Thursday, May 24, 2007

Position Open!

I dug up an old college friend the other day. I reanimated her, and she ran away with my lab assistant, Ephgor (almost as good as Ygor, but he worked for lower wages.)

Great! Now I have to find a new assistant! Do you now how hard it is to find someone who will bring you moderately-fresh limbs and organs AND take dictation? Do you think these folks just post their resumes to, and a mad scientist—er, misunderstood genius--phones them up for an interview? In point of fact, they do not! With a name like “,” you would certainly think so, though.

A little piece of trivia, here: Dr Frankenstein’s assistant in 1931’s “Frankenstein” was named “Fritz.” “Ygor” came along in “Bride of Frank” and subsequent films.

In a fit of nostalgia (that welcomely replaced my fit of sneezing,) I sought out the website of a young woman I was in college with. H.M. Snow is a talented novelist and—despite her admission to being an acquaintance of mine—a fine human being. She recalls that I used to amuse myself by sitting in the college cafeteria and asking people if they knew the muffin man. The tortured expressions of people with an annoying ditty like that stuck in their heads is greatly rewarding!

Well, it’s certainly better to be remembered for something like that, than for, say... releasing a gunny sack full of weasels in the president’s office. I deny doing any such thing, of course. The four Holstein calves in the gymnasium? Also not me. And when someone switched our regular Greek prof with Folgers Crystals? I was nowhere to be seen.

-Go now, and visit the website of H.M. Snow! Allen’s Brain commands you!
-Go now, and purchase novels written by H.M. Snow! Allen’s Brain commands you!
-Go now, and send me your resumes for the position of lab assistant (hunched back a plus!) Allen’s Brain commands you!
-Go now, and bring me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free! The Statue of Liberty command you! (What would I do with huddled masses of freedom-yearning poor, anyway? Perhaps, lift my lamp beside the golden door—showing them the way out? Now, if you happen to have any huddled masses yearning to breathe Freon… send ‘em my way!)
***** lives on Drury Lane.


The Drive-by Blogger said...

Yeah, "Fritz"...the writers must have really strained their imaginations to come up with that name.

By the way, I got an uncle who's not techincally a hunchback, but he stoops over quite a bit...will he do?

Diesel said...

I don't have any fresh limbs, but I've got quite a stockpile of canned ones.

I tried to visit the Snow, but it won't let me comment. That made me sad. I don't like being sad.

Allen said...

Drive-by, How is his telephone voice? Is there a sufficient lisping quality?

Yeah, you have to register in order to comment. It was against my principles, but I bit the bullet and did it. Now I need a good orthodontist and a new bullet.

Allen said...

Oh! Also, canned limbs just won't do. Fresh or nearly fresh. Perhaps flash-frozen. As for canned limbs, you might as well just put them in a kid-knee pie.

Janet said...

I knew I liked HM Snow when at the top of her blog was a pic of the evil genius--"The Brain"--now where's Pinky??? I'll try to find her books to try out!