Floor-duh welcomed to Mt. Palomine family of friends

Yippee

Certainly, my desk, as you can plainly eyeball, is a parched desert and I have little to do here as the underburdoned Director of Public Assuagement for the Mt. Palomine Institute of Mysteries except greet "Urthers" and write steaming hurrahs for this squalid place or that. Be assured, those piles of paper that merely mimic workload are simply confection wrappers and week-old editions of the Portville Trumpeter Doubloon that I'll be using later as mackerel wrap and construction material for sleek ships-of-the-line and winsome admiral caps. Oh yes indeed, my days are empty affairs, in fact I believe I'll spend the remainder of this afternoon (after completing six days of labor in as many minutes) performing the cakewalk and fandango atop my for-display-only work desk! Perhaps I will journey into town and attend a puppet show, having so much idle time at my disposal!

This command just reached my desk; apparently some individual from "da Urth" and specifically from the always-challenging "BeKnighted Stakes of Merka" (in the little dangly bit up at the front end called "Floor-duh") has posted a greeting hereabouts to the Professor and otherwise expressed approval of his most holy Boss's efforts. Professor Pille, being a very busy man, declined to direct effort toward a response. He brushed by my desk, drew a napkin with scribbling upon it from his vest pocket, flinged it upon the front page of the Sonderday edition of the Doubloon (obscuring, partly, a multi-color humorous cartoon involving a mega-sandwich eating numb-skull and his pert yet dipsy wife) and uttered these words: "For your attentions and by your leave, it would be a pleasantry and a wonder if you, rather than myself, were to hallucinate a beaming rejoinder to this unsolicited flattery" which in the turgid office parlance of "da Urth" amounts to take care of this for me. The Professor, his back bent and creaking with his mighty load, jogged off down the corridor (with revived enthusiasm) toward the lunchroom where roasted potatoes and narwhal steaks (and flagons of Pilsner) awaited him. To the erstwhile gentleman from "Floor-duh" I say, with employment pistol to noggin, hello and hurrah! We shall add a flagged stick pin to our map (limply hung with unenthused stickum over the stalls of the fifth floor washroom as something to eyeball while otherwise engaged) of "da Urth" denoting your place of residence, another of your "states" (a physics word that befuddles us no end) in a somnabulantly growing list. Our deepest thanks for your notice and your startling effulgence!

[EDITOR: Generally we here at the Mt. Palomine Institute of Mysteries just plain loathe blogs (as if you couldn't guess) but this one http://paradiso108.blogspot.com/ or This Side of Paradise emanating from Gainesville in "Floor-duh" actually caught the attention of several of the staff members and Professor Pille himself--no mean feat. Director Zliplitt hates everything which is why he was given the job he currently holds]