Saturday, July 28, 2007

Mabel Leads A Secret Life

I am a bit concerned about my non-blogging bestest friend, Mabel. She is up to something, methinks. I don't want to read about her in the local paper. Or in the USA Today, either. But I'm getting ahead of myself. I don't actually know if she's been caught yet, or even committed a crime. But things are looking a bit suspicious.

Let's start at the beginning. Mabel sent me an email last night. I read it a few minutes ago. I hit the 'reply' button, because I'm of the lazy persuasion, and typed up some info that I feel is vital for her to read. Something along the lines of: you'd better call the office, Mabel, because that paper you didn't get in the mail was supposed to be signed and one copy turned in by a specific date, perhaps August 1.

I hit the 'send' button, and went back to looking through my stable of 53 emails to see what I might be able to delete. And there was that blasted 'returned mail' thingy. Apparently, Mabel has a fatal error. Who knew? There was a bunch of numbers (Mabel likes numbers) that seemed to be a code. And a message that read: connection refused due to abuse.

What's going on, Mabel? Or perhaps I should speak your lingo now, you hardened criminal, and re-phrase that as "What's goin' down?" Is there something you are not telling me? Are you Santa Claus, and you've been exceeding your bandwidth or something? Are you sending out those Kenyan email scams? Are YOU the one responsible for those emails with the compelling subject line, that when opened read like a spy message? You know the ones I'm talking about:

The carpenter leaves the door open.
Steve finds the box empty.
The yodeler sleeps until midnight.
Sally baked a pineapple upside down cake.
The lazy fox threw his typewriter at the brown dog.

I don't know what Mabel is up to. But you can bet it has something to do with using propositions to end her sentences with. I tried to send her another email by typing her last known email address into the proper space. "No can do," replied the mail subsytem thingy. Only not in so few words. Just those 'connection refused due to abuse' words. No good can come of this. If Mabel is thrown in the slammer, I can't even bake her an Oreo Cake with a file in it. Oh, I could bake it and deliver it. But the guards would have to try a bit, because it is OH SO TASTY, and one bite would lead to another, and before you know it, there is only the file left. Then I would be placed on the 'No Giving Things To Mabel Because Last Time You Sent Her A File' list, and she would have to tunnel out with just a plastic spoon and then build a raft out of raincoats and float across the bay and never be seen again.

Mabel. Stop the insanity. Stop the abuse. How am I supposed to send you cryptic messages? Straighten up and fly right. I do not like being refused. OR abused. By cracky!

You got some explainin' to do.

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