me to be here, otherwise why would it push me away?" "Hoyle doesn't want me, it never wanted me. They need me here." Please do not be riddled with guilt. As I said, many players also succumbed. Not me, of course. I just sobbed quietly into my pillow for the duration.

The Mighty Pepperrin suffered defeat last night, at the hands of a creature that was half frog, half wurm. My corvine partner was barely hanging in there, due to a case of the flu, & that dastardly frogwurm took the opportunity to get us into a fatal choke hold. There was pond goo everywhere. We will meet again in healthier times, you cold-blooded villains. Oh yes.....we'll meet again.