nuthing lik a dat

in the spirit of my sister's influential bestseller, "nuthing lik a famule" ('grat book!' - the new york times), erachet and i composed a timely update on the classic text during a recent bus ride back from an engagement party, and contrary to all expectations, we struck gold. we feel it is our civic duty to disseminate the kind of genius we stumbled upon to you, the dating public at large. below are some of the highlights:

NUTHING LIK A DAT

by

FUJ

and

ERASHA

("grat buk!"- the apel)

In the morning, my shadchan sets me up.

My sister dozint lik to. Not vere.

I forget to apli all of my makup.

My mom gets mad.

......

AAAAA! War my purs is?

(You mean, 'Where is my purse?')

Undir yor bed! That iz war it iz!

.........

(What's that in the background?)

(That's the date cage.)

(You have a cage for dates?)

(Yeah! The dates like to be up there!)

.........

"Ar yu gona sta on yor dat? Do yu wont to eet choklit wen you get hom?"

"No, I think Im gon to sta on the dat."

"Okay Im leeving withawt yu! Phwew!"

........

"Ugh....whi do i cep geting bad dats..."

(Probably because your last name is Frankins. - We couldn't improve on this line.)

"Mabee yor dats ar good:

F for Jest Frends,

R for Restranin Order."

The End! Duh duh duh!

!
*Feel free to write your own pt-style dating lines in the comments! Whoever wins gets...er...the Flat Stanley her first-grade class is mailing to me!

** Be sure to revisit "Home for the Holidays", which now features Mr. Richards' portrait!

Survey of Literature Class, Post-Midterm

PROFESSOR, sitting atop desk, flipping through graded midterms, tonelessly:

Some people did better on some parts than others...this test was specifically designed to make sure you'd done the readings, of course...so you can imagine what grade I gave the student who said that Mary Rowlandson, who as you all know bought her way out of captivity, was actually rescued from the Indians by marauding bands of English colonials...

FUDGE, glancing at end of test booklet, impressed, to self:

A-.

home for the holidays

you know, many people attempted to talk me out of my decision to go home for purim this year, arguing the basic premise that:

a) everyone who is anyone is in new york
b) the purim fun is funner in new york
c) in wisconsin there is snow

but, even with respect to the healthy two feet we received almost in tangent with megillah reading, i am glad that i braved the milwaukee skies, if only to afford me the ability to keep up with the pt's endless stream of straight-to-paperback novels:

me (flipping through bundle of papers entitled 'end the long jirney began') : "here is richard."

the pt: yeah, that book is about richard and the dragons.

me: i see. hmm. but...why does it call him "mr. richard" on this page?

the pt: because he got married! hello?

me: uh...what's that on his cheeks?

the pt: pink.

me: is he blushing, the pt?

the pt: well, he did just get married. and that's pretty inbarrassing.

the phone weevil

phone: ring ring...ring ring...ring ring...

mom: oh, hi.

fudge: hi, mom. listen, i need to ask you this question about my tax form--

the pt: UM, HELLO? IS ANYBODY ON THIS PHONE?

fudge: hi the pt.

the pt: HELLO? HELLO?

mom: yes! we're on this phone! go hang up!

the pt: I'M KIND OF IN THE MIDDLE OF SOMETHING.

fudge: what? listen, the pt, i need to talk to mommy about something, okay? i'll talk to you later.

the pt: CAN I PUT YOU ON SPEAKERPHONE?

mom: the pt, just hang up.

the pt: OKAY I'M PUTTING YOU ON SPEAKERPHONE.

mom: the pt, i said no!

fudge: whatever. listen, mom, about this form you sent me --

the pt (from a great distance) : that's better.

fudge: listen, in the third column--

the pt: fudge, can you hear my marker scribbling on my paper? oh no...it's a new one and it's all dried up...!

mom (distracted): it's all dried up? i just bought those three days ago!

fudge: mom!

the pt: we had rice for supper. ew.

mom: well you didn't eat your chicken!

the pt: um, hello? that's probably because it was yellow?

fudge: whatever. listen, i' m trying to talk to mommy, okay?

the pt: my guy has little arms. doo doo doo doo...

mom: the pt, hang up.

fudge: okay, so this form--

the pt: i feel like putting on my pink socks.

mom: no, we're not putting on any more socks tonight.

the pt: whhhhhhhhhhhhhhy?

mom: because we have enough laundry to do as it is!

fudge: um -

the pt: well what about the purple ones?

mom: no more socks!

the pt: oh man!

fudge: hello?

the pt: scribble scribble scribble. do you hear my marker breathing?

mom: don't you have some homework to do or something?

fudge: mom, can i just ask you a quick question?

the pt: weeeeeeeeeel i was supposed to do my kriah but um...well, when we were putting things in our backpack, chaya came over to talk to me, and--

mom: the pt! this is like the third time this week you didn't do your kriah!

fudge: helllo?

the pt: well my marker has little arms!

mom: the pt, go check your backpack.

fudge: testing, 1, 2, 3. testing, 1, 2, 3.

the pt: doo doo doo...i just feel like eating a cookie....cookies are so good...

mom: no, we're not eating any more cookies tonight.

the pt: oh, but wwwwwwwwwwhhhhhhhhhhyyyyy?

::call waiting from 'Bubbe' ::

fudge: AUUGH!!!! I JUST WANT TO ASK ONE QUESTION!

(five second pause)

the pt: um, fudge? that was really werid.