Noun: Lihm' ereh sist"


A poetic cyst whose artwork is exclusively contained within the limerick form. " 'tis a rare combination 'tis true" said Willhelm Shakespeare of the Ideopathic Institute of Deformational Artisans (IDA), "but in the idiopathic realm, which of course translates roughly to 'no known reason for being-place', the rhyming cyst is as commonplace as the singing lepromatous lesion and the Testiclogdancer. If one is to understand the importance of the Limericyst in the modern world of Tissue abnormalitic prose, one would only need to study the works of Sanford Glialcyst whose proximity to his host's brain gave him a unique ability to sponge concepts from the organ. An example of his work follows.



It should be said that much of Glialcyst's work contains food imagery, which has led doctors to believe that cysts are indeed quite envious of their host's ability to eat. But as all idiopathy is less sophomoric than idiotic-ic, there is a fringe of angry scientists who dispute these assumptions, along with those concepts that assume global warming is real.

*Often confused with a distant cousin, the Lyrecysts, who are not artistic at all but only cysts renowned for their passion for counting Italian paper money.

Tags: ' of the day's

So I had to go to the bathroom and do some random pleasure reading, and as I'd already paged through all our current catalogs (C'mon Christmas!) I was stuck with a booklet given me by a shrink I've since ditched, called Ten Days to Better Self Esteem. I leafed through the first few pages until I ran across a lovely test (I knew there had to be one, to identify just how inefficiently I think) Before we work on the booboo, we have to find out just how icky it is.

I had to add my score in my head as I went along, the bathroom is usually pencil free so I couldn't do the checkmark thing the author doc asked for, but in the end I think I had my score correctly. Turning the page to see what it all meant I discovered I needed immediate hospitalization for my broken self worth depression... so I quickly went back through the questions and fudged a few answers so my score showed me to be less manic and I wouldn't have to drive anywhere. (the truck's almost out of gas so then I'd have to get gas and drive to the hospital and call Linda to take a cab and pick up my car and MAN, it just seemed like so much work)

Once I'd adjusted myself into the "moderately depressed" range, I felt well enough to continue, and before long I came across a drawing of a stick figure with a frown on his little face and a cartoon balloon over his head filled with phrases like nobody likes me, everybody hates me, I think I'll eat some worms. (I assume it was a male stick figure, though I might just be auto-identifying with a peer rather than risk being intimidated by a girl, I hate to show weakness in front of a girl, sticklike or no) That was followed by another sketch of a stick figure guy solving his problems proactively. In the text balloon were words like "I like myself" and "I rock" and "today is the first really cool day of the rest of my really cool life!"

I was properly curious about the sketches, they seemed out of place in an adult book, so I read the material that surrounded them. It told me to draw my own unhappy stick figure with a frown and cartoon balloon, and to write in the balloon why my stick figure is so sad. And then, draw a new stick figure that had taken charge of the situation and made life better for himself. In physically creating these drawings I might first identify my negative behavior, and then draw myself free of it, permanently changing my life for the better! So I took the challenge, as I always do as I'm told, after changing the rules a bit. I skipped the first drawing. Everyone knows why I'm sad. It's because other people suck! So I just moved on to the second phase... The Solution!

( All my problems are solved! )

Pootie has a new thing. When I get out of the shower, nearly every time so long as he's awake and moving already, he wanders into the the bathroom, sidles up to me, and licks my leg. Generally my right one as I face the east when I'm drying and the door is to the south. He doesn't jump on me, he doesn't peer into my eyes, he doesn't bark or mewl or waggle his tail wildly; he just calmly licks my leg four or five times while looking in that general direction. Then... he just turns and wanders off to whence he came, whencever that was.

I ignored it the first few times it happened, at least beyond saying aloud "awwww isn't that cute, thanks for the kisses little Pootie" which I am loath to admit, but only to complete the story do so here hoping no one will taunt me. But now, months later, after a hundred or so lickings, I can't help but wonder what the hell this is all about! So I've made a few guesses, and perhaps you can share your opinions with me as to which one makes the most sense. Of course if you're the dog whisperer and happen to be passing by, feel free to tell me EXACTLY what pootie's thinking and EXACTLY what I should or should not do about it, because we all know you're a god and speak directly to the animals. By the way, tell Smokey the Bear hi for me:)

So here's my list of probabilities.

1. Pootie really wants to worship me, and has at one time in his life heard that "the washing of a human's feet" is a perfect sign of obedience and prostration, or whatever that word would be. His only issue is that he HATES bending over unless there's poop to sniff, and as my feet are delicate and non fragrant, he feels it far too much work to actually stoop for the cause, much as a Catholic might sort of half kneel half sit but still protest that they're taking the worship thing seriously. So he washes my feet, only at calf height.

2. Pootie has decided that drinking from the toilet is passe, but had seen Dr Oz on Oprah say that a being's water intake volume is very important to a being's health and so had to find an alternate mode of liquid refreshment transport. Having just that week accidentally bumped into my leg while I was drying shower water from my head, and then licking his nose upon which my waste liquid had been deposited, he found the combination of water, shampoo drippings and molted human skin cells to be positively invigorating. Therefore as Pootie is a creature of good taste and stubbornness, he has decided that only my shower residue will do, and to not die of dehydration he MUST drink from my only moderately hairy leg.

3. As I take a quite hot and long shower, sometimes to the point of lobsterizing myself, when I step from the enclosure I am usually expressing steam from my pores. This immediately rouses Pootie from his half nap on his chosen floor, and he, zombie like, must walk to wherever the lovely aroma emanates in order to test the done-ness of the meat being cooked. Once he discovers that in his trance like state he has actually tested his own master, feeling Oedipally sick to his stomach, he then wanders off to try and keep from dog barfing.

4. Having seen me grow old and suffer the ravages of senior hood, he knows that one day, perhaps any time now, I will simply drop to the floor and never rise again. So he feels he must constantly remind himself how tasty I really am, because when I'm dead, put on the feed bag baby cuz all bets are off!