Well the Super Bowl smackdown finally came on the schedule and Zinnia the Ninnia aka the Beady-Eyed Sourpuss was turned out in the milker pasture with Wronny. She went out there with her two kids, A.J. and Edie, who are inexplicably sweet and adorable although I guess it is not that inexplicable since Chaos is their father.
Okay, first of all, confidence: what is it? Is it stealing lunches from little kids? Is it t-boning the slow-witted? Is it sneaking up behind an intelligent, kindly, extremely correct (except for the chandelier udder) Nigerian and biting its ear while it is trying to take a nap? That's right, Zinnia, I am talking to you. The answer to all these questions, especially the last one, is no.
Confidence comes from deep within the rumen of the true herdqueen. Confidence is its own reward. Confidence is like a little bird that flies NORTH for the winter. WHY NOT TRY SOMETHING NEW? Confidence babbles happily like an Alpine brook; it knows its way down the mountain. Confidence is the peace that passes understanding, like a bucket of warm Cherry trance-milk. Ommmm. Confidence lies sleeping in the sun, because there is no need to get up.
Getting up is exactly what Wronny did not do when Zinnia swaggered into the milker pasture radiating what she thought was confidence. Oh Wronny saw her, but really, some things really do not merit one's personal attention. Wronny flicked an eye over at two of her underling lieutenants, Elbie and Schwinnie, and they took off like a shot - yes, My Queen! - in Zinnia's direction.
Zinnia quivered out one last swagger and then realized too late that her confidence was really arrogance. Her brain shut down in a flood of panic. She wheeled and ran. And ran.
And ran, with the portly Hounds of Hell warm - Hot burns too many calories - on her heels.
Wronny yawned and went back to sleep. Ommm.
Losers please send licorice (black.)
c/o Millie
Herron Hill Dairy
Home Wa 98349.
Thanks.
