Will the mirackles never end? I finely got the electrick.
Not that I need it so bad now, with the daylite gettin’ longer. The power company is kinda like the bank. If you don’t need ’em, they’ll be there fer you, but when yer in a pinch they don’t recall yer name.
So its offishul, spring has hit the Youcon. That big bonfire in Robert Servisse Park works evry time.
Gotta say, Darrol, I ain’t reel happy about the daylite saver time startin’ so darn early. In fact, I don’t reckon it saves even a tiny bit of lite.
I did’nt bother to change my clocks this year, but I done somethink that’ll make life a lot better. Turned my callander back five months.
Now, yer at a big fanssy desk, thinkin’ its the first part of April. Wellsir, by my count its the start of Novembber.
Think on that a moment. That means it’ll be lite all thru Janury and Febwary, on into March. Imajin what that’ll do fer the eckonomy.
Youcon folks won’t be flyin’ off to Disney Land or Mexxico, but spendin’ there money rite here. And they won’t book off sick so much, feelin’ sad from Seesonal Afflicktive Disfunkshun.
The Runnin’ of the Dogs will get faster ‘coz they can see there way, and folks enjoyin’ Rondy-voo a mite too much won’t fall down in the dark so offen.
This is a reel winner, Darrol, so I hope yer little paper will get rite on it.
Last time I rote, I was remarkin’ on weerd things afoot in the Youcon skies. Well it don’t stop there. Somethink strange is happenin’ down on the ground that makes me wonder if Youconners have got some wires tangled.
I’ll give you a fer instants.
One day last week I was runnin’ a bit short waitin’ fer the old-timers check to come.
My naybor Wilferd kindly loaned me a few bucks and gave a drive to town fer some things I needed. On the way back, he picked up his two kids from skool.
There reel names is Marilyn and Danny, but he calls ’em Moon Unit and the Dweeb. He says its from his fav’rite singer, but I think its ‘coz there both reel outter-space like.
They was in back, and the Dweeb had wires comin’ from his ears. I ast if he was hard of hearin’, but Wilferd said he was lissenin’ to musick on some sorta tiny record player.
But it was Moon Unit that got me. She sat there the hole time talkin’ on a cellulite fone in a langwidge from another plannet. It went like this:
“Did you see my tweet on twitter? I texted you, but it didn’t go thru, so eye-em me when you get home. You wanna face book or em-ess-en? Or maybe we shud skipe.”
Scarey thing is, Wilferd seemed to take it all like normal.
Thank hevvin the govamint hired a few new head shrinkers. We need ’em.
Yer pal,
