Lola at the Coffee House

<thud>

turning page

Oh my! She's fainted. Here Sybil, help her onto the sofa.

Oh my! She's fainted. Here Sybil, help her onto the sofa.

phew

thanks for throwing that water on me Lola

surprisingly refreshing!

Naproxen and water

Is there any wine left over from last night's pide, pizza and salad party?

I think Naproxen and wine might just take the edge off.

phew


did Frank leave any crosswords to work on?

It's sort of wrong that you even know that you HAVE hip flexors to hurt you.

Yes. Words are way cool. Etymologies are always interesting and often turn on a little light in your noggin. And then there is the dance that can be crafted with them, and songs are one particularly beautiful way of getting that. The book I'm linking on Ira Gershwin is not to be missed... http://bit.ly/10PJipT

I'll add that, in Beowulf, there's a term used to refer to a story-teller. And it translates precisely to "weaver of words".

Quick locational note. I'm in Campbell River up Vancouver Island a ways. It's stormy again tonight after several very welcome days of sky in blue. But back to grey now and rain and big wind and I can hear the ocean and the wind through all the big fir trees about. And it's getting warmer.

See any Bigfeet (bigfoots, Bigfoot) out there? In Ohio theyve begun a Bigfoot celebration each spring (motto: You aint seen any Bigfeet like in Ohio)

It coincides with the Hinkley Buzzard festival. Its kinda new but they hope it becomes a tradition with all the other fake personality days (like this fella Patrick, comin up)

Well, the Patrick day in New York and surely Boston and other such locales, is a worthy party tradition. I applaud that one.

The Hinkley! Oh yes, know all about that. How the folks come down from the mountains each spring, drinking good homemade as they descend and keeping at it for the next seven days. And there's the naked moonlight stuff. Yup. Always wanted to get to the Hinkley.

No bigfoot here. They're not fish-eaters and they are, for some reason not yet properly understood, scared shitless of drowning. So you don't find them on the coast. You have to go inland fifty miles and more to get to the edge of their habitat. There's the odd exception but that's been well reported on in grocery checkout magazines.

I had a depressing nature/nurture thought a minute ago. I found it uncomfortable, somehow. I imagined Tom Sawyer being born into a present suburb 10 miles out of Salt Lake City? Or dropped into an NRA family? And I just couldn't get my head around the problem enough to decide where such a Tom might end up.

And then I switched his landing to a Jewish family in New York. And bingo, that worked. That gives us Jon Stewart.

You know what's missing in our literature? From the ghost genre, always popular.

Ghosts are into scaring and haunting and reminding and it's all just mindless trolling or it's a sick meanness or a relentless deceased jewish mother.

How about ghosts that are just into sex in a serious way? Wouldn't that be an improvement? Wouldn't that speak to a literary vacancy?

I'm asking for a friend.

MAD magazie , when I ws a kid, had a comic strip of some character like "Bob the invisible sex addict" . The strip was pretty blown out after one episode. The invisiblity gimmick would allow him to stupf any woman he saw and laughs ensued. Story line got used up real quickly.
His character arc wasnt that complex

Twain didnt draw Tom Sawyer or Huck out ino adulthood. They each were involved in specific life lessons where, at completion, we leave the lads, futures still unrevealed.

SO I think a kid , born of the Gungasnakes (for example0 could participate in his own life lessons as the plot unfolds and leave us all with something important to ponder.

It's even more wrong from a chap's point of view.

Here's some hip flexor operations lads.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4p2-NNne-1k

A challenge, a challenge. It depends what you mean by "weighings". I took it to mean each time something got weighed. Your solution takes "weighing" to mean a stage in the process.
So I declare the competition null and void, and Joe owes for his whisky.

I've got friends there, and until very recently had relatives there too.

Jersey.



John's a Jersey boy. I'm sure he's not touchy about it, but some from NJ might be.

BTW: I love the thought of Tom being brought to the future to live amongst us, a reverse of the "Yankee in King Arthur's Court", no, yes?

Joe(There are Black Vultures flying around our new neighborhood)Nation

I'm stunned. So stunned that I have forgotten whether the word is "Welsher" or "Whelcher" and I refuse to make the effort to look it up.

Joe(You said eleven,,,,hah)Nation