So I graduated wizarding school knowing a

So I graduated wizarding school knowing a smattering about potions, hardly a thing about current affairs, and two cantrips, Create Scotch Egg & Ebenezer's Bewildering Rhinoplasty.

That was more than sufficient, however, for my current position, scraping the undersides of ice floes to harvest the wee crustaceans there. My lack of current affairs savvy, howev

er, I say savvy a lot. Why do I do it? Well, that goes back to my days when I was born on a ship. It was the Devil's Corpuscle, and I was born in the bilge.

ratories for a swig of the various bubblies. "Get out you!" shouted Prof. Herbert Meacham. Mom in her potbellied sailor guise rasped, "I got a load o' Aztek gold. You wanna ride?"

The ratories were all ready to go! Mr. Ratorie had his fedora hat and blue coat on. His wife took much longer to get dressed, even if it was for weeding. The little ones were not

as put together as the congregation was used to from little ones. They were loud, obnoxious and, more importantly, buck naked. Mary Sawyer was seen chasing one down with a diaper.

She was clearly outnumbered. They tumbled out the sliding glass doors onto the Astroturf lawn, shrieking. Mary, in her advanced years, was no match for the Olympian toddlers.

Mary's only hope was to call upon Tonya Harding's ex boyfriend to control the herculean tots. His van screetched up to the curb and he emerged with a baseball bat and a bottle of

rye to steel his nerves, for he’d never whacked anyone but a snooty figure skater. Finding the door ajar, he went in and was set upon by the tots, who beat him silly with his bat.