People always look at me funny when I tell them that I'm a historian. "History," I can hear them think (I'm special that way),"How utterly dull. This person must be one of the most boring people in the world." Well, needless to say, I don't find that true. And I must admit that I don't even find history all that dull. After all, we're doing weird things now that are interesting; it's just a matter of finding the weird things that they did back then!          So here, in an attempt to bring history out of the dullness of high school text books (they're never going to tell you anything interesting anyway) is a story from Medieval history, all "true" and documented with where to find it, if you are so inclined. Believe me, history is about as boring as a ferret down your trousers, and not nearly as painful!          Once upon a time there were real honest-to...well, I guess not God, but they were witches anyway. These witches, being the evil creatures that they were, would go around seducing men, and then, while the men slept, they would steal their penises. The witches would take the penises and make little pets out of them, housing them in an old bird's nest and feeding them corn which the penises snuffled around after and then ate.          Now, having one's penis disappear is a very embarrassing position, especially if you're married, but it's all the fault of those damn witches, so no one's going to mind too much. Still, it is not a position that one wants to stay in. This is a story of a man who had had his penis stolen away, but could not get it returned. This man, let us call him "Sir John Robertit", then went to his local witch trying to get some penis so that he would not be without. He went to the old woman (yes, she fit the stereotype) and begged that she could have one of the penises that she had snuffling round in her front parlor. After considering him and his plight (as well as the bag of gold) for some time she gave in.          "Alright," she said to the man's now radiant expression as he looked around for a better trade, "just don't take that large one there. It belonged to the parish priest and I'm especially fond of it!"

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Diana Oboler spends altogether too much time reading. She goes to Bard college where her class reading continues to fill her days with strange and wonderful events. She would like to thank Pookie, the Wonder Koala, for his helpful notes on her papers and to give him the credit for that "A" in underwater basket-weaving. She could have never done it without you, you silly not-bear-in-fact-a-marsupial-yet-still-called-a-bear-by-the-ignorant-masses. She would also like to thank the ignorant masses for their continued insight. On top of all that, she implores you not to buy (much less eat) Herr's Chunky Salsa as it is the worse salsa ever created and chunky only in the way that smooth jazz isn't.

Jasmine's Cat

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