The Diary of an Obsessed Muppet Fan - Entry 4, March 7, 2010
Dear Diary,
Dairy, diary, give me your answer, do. For I am half crazy all for my love of you. It won't be a stylish marriage. I can't actually afford a carriage, but you'd look sweet up on a seat of a bicycle made for two. Ahh, who am I fooling. You could never balance on a bicycle long enough to make it down the aisle.
But seriously, diary, it’s official…
I’ve given up my love for the Muppets. Yes, I’ve just grown tired of their ridiculous antics, their passé outfits, and their distinct lack of work with world-renowned comedian Andy Dick. Don’t try to talk me out of it, I can’t be--
---
Right, look here. I’m sorry, but I was under the impression that secretly published Diary pages were supposed to cause world-wide ripples of scandal (or at least, ripples that reach the edge of the local swimming baths.) Let’s try a page out of mine instead, shall we?
---
Dear Diary,
You will not believe what I just heard.
I was on the bus today, and these two girls were totally talking about the Muppets. (Okay, by girls, I mean middle-aged women with toddlers in prams, but that’s just a detail.) So this one girl turns to the other and says, “Remember that Danish chef?” And the other girl laughs and does her best Chef impression, “Oh yes. Put the chicken in the pot.”I’m ashamed to say I laughed out-loud and got a very severe and scolding look from the old man reading the paper beside me. I then had to resist the urge not to correct the women with MY best impression of the Chef...which would almost certainly have included the letter: “ø” and a “bork”.
But that is not the greatest blasphemy that I heard this week. Nay, there was much worse to come, as I found myself discussing the virtues of the Muppet Show with one of the staff of a local hotel – a nice man, who claims to be fount of all knowledge when it comes to local affairs and general trivia. However, while he claimed to be most like Rowlf the Dog, I claimed to be closest in character to Gonzo the Great.
Now he, being all knowledgeable, swiftly informed me that should I choose to make such a claim I must also play Saxophone.
During the silence after that revelation I could have heard a pin drop (and by a pin, I mean I accidently dropped a glass.) It was some time before I managed to ask the question, “When did Gonzo EVER play the saxophone?”
To which he responded, somewhat condescendingly, “Er...at the end of every episode while the credits rolled?”
I just didn’t have the heart to tell him.
I just did not have the heart.
Alright, diary dear, stay tuned for further adventures in Muppetdom!
-T.B.C. (The British Correspondent)
The Muppet Mindset by Ryan Dosier
