It’s Friday, seize it like a judge seizes a dog’s sack at the Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show.

Majorana Fermion was a dilettante. She had studied Viva le Jive in Cuba, Navajo at Oxford, Cajun in New Orleans and cat at the USC-Irvine School for Zoology. She had travel to the fertile crescent in search of the mythic line of Abyssinian felines. There she met the great Meow Meow of Negba, a legendary street cat, known for making annoying noises after midnight and begging for kosher meat down by the hot spring. She tried in vain get an audience, but he mostly lay in the sun and flicked his tail at her. In hindsight, she thought maybe a piece of string would have worked or maybe a laser pointer.

 

She had dabbled in the Teach Amerika program, the only problem was that it was the low budget version of Teach America funded by the Young Communists of North Amerika. Majorana ended up in Cuba via Montreal. That is where she learned Viva le Jive, a variant of Jive with Latin flavor. It is a complex colloquial tongue that had traveled its way from Detroit around the world to settle in El Guineo in the Sancti Spiritus region of Cuba following the erratic travels of Equinox, the half German half Indian eclectic trumpet player with six fingers total (two on the right and four on the left). Equinox was known for his jazz blues sitar-trumpet fusion and his considerable sweet tooth. He got his name from the black and white cookie known from the Seinfeld episode: “The Dinner Party”.

 

I wouldn’t say that she experienced Cajun more that Cajun experienced her. It would be known afterwards as Mardi Gras Apocalypse in July, confusing to both locals and travelers alike. Some say absinthe induces hallucinations others say it’s a crock, but absinthe mixed with LSD that’s another beast altogether known as the Green Tiger. Majorana is now known as the Lady of the Green Tiger as she put down four cocktails of the fore mentioned ingredients walked outside stripped naked and then killed and devoured a homeless man, beard and all.

 

Our final tale is about her endeavors at Oxford and discovering the Wind Talkers of Speedwell Street. Sure they weren’t real Navajos, just some English pub drinkers who had taken a few Rosetta Stone courses and started a club. Ms. Fermion didn’t take kindly to fakes, as she herself was the real deal. The real rich broad who traipsed around the world engaging in reckless behavior encourage by heavily drinking high proof spirits such as whiskey, white lightning, grain alcohol and fear. And of course she did contribute to several children’s charities. She walked into the secret pub of the falsies and withdrew her collapsible baton and then crudely and violently beat the Navajo right out of those Brits. She then traveled and found some real Navajos.

 

You know the saying that goes like this: “I’d rather have a bottle in front of me, than an enema.”