TO: Feathers clan high wingwaxer DF “Doug” Pillsbury, Kansas City
FROM: Feathers clan token female, coffee ritual governor Mary Campbell, Tucson
RE: Official certified Feathers gratitude (This is no ordinary gratitude)
Dearest DF— Not so long ago — only days, in fact — having received your selcouth birthday gift and having noted that it was most wonderfully scriniary, as you no doubt intended — had I tried then to assemble a collection of words to say thanks I might have begun with an eblandish clause such as, “I hardly know what to say.” I blush at the thought….
No more blushing! Henceforth, lively and appropriate vocabulary will rarely be delitescent when I am called upon to write my gratitude — indeed, to write anything, not excluding (a) an essay on illywhackers of my acquaintance or (b) thoughts on my most recent physitheistic research.
No more ziraleet!
Try to imagine my eadness, DF, when the postperson delivered a package with a return address de vous. Unwrapping it, I discovered a luculent marvel of a book titled Totally Weird and Wonderful Words (2006, Oxford U. Press), charmingly and pactitiously edited by Erin McKean. Not just any Sardoodledom, Totally Weird and Wonderful Words will now and in the future facilitate my timely transmittal of thanks, permitting me to acknowledge your generosity more blively than in the past, free of ziraleet and that annoying awed whistness.
You see, I’ve been looking like a windlestraw and sounding like winx, probably on account of woofits, though that speculation is purely peirastic and not to be relied upon. What we DO know is that a bogglish wavenger followed me home in a state of constant oggannition. Not a lopeholt could I find, nor were my oligosyllables of any use.
Desperate, I tied the B.W. to a handy nearby ombrifuge and went for help. When I returned with the deputy sheriff, there wasn’t a bogglish W. in sight. The ombrifuge was now unencumbered. In the area were only a loon-slat, a lolling-lobby, and, incredibly, a kenspeckle gongoozler. I say “incredibly” because I didn’t recall ever seeing a canal in that vicinity. Now that I think about it, however, there used to be a small irrigation ditch, as evidenced by sizable sleck.
Autoschediastically, I sat down on the gongoozling bench and struck up a conversation with the gongoozler, whose name is Lindabell. I offered her a diazingiber and asked if she minded if I joined her in being huderon. She welcomed me most graciously, inviting me to gongoozle with her for as long as I cared to. She was, in fact, so concinnous that we instantly became friends and made crapulous plans for the next day. As always, DF, your gift to me arrived with an unexpected bonus!
Sending you warm and grateful thanks, DF — and, I am asked to append, thanks as well from my new friend.
P.S. Am adding postscript after my outing with Lindabell. It seems our ideas re crapulous vary widely. My crapulous plans can be easily accomplished with $1.50 and a coupon; a crapulous afternoon with Lindabell requires EMTs and a twelve-step program. Even so, L. is not scelestious and in any case I’ve found a couthie cremett who said he would help her.
P.P.S. The entry for spouch, p. 206, may be accurate in defining the word as “unwanted messages sent through a haptic system.” The so-called alternative definition will find an important niche, however, among English majors, not to mention overcrapulous winebibbers and small children:
spouch (n.). An incriminating and indelible stain on a sofa.
Out, damned spouch!
There’s still time…
to give Annagrammatica’s Little Book of Positive Affirmations to anyone you love, anywhere on earth!