I think you’d agree that one of your crowning achievements of 2015 was getting your driver’s license. I want to ask what your crowning achievement will be this year but I don’t want to ask it in a normal way because that is BO-RING! So, Moley, can you please relate a MOLE GOAL for 2016 but in the form of an Old English ritualized boast known as a “beot”?
Recall, if you would, the beot structure…
1. Pledge – The individual pledges to endeavor a specific challenge
2. Speculation of outcomes – The individual predicts two possible outcomes, success or failure, and elaborates the effects of either outcome.
3. Commissioning to a higher power – The individual commissions the outcome of the challenge to a higher power (e.g. God, fate)
Please consider adding olde timey words like “hath” and “sooth” and “mead”.
Well I’ll do my best, but I am Uriah Heap humble, and boasting or beoting ain’t my forte.
Here goes nuthin’:
I Mole, former people pleaser born in anxious times pledge to say no more than I say yes
Ne’er again will I use the feeblest of excuses to back out of what you call parties, but what I know in my heart to be strawberry socials.
I shall make you ashamed for even deigning to invite me
How can you look at me, Mole the Terribly discerning, and even pretend to think I would set foot in a Klatch where the sole entertainment is conversation and the food is selection of squares
I shall delight in changing No I cannot, to NO I ABSOLUTELY WILL NOT
NO I ABSOLUTELY WILL NOT see Ani Difranco with you again
I am MOLE the TERRIBLY DISCERNING and I cannot waste my time with a singer whose lyrics meander like the tributaries my forefathers navigated to get to the once anxious but now formidable burrow where I was raised. I shall stay at my abode, quaff mead while I and my cat and will laugh heartily at your foolheaded invitation until we collapse into each others’ arms from exhaustion.
NO I ABSOLUTELY WILL NOT accompany you to a yoga class. You should be ASHAMED of yourself for inviting me to partake in a maelstrom of twisted limbs and grunts. Is there a prize to take? Is there a wench to mop my brow should it begin to weep? I thought not. The answer is then is no,
I would not dare to unfurl my precious carpet to lie writhing on the ground with pale-faced contortionists.
NO, I ABSOLUTELY WILL NOT call you for a second date. You, who dares to call yourself a man, but hath no steed. You who dares to call yourself a man, but cannot partake in a loaf because of sensitivities to wheat. Where is your lust for hunger?
NO, I ABSOLUTELY WILL NOT attend this meeting where the art of talking for hours and saying nothing is routinely practiced. Will we not wrestle each other to get our points across? Then the answer is no.
You may not ask me to repeat my name one more time
I do not need your wretched request
I declare it of my own free will
I am MOLE the TERRIBLY DISCERNING
and the answer is no