The Wombat Cricket Club Debacle

That's right folks, J-J-Jimbo Ninny is back. Wipe your eyes, unclasp your hands, and save the hallelujahs, I know my return was long awaited, but the speaking in tongues should really be reserved for holy occasions....on second thought... theoje jksoekcj djkliehk iahelvjahcikeok ahwoeijckwol ! aoiejr !!joiajw eoivjwoeifjo.

Praise Ninny. Holy holy. etc. etc.

So Ninny is back. But where has he been you ask? Well, usually I'd reserve answers to such questions for the Ninny Spot's sister blog, Ask Ninny, however, since you were so polite in your query, and since Ask Ninny refers one to this page for referencing the cause of his prolonged absence, I shall share with you the tale.

You see, I, J-J-Jimbo Ninny, have been on sabbatical. For those of you wondering what exactly a sabbatical is, please ask on Ask Ninny. Yes, Ninny has been abroad (no no, not a broad, abroad, Ninny does not do drag, though he does greatly appreciate the artistry of it). Ninny was sent away on a mission of diplomacy to help negotiate a bit of a feud amongst the Wombat Cricket Club of South Central Buttpumpusville.

This was supposed to be a short yet fruitful mission where our Ninny would strengthen his skills as a mediator while building new connections and friends amongst the Wombat community. Unfortunately, the conflict amongst the cricket aficionados in Buttpumpusville was thick with hostility and complication, and it required a full six months before either side was willing to consider compromising towards an agreement. You see the Wombat Cricket Club is comprised of two main factions and three hundred and twenty seven and a half smaller factions. Because of the rather small size of the club, the three hundred and twenty seven and a half smaller factions actually make up the majority of the club, each faction is an individual, the half being a conjoined twin that, though fully independent of his once attached sibling, never grew to full stature and is thusly considered a half of a person. Oddly, he truly is only half of a person and consequently has difficulty with depth perception, performing any dance that isn't the pogo, and clapping. I digress, the point is, the two main factions only consist of two people each, or in this case, two wombats, and two sentient enchiladas both named Alfred. Apparently the Wombats and the Alfred Enchiladas had already reached an agreement upon my arrival in Buttpumpusville, and were ready to set the season calendar so they could start planning their Tupperware parties.
The three hundred and twenty seven and a half other factions, however, were on the verge of all out war. Each of the smaller factions had a different issue they felt was of the utmost importance in settling before setting dates for the season and moving on with their lives. The actual Wombats and the Enchiladas' differences had revolved around the eating of cheese in the club, conveniently the Wombats are both allergic to cheese, and the Enchiladas being made of Cheese, had no desire to be eaten. As a result these two parties settled on not allowing the consumption of cheese quite quickly, and left the club to sell seal tight lidded plastic ware to housewives and domestically enabled, yet socially inept gay men. The remaining factions argued this point for quite a while. One of the factions, named Pierre, whom had recently moved to Buttpumpusville from Arles, and whom had been eying the Alfreds with a slight hint of drool, felt that banning the consumption of cheese was blasphemous, and touted it as being blatant prejudice against him for being of French descent. His voice, however, was quickly silenced, quite literally, by a freak accident involving a salad shooter and a drunken hedgehog from Auckland which I shall refrain from explaining at the moment, let's just let be said that neither Pierre nor the Hedgehog shall be returning to the Wombat Cricket Club anytime soon.

The remaining three hundred twenty five and a half factions each assaulted Ninny with a number of complaints ranging from whether it was proper to wear a hat tilted forty five degrees to the left on a Sunday, to the prohibition of two legged dancing and clapping on the field. In the end Ninny prevailed, setting inline a number of compromises such as the infamous one handed clapping agreement of April, and the grueling yet successful agreement to the wearing of hats at any angle regardless of the day, as long as said hat was not adorned with pink ribbon or a large fluffy bunny (the exception being the fourth Thursday of each month, whereupon the adorning of a hat with pink ribbon and a fluffy bunny is requisite to playing with the club).

Having settled all of these conflicts Ninny has returned to his new home with Frankus and Charley in Hollywood where he is happily settling back into the life of a Ninny. He shall be venturing forth for San Francisco on Friday for some gay frolicking, so please look for him there. Otherwise, might I suggest a trip to Buttpumpusville to watch some Wombats, enchiladas, and others play cricket? The season oficially begins on Sunday, at 3:31 and 30 seconds. All hats without pink bows and fluffy bunnies are welcome.