Monday, April 2, 2012

Wearing Nothing But My Brevities

B is for brevity.

Brevity is the soul of wit

Hope you had a good laugh.

I was going to end the post there, but I thought that each entry in this challenge should be at least longer than your average tweet.

To get in the mood for brevity, I've decided to compose this entry wearing nothing but my briefs. Brrrr.

It was Polonius from Shakespeare's Hamlet who made the point about brevity being at the core of levity. Polonius, of course, was a blithering, blathering babbler who could only display a bit of brevity if you were to bash his brains with a briefcase. I'm sure many readers were hoping that in Act I Scene III during Polonius' rambling speech Laertes would say to him, "Stuffeth a sock in it, thou old windbag".

However, no Polonius shall I be. I intend to make this short. You won't see me flap my gums with idle chatter. No siree. None of this blah blah blah blah blah over and over and over and over again.

I know when to quit. I know when my time is up. I know when I've overstayed my welcome.

Concise, succinct, to-the-point! That's my motto. No sense rambling on when the point has already been made.

Man, it's cold in here.

Perhaps you've heard of the very brief poem entitled, Lines on the Antiquity of Microbes. Let me see if I can remember the whole thing:

Had 'em.

Yes, that's it. But, since I'm from Minikin, I believe I can compose an even punier poem. Let's call it God's Words To Adam's Better Half On The Day Of Banishment From Eden:


There you have it.

Does anyone else feel a draft?

Hey, this post has gone on far too long. Time to say bye-bye, adios, arrivederci, au revoir, auf wiedersehen, etc., and so on, and so forth....

But before I go, if you'll indulge me (I'll make it brief), here are a couple of jokes I think you might enjoy:

The first one is for all you lovers of high seas adventure:

A sailor hired on as the first mate to a merchant ship back in the days of the pirates. After a few days on the open seas the crew spied a pirate ship on the horizon. The captain shouted to the first mate, "Hurry, go to my cabin and bring me my red shirt!" The first mate did as he was told and the captain donned the red shirt. A furious battled ensued, but the pirates were driven back and the merchant ship cruised on victorious. 
Two days later they again spotted a pirate ship cruising toward them and the captain shouted, "Quick! Go to my cabin and bring me my red shirt!" The first mate got him the red shirt and a terrible battle was underway with the pirates. The merchant ship won the battle and sailed on into the night. 
Two days went by and they saw two pirate ships on the horizon. The captain shouted to the first mate, "Bring me my red shirt!" - and the first mate quickly obeyed. Again, the merchant ship valiantly fought off the two pirate vessels and sailed away victorious. 
Finally the first mate could no longer mask his curiosity and he asked the captain, "What is there about that shirt that makes you win your battles? Does it bring you simple luck? Is it a mystical shirt?" The captain laughed and said, "Oh, nothing as unusual as that - I simply wear my red shirt so that if I am cut in the heat of battle my enemies and my own sailors won't see the blood. Thus, my men are not disheartened, and they fight courageously with me." 
A week later they spied TEN pirate ships cruising toward them. The captain turned to the first mate and shouted, "Bring me my brown pants!"

This next joke is for those who have children (but it's not a joke for children):

A couple decided the only way to pull off a Sunday afternoon “quickie” with their 8-year old son in the apartment was to send him out on the balcony with a Popsicle and tell him to report on all the neighborhood  activities. He began his commentary as his parents put their plan into operation: “There’s a car being towed from the parking lot,” he shouted.
"An ambulance just drove by!” he continued.
“Looks like the Andersons have company.”  
“Matt’s riding a new bike!”
“Looks like the Sanders are moving!”
“Jason is on his skate board!”
After a few moments he announced, “The Coopers are screwing!!”
Startled, his mother and dad shot up in bed. Dad cautiously called out, “How do you know they’re screwing?”
“Jimmy Cooper is standing on his balcony with a Popsicle.”

That should just about wrap things up. But before I go I should mention that... nah, forget it. That's enough.

So, to paraphrase MacBeth, or Lady MacBeth, or MacDuff, or MacDonald, or MacHine, or MacSomethingorother:

Out, damn'd blog post! Out, I say!


Out, out, brief blog post!
This entry is but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets its words upon the page
And then is read no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot (well, I wouldn't go that far),
full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing (well, at the very least it signifies an effort in the A to Z challenge).