Saturday, March 7, 2009

Question of the Day

What's for dinner?
(As you can see, I'll be enjoying live peacock to the mind-benumbing tunes of my minstrels. And my friends will all be standing around watching me eat. I'm the lady in the Cat in the Hat hat on the left. Oh, and one of my maids-in-waiting (see top left) is carrying on an illicit affair with the court astrologer. Either that or she's plotting my death so she can move into the marriage bed and wield power from behind the scenes; my husband always was a sucker for a woman with a star-shaped halo. )

10 comments:

Deborah said...

Looks delicious! But er... won't those feathers get stuck between your teeth?

Anyway, I bet you've got a lovely electric hairdo hidden under that hat yourself, for your husband still looks at you with that sickeningly sweet and cheesy smile of a teenager.

Ana said...

You definitely have him confused with someone else!
;0

Brandon G. said...

Maid-in-waiting? I think that's the statue of liberty!

Ana said...

You may be right (although more likely her great great great great great grandmother). Or an angel standing too near a vortex. Halo distortion. I've heard it can be a big problem.

Good to hear from you!!!

EmmaK said...

just make sure you have someone taste your meal first in case it has been poisoned by this husband-hungry wench!

Beverly Hamilton Wenham said...

Well, I am definitely that chippy in the back of the line with the crazy hair. (What is that Baby's Breath?) And don't worry, cause I am wearing my poison ring. That girl is going down! Or maybe your husband, your call. Just know I've got your back.

Gorilla Bananas said...

Who is the foppish fellow in tights? I hope his peculiar attire doesn't spoil your appetite.

Eva said...

I only have one thing to say: Bon appetit! Oh, and save me some of that peacock, will you, I'm sure it will taste delish with a bit of ketchup ;op

Ana said...

EmmaK: Yes, I must get myself a taster. Surely there must be some heretic in one of my dungeons who would be up for the job.

Bev: I love the hair! No, that's not baby's breath, silly. It's fresia because we all smell like rotten potatoes.

Mr. Gorilla Bananas: He's my interior decorator. And I can't see his perfectly flexed thigh from my vantage point. He's merely showing off his new shoes. He's such a plate.

Eva: I saved you some peacock but it doesn't keep well. Shall I have it salted down and send it to you???

Beverly Hamilton Wenham said...

Your so cool!