Several years ago I worked with a man named Mik.  Mik was a trainer on my team and he had this fantastic spoonerism he would share during a week-long training class.  He told it during the section about effective communication, although its primary purpose was to serve as a mid-week tension breaker.  Try reading it and see if you don’t enjoy it.

The Tale of Rindercella

Once upon a time in a coreign fountry, there was this girl named Rindercella.  Rindercella lived with her Mugly Other and two Sad Bisters.  In this coreign fountry there was also a Pransom Hince and he decided to have a bancy fall, inviting all the stabulous and fylish pich reople from riles amound. 

When the Mugly Other and the two Sad Bisters received an invitation to the Pransom Hince’s bancy fall, they were so excited they nearly dell fown in their rush to mo to the gall and buy some dancy fresses and shancy fooes.  When Rindercella asked if she was also invited to the Pransom Hince’s bancy fall, her Mugly Other laughed and said, “Wo nay!  You have to hay stome to hean the clouse.”

The dig bay came and as Rindercella’s Mugly Other and two Sad Bisters were leaving in their dancy fresses and shancy fooes for the Pransom Hince’s bancy fall, Rindercella just crat down and sied! 

She was kitting there a scrien’ when sall of a udden, Rindercella’s GaisyModFather sopped onto the pene and he asked…”Girl, cry are you whying?”  Rindercella niped her wose and, thearing her cloat, answered “Because my Mugly Other and two Sad Bisters have gone to the Pransom Hince’s bancy fall and I’m not invited because I have to hay stome and hean the clouse!”

Well, realizing that an injustice had been done, Rindercella’s GaisyModFather turned a cumbkin into an polden goach and six whice mite into hancing prorses, and told Rindercella, “Girl… you better be home by nidmight.”

When Rindercella arrived at the Pranson Hince’s bancy fall, the Pransom Hince wecretly satched at her from behind a widden hindow and, seeing her punning steauty, he lell in flove.  The two of them nanced and nanced all dite when sol of a udden, the slock clucked nidmite!  Rindercella staced down the rairs and when she bleached the rottom, she slopped her dripper.

As you can guess, the Pransom Hince found the slass glipper and decided that the very dext nay he would set about his rather’s koyal findom to find the fady’ss loot that the flipper would slit. 

When the Pransom Hince came to Rindercella’s house he tried the sass glipper on first the Mugly Other and you know it fidn’t dit.  Then he tried the sass glipper on the two Sad Bisters’ felly smeet, and again, it find’t dit.  Finally, he tried the sass glipper on Rindercella’s foot and fid dit, and the two of them heaved leverly after effter.

So the storal of the morey is…If you every go to a bancy fall and want to lull in fove with a Pransom Hince, you’ve gotta slop your dripper!

Fallen Princesses

Along the same lines, there is a fascinating photo series by Vancouvery photographer Dina Goldstein titled “The Fallen Princesses Project“.  Bristling against the beauty myths that Disney perpetuates through their “princesses” series, she imagines “happily ever after” being replaced with a more realistic outcome that addresses current issues.

Above is Cinderella, sitting alone in a dive bar, drinking.  The other images in the series are much more provocative, but I won’t steal Goldstein’s thunder by reproducing them here.  Please go visit the article at the JPG Magazine website.

Happy Thursday!