the vss conference is over, and i didn’t make a fool out of myself. which is good.
BUT i met a girl who had just finished her thesis on victorian children’s literature at university of houston. she’s getting married in june, and her and her husband are going to london for their honeymoon. and they’re staying in EDWARD LEAR’S HOUSE, which has been converted into a small hotel. i must go stay in edward lear’s house. the entire time i’m there, i will speak in nonsense. everything will be scroobious, and i will eat with a runcible spoon.
running with carrots 
The vernacular shift from “runcible spoon” to “Spork” is the surest sign of the decline and fall of western civilization.
*giggles* That’s absolutely fabulous. And no, you didn’t make the least degree of fool out of yourself–you were as composed as anyone up there.
I, on the other hand, am presently paranoid that everyone from U of H heard me dissing the food and had serious talks with Rice faculty about what an asshole I am.
I read “The Quangle Wangle Hat,” though, and I think I disagree with your interpretation. I feel at the beginning, he HAS bread and jam (as a crumpetty tree seems a good place to find it, if any tree is), but is sad and lonely. Then when all the animals come to live in his hat, he is joyful because they throw gay parties and he is not alone anymore (though still trapped inside his very large hat).