why words

no idea, what to say, said sponge, all words seem to be lost. i had them all laid out, nicely arranged last night, in categories. replies, remarks, questions, answers, comments, small talk, chatter, jokes. all that, you name it. and now, all gone. don’t know what to say.
what about memos, said breadroll, are they gone as well?
haven’t even thought about them, said sponge. that’s another story.

why people wave at trains

a burly man of the agile looking type was standing near the door as the train took off, waving at a lady of his acquaintance, who was waving back wildly, hurling abuse at the train people. i reckon she has missed the train. there won’t be another one for some time, he thought. i shouldn’t have waved. he decided to forget the episode.
sponge and breadroll had missed this train. there was no doubt. they had ran into a woman hasting the other way. she was waving wildly. somebody she know, said breadroll. very well, said sponge. we’ll wait.

why not talk big during innovation and on-target demand

the spirit comes not down from above, or below, up then, said sponge, that spirit which is to purify our project, which with its iron besom is to purify the great sty of the department ultimately. pupupurify our essence. our precious fanatically.
and to do that is the task of our movement, said breadroll, the movement must not rust away at this corner, it must not spend itself in superfluous battles of words, but the banner with the white circle and the black dot will be hoisted over the whole of the project on the day which shall mark the liberation of us all.
nicely put, said sponge. i must rest now.

why shall we bother with a title

on second thought, said brekst and grew silent again.
he wanted to tell about his depression which was not accompanied by insomnia and feeding frenzy but he did not. a slim and slender man in his best years, well rested and depressed. it goes without saying that he could not continue the episode for the moment.

why it is a punchline

if that’s ok, herr brekst said, the thing with the lines then what isn’t but i wouldn’t know whether or not it was ok; all i know is …
well shall never know — at least not too soon — as herr brekst starts hitting himself. slaps on wrist first, then ears, nose, the works.
to join in, said blokk, i would have to be motivated.

we shall ask why and stuff

q: that was an unnecessary display of of violence in the morning fnnn zwooook if i may say so hotokk mooo uill.
i enjoyed the publicity, said block of wood, even though i personally detest violence. —— brutality yes, violence no. it is that simple if we all work together.
a: i advice you not to ask for music again, song jingle anything.
q: the aversion towardssss music, is that a new trait fnnnn? the presenter has a little white drop of spittle on his upper lips when he speaks.

why elderly men wearing baseball caps sometimes have strong body odour

if there is one thing i love to do than it’ll be to reek like a rookie. there is nothing like it. the reasoning about reeking and rank and retirement makes the odour turn sour, the very substance that on the rookie’s mildly bulging body loiters and lingers as the bad news -for some- that it is, that substance or subs as insiders or ins as they call themselves usually call it that later will turn out to be the undercoat of your presence, that smell of butter gone sour and vapourising beer.
sponge was in a position to achieve this state and in that state he triumphantly glazed over his collegues. what a waste of words as none and not one were listening. he will have to repeat this shit.

and why

the sun was shining, shone on mr. willow’s forehead. the large forehead bathed in light. mr. willow was out to get greenery, grocery, shoppings and bits. he successfully ticked off the first 3 items on the list when he realised that money was short and queues were long.
that is a good example, he said, why nothing is working in this country. there we go again. no idea why that happens all the time with the superb job the government is doing.


and? everybody in good form, said sponge.
shape more so, said breadroll.
are we supposed to, said block of wood.
why? i am just asking, said sponge.
meanwhile the sun was illuminating the room.
and why is that happening now, said breadroll.

© the Book of Sponge and Others.