Mullypalooza Rocks, Cheers, Bores, Eventually Annoys

(Vermillion, SD) - South Dakota-born Floridian Molly W. recently brought her own special brand of delightful banter, humor, gaeity, and insight to family and friends in South Dakota's hottest and quaintest southeastern college town. Accompanied at first by her hilariously droll and straight-shooting Nebraska gal-pal Mindy, Wortham was a welcome sight for eyes that had not set upon her since UK Wedding-a-Ganza 2005.

Charmed at first by Wortham's witty and observational bon mot's regarding gnats and chill, Wortham's loved ones, assured the endearingly cranky witticisms would fade as soon as Wortham acclimated to the climatic environment she herself had lived in for over 30 years, continued to celebrate the very special homecoming of their beloved friend.

Feted with a Mexican lunch, a sushi garden party and a slumber party, special appearances by Claude and Justin, and rollicking rock outs at Carey's Bar (which recently acquired pleather lounge furnishings in anticipation of "Mullypalooza") Wortham appeared to enjoy her time, often sporting giggles and her own charming signature duck laugh.

In spite of Wortham's avid and enthusiastic participation in Vermillion life, however, the critical asides chiding South Dakota's severe welt-inducing insect population and 50 degree-ish weather did not fade with time as was hoped, but rather gathered momentum to such a point as to foresake all other points of conversation.

Numbed at first into boredom and later, total annoyance, Albert Fish, with whom Wortham mostly lodged, said: "Ya knoooow....it's Molly! One would be worried if she wasn't at least a trifle bitchy. But then, as the days dragged into weeks, and her crabby drone overpowered even that of the swarms of humming, biting gnats, I found myself going to my happy place quite frequently. And by happy place I of course mean my bathroom. Or sometimes SpeeDee Mart. The bathroom at SpeeDee Mart, I mean. Anything to escape (and here Fish's voice switched to a bitchy falsetto) 'Oh! Why is it so cold! Oh! Why won't these gnats leave me alone! Oh! Why are you already going to bed, Al, it's only 4:30 in the morning! Oh!'"

Even the initial delight of blood relations turned to beleagurement and eventually intolerance.

"I left victims in the disaster-stricken river basin of the Jim River -- people yearning for food, shelter, dry clothing -- to spend time with my sister whom I love," enjoined Claude Abeln. "Yeah, I bet the citizens of Redfield who lost their homes and their jobs to floods and tornadoes would love to have the luxury of whining about (and here Abeln's voice switched to a bitchy falsetto) 'not being able to find their cute jackets when its just soooo coooold outside, and worrying that their latest bug bite might undo the amazing wrinkle repair provided by pricey cosmeceuticals.'"

Abeln added: "Thank god Justin arrived in time to distract my attention toward titillating tales from the noodle factory."

Worst hit by the unseasonal bitch front was Wortham's younger sister Renee. Having recently built a popular following of writers and artists with her uplifting guidance for the book The Artist's Way, Abeln said her sister's presence at group meetings was a "nice change of pace" at first. But then, Abeln reported, things simply got out of control.

"Okay, so like we talk about being positive about stuff, right? Like, if you can imagine it, you can make it happen, you know?" huffed Abeln. "And, okay, maybe some people might think it's corny, but it, like, works for us and stuff, okay? And so then Molly's at our meeting and she's all like (and here Abeln's voice switched to a bitchy falsetto) 'Blah blah blah blah blah! Oh! Look at me, I manifested Jim Bravo, I manifested Jim Bravo!' And I'm like, yeah, wow, crazy, what are the chances? What are the chances of running into Bravo in Vermillion at Carey's for chrissakes. Like, oh, I don't know, 99 out of 100? And what are the chances that Bravo would have some quirky shit from a Sioux City thrift store that Molly might be interested in? Oh, like 110 in 100 maybe?"

'Oh! I manifested Bravo! Oh!' Abeln continued in a bitchy falsetto. "Oh! You're about to manifest my wedge boot in your ass is what you're manifesting!"

"Molly shoots a few fish in a barrel, and - blammo! - she's mastered the ancient art of channeling positive creative energy and is 'manifesting,'"Abeln added. "Gimme a break."

"I don' know," friend Katy commented. "Tuh listen to her, which'n franky, we all jes' kinna' stopped doin' after 'bout the fift day, you know, you'dda thunk she'd ne'er spent a day on the praaahrie. I mean, I know it's no penninsuhlaahr or tropical pare dise, and we're all real happy she n' Gregg have done real good for themselves down there, him going to Fuji 'n all. But it ain't like she did'n grow up bein' et by gnats and skeeters and eatin' commod cheese and vittles jes like the res' of us. Sheet. An' she wans us'm to go down there and visit her!? Now how we goan 'ford Sundee togs fer that, I aks you?"