Friday, January 7, 2011
In Caelo Non Cervisiam Quamobrem Hic Potus
I mention this well-known Encyclical— more famous for its compulsive repetition (17 times in 6 paragraphs) of the phrase "Vere amo quis. Voco" [I really LOVE you, man. I MEAN that] — because I received in the mail the other day Teh Popener I won from Xenia.
I'd like to be a mensch and just say "Thanks, Xenia!" but the truth is, I am of two minds about Teh Popener, and not just because I have my hand on my n*ts@ck as I type this and am therefore thinking in twos (and, occasionally, threes, when I get a really good handful).
No. I am of two minds about Teh Popener because I happen to know its Long and Glorious and FULL Blogospheric History. Or at least I know more of its history than most. And that history goes something like this:
A long time ago, Xenia was based, not in England, where she currently resides (most of the time), but instead, in Rome — HOME of Teh Popener-manufacturing plant, which is why X. has exclusive access to them. At least, that's where she was when I discovered her. And make no mistake: I discovered her! Because before I came along, she was nothing but a Lowly Chorus Girl. Thanks to my management, she is now an archaæologist, which not only PAYS less, but has even less of a future to it than Chorus Girl, because let's face it, "Chorus Girl" is really just a polite code-word for "Whoo-wer" (it's what these whoo-wers tell their families they do for a living, but they're not fooling anyone) and while the world can take or leave archaæologists, the world can NEVER have enough whoo-wers2.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. Or maybe behind. Possibly both ahead of and behind myself at the same time3.
But the point is this. Xenia was living in a Roman Nerditorium at the time and she would occasionally post quizes on her blog and she started offerring the prize of a Free Popener to those who answered the most questions correctly. Much to her surprise (I assume), Teh Popener became highly sought-after. Every time she had a contest, people would leave comments like, "I want a fucking Popener!1!" Or "Gimme a fucking Popener!1!" Or "Popener me, Bitch!1!" etc. Some of these rudely acquisitive comments were even made by people other than me, I believe.
This happened every time Xenia announced one of her give-aways. I think at one point she tried to give away something other than a Popener for which sin she was was Hanged in Effigy, which is a suburb of Rome ("Effigia" in Italian, I believe), but she survived because she has a very tough and resilient neck and throat area because ... well, she did used to be a "chorus girl" after all ... that's all I'll say about that4.
Anyroad, the point is, for me, my whole strategy vis-à-vis Teh Popener was approach and avoid, just like Herbert Stencil. Because the whole POINT of Teh Popener was being able to complain about NOT HAVING ONE, which was especially fun to do when someone else won one and you could get all, "S/HE's UNWORTHY of MY Popener!1!" etc.
But now ... I have one. Sure, it opens beers for me (see graphic above, featuring first Popener-opened Glaven-brew), which is nice. But I am now Herbert Stencil after having solved the question of V! I have no purpose in life now.
So thanks a FUCKING LOT, Xenia!1! I might as well just become a whoo-wer5!
1 Incidentally, Hic Est should not, in this case, be translated "It is this"; the correct translation is "It is a hiccup" because Pope Barnius Googlius I was using "hic" in approximately the same way that Andy Capp uses it when he stumbles drunkenly home from the pub — in its English sense, that is, not Latin — because Pope BGI was pretty ripped on beer at the time, which was not unusual for him because he was evidently pretty drunk on beer when he chose his pope name because he took it not from the cartoon character Barney Google, but rather, in part, from the cartoon character Barney Gumble and in part from Google Translate, which helped him translate his Encyclicals, Bulls & whatnot — mostly composed in English on the backs of cocktail napkins — into Latin.
2 Whoo-wering is recession-proof, ladies. So break out the fishnet stockings and get out there on the corners and HELP THE ECONOMY OUT ALREADY!1!
3 Woo-hoo! One-man menage-a-trois! WHO'S THE WHOO-WER NOW, HUH, XENIA?!1?
4 It makes you virtually gallows-proof: This is yet another side benefit of becoming a whoo-wer, Ladies.
5 Joke's on YOU, Xenia, because I already am!1! Hahahahahaha!1! O, yeah: Ian and Teh 'Bride say "Thanks for the Xmas card". But me? I still say: "FUCK YOU!1!"