Shake(speare), rattle and roll

 

From the ancient mists of time

where dwelt the sages way,

the bard of all bards plied his rhymes

that took our breath away.

His words the brush on paper canvas

painted tales in august hues:

of Eden's sweet green innocence, alas

with blood-red guilt we came to lose.

But heaven intervened and sure

with message from above,

 that deep within us lies the cure,

in faith and hope and love.

.....

Rattus! Oh, Rattus! Humm, he left his desk.

Now what has he been up to? Hmmm. 

♪ ♫ From the ancient mists of time

where dwelt the sages way ♪ ♫

♪ ♫ the bard of all bards plied his rhymes

that took our breath away ♪ ♫....

-------- 

Text by Ruben Rivera©

Art by Anita Rivera©

Nearer My God To Thee

 

Rattus: Ugh! My knee is acting up again. I can hardly climb the steps to our cottage. My back's a misery too. On top of that, I think I need stronger spectacles. I'm getting old, dear friend.

Tea Rat: My old da, Teadore Rat, used to say, "You know you're getting old when you used to dream about being able to fly, and now you dream about being able to walk." You know what else he used to say?

Rattus: I can't wait.

Tea Rat: You know you're getting old when your bark is worse than your bite because you have no teeth.

Rattus: Very funny.

Tea Rat: I'm joking. You're not getting old. You're getting ripe.

Rattus: That's disgusting. 

Tea Rat: What I mean is, you're maturing...like a venerable old wine.

Rattus: Stop talking.

Tea Rat: I thought you were a religious fellow. Remember the hymn, "Redeemed, redeemed, His child and forever I am."

Rattus: Right now the only hymn that comes to mind is "Nearer My God to Thee." No doubt about it, my friend, I'm headed for the long goodnight, the big sleep, the light in the tunnel, the fertilizer factory, toe-tag town, I've got one foot in the grave, I bought the farm, I'm circling the drain, pushing up daisies, checking out...

Tea Rat: ...Alright, alright. I'll take out the garbage.

I Hate the Beach

Tea Rat: Oh boy! There's going to be a beach party! I better brush up on my 1960s surfer lingo. Twitchin, dude.

Rattus: Why are you twitching dear fellow? Are you ill?

Tea Rat: Twitchin! You know, as in great, superb, cool, boss, wicked. Now come on, let's book for the beach.

Rattus: Beaches are public. Why do we need a reservation?

Tea Rat: No, not book as in reservation. Book as in to depart post haste. It's gonna be far out.

Rattus: Oh dear, I trust not too far.

Tea Rat: No dude, that's bogus. I mean far out, as in cool, twitchin. Now come on, and can you bring that cherry umbrella of mine?

Rattus: "Cherry?"

Tea Rat: Yeah, you know, pristine, perfect.

Rattus: It is a nice umbrella, but it's mine.

Tea Rat: Woah, dude. Don't try to boggart my stuff.

Rattus: "Boggart your stuff? What in the world are you babbling about?

Tea Rat: I'm babbling? Dude, you don't even know what boggart means. What a burn. What a chop.

Rattus: I think I'm going to lie down.

Tea Rat: Don't get groady on me. Don't shine me on. Aren't we goin' to shag it to the beach?

Rattus: Going to the beach just sounds like too much work.

Tea Rat: But I was so stoked to dig up some scratch for some scarfs and split to shore. We were going to have a primo, righteous time.

Rattus: I hate the beach.

Oh Ye Of Little Faith!

(Continued from Nowhere. Click here.)

Tea Rat:

Goody, goody, goody. Penny's birthday's almost here.

Cakes and pies and puddings to celebrate good cheer.

Rattus:
You know I'm on a diet, and that I'm most sincere,
to drop an inch or two or three, here and here and here.

Tea Rat:
Oh don't be such a party poop. Don't give me that sneer.
Eat to your heart's content. This comes but once a year.

Rattus:
You cruel tempting rat. Have you no feeling dear?
To eat my heart's content is precisely what I fear.

Tea Rat:
Oh Ye of Little Faith! Oh faithless without peer.
I said I have a secret. Have you no ears to hear?

Rattus:
You'll never understand, you'll never shed a tear.
Just standing near such calories will go straight to my rear.

Tea Rat:
Stand back thou faithless wretch, for soon it shall be clear. 

I say thee calories out. Go on away from here! 

Happy Birthday, Penny!

-------  
Drawings by Anita Rivera© 2011.
Text by Ruben Rivera© 2011.  

Rattus's Word of the Week: Twitter

Twitter (noun):
1. a succession of chirping or other tremulous sounds, as that made by birds
2. similar tremulous sounds in human communication, as in chattering, giggling or other expletives
3. the typed micromessages sent and received on an electronic device (cell phone or computer) via the social networking service provider by the same name
4. a descriptive for the current culture (as in "Twitter Culture") of ceaseless, fragmented transmissions via one of countless communication methods
5. the final tremulous sounds or gasps upon the death of the remaining 3 seconds of uninterrupted time in the day

Rattus's Word of the Week: Respect

"Respect your neighbor,
then do as you please."

Rattus Scribus©

Pur Frivolité

"La Gastronomie de Paris"
Affectionately authored by Rattus Scribus
Performed with peerless pulse-pounding passionate pageantry by Tea Rat

---

Shall I compare thee to Marron glacé?
Thou art more gooey and affectionate.


Rough winds do shake the cafe's cheese-fill'd tray,
But naught can shake my love for thee to date.


Thou didst gift me my first crêpe brimmed with nutella,
And with enraptured tongue sang acappella.


Off cobbled streets I met Turkish delight,
Which in America one must chew for a fortnight.


Accras de Poisson, mayhap doth take the crown,
Cod fish fritters? I know how that mayest sound.


But if on barren island I was forever doom'd to be,
A heaven this: Anita, cod fish fritters, and me.

La gastronomie. Like nowhere else, la gastronomie
de Paris.

---------
"Tea Rat in Paris," By Anita Rivera
Marrons Glacés, by Artisian Chocolatier
Fromages, found on Tumbler
Nutella Crepe, by oli-and-mel.blogspot.com
Turkish Delight, by All of Our Fingers blog
Ruben -- Accras de Poisson in hand -- in nirvana, by Anita Rivera