Write! Write! Write!
Yeah, and guess who couldn’t tell from the tiny sample picture that the person in this photo was writing music, and then I couldn’t figure out how to remove a picture, or if it’s even possible. At any rate, there’s a button in the corner of this page that says “Write,” so that’s what I’m doing. No, I can’t write music, either.
I’M TRASH AND I’M TROUBLE
There is, at the present time, a board with a nail in it on the ground down the street from my house, just waiting for some hillbilly to grab it and use it in a fight. And don’t think that wouldn’t happen around here. There is also an old couch in my back yard. (The people who brought the new couch wouldn’t haul the old one away, so Nick had to haul it out of our living room with his powerful jaws. Rom then beat it half to death with a sledgehammer.) But we have been outdone by our neighbors down the street, who have an old mattress on their front porch. They thought the Heavy Trash people would pick it up. They were wrong, so there it stays.
DO YOU KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS?
Almost back-to-school time, because everyone’s forgotten that back-to-school should be in September. I still like looking at school supplies, and found myself wondering if I could still find a use for construction paper. Is there a use for construction paper by anyone other than elementary-school children? The same question could be asked of papier-mache.
THE PERFECT FINAL TOUCH
–Vultures circling at Franklin St./St Joe Ave. No, I’m not dead yet, in spite of this fiendish heat, which is, of course, not caused by climate change, because climate change would mean we shouldn’t be driving quite so much, which is, of course, unacceptable.) SEE HOW I MADE A PARENTHESIS HERE, EVEN THOUGH I HADN’T STARTED ONE, BECAUSE I AM PARENTHESIS-ADDICTED. I am also drunk. Because a guy on the TV said we shouldn’t drink during the heat wave, so of course I had to do it. We boomers are irrepressible.
KUDOS WHERE DESERVED
Whatever “kudos” may be, I issue them to my former co-worker 911SK, who (having left 911 for less-stressful climes at the Water Dept.) said she wanted to stuff ice cubes down her pants in this heat, because “it’s a clam bake down there.” Now I will think of that whenever I go out in the heat. We need more clever sayings by women.
But it’s back-to-school season, so it’s bound to cool off soon, right? RIGHT? Oh, that’s right, we don’t go back to school in September anymore. We know better somehow.