are you kidding, i'm going to watch with both eyes open. not too often you get to see a public castration
let's get ready to ruuuuuuuuuuuummmmmmmblllllllllllllleeeeeee!!!!!
Paisonally, I like a beard, especially if it's a salt and pepper, BUT ... only if it's clean an neat, and the guy wearing it is clean and neat!
I'm such a bore!
Misti, you're NO bore!! Period.
I like your new word. Paisonally. Brings to minds eye a picture of a beard with salt and pepper colored curving abstract figures.
Paisonally, a fine mistical word, is onomatopoetically apropos, one to be sneezed at. Perhaps it's the pepper.
You're a whiz with words, Ma.
Debacle, had to get my handy-andy Atomica working on that one!
on·o·mat·o·poe·ia (ŏn'ə-măt'ə-pē'ə, -mä'tə-)
n.
The formation or use of words such as buzz or murmur that imitate the sounds associated with the objects or actions they refer to.
That's right, misti, though perhaps it only applies in my case, sorta suggestive of the sound I make when sneezing. It's not normal, mind you ... just one I force myself to emit in place of OH-SH*T!!! which is my natural inclination on such occasions.
Misti
That Atomica is great. I use it all the time ;-)
Gezzy, yup, I'd be lost without it:)
Are you dug out of the snow yet?
Onomatopea? I thought that was an ornamental mat that Yoko keeps on the floor of her bathroom. Not unlike the little rug I keep on my upper lip. Had some chin-hair for a while in the late '60s, early '70s when such things were deemed fashionable, but people kept mistaking me for Here Comes Everybody and I can't sing a note on-key. So the chin-hairs hadda go. I must admit, though, that no woman ever complained, one way or the other.
Misti
There were lots of drifts and since the wind was blowing the right way, the snow didn't gather much at our house, so we actually didn't even have to shovel this time :-D
The Handlebar
Somewhere in the archives, amidst the pictures of baby baptisms and Thanksgivings at Nana's, is a professional photograph of a hippie-looking joe with a 12-string guitar. He has long Irish brown hair, down below his shoulder blades and a beard of reddish fluff that winds and soars in several directions till it joins the hair above his ears, which of course are not visible. What is visible, what makes the viewer's eyes open, is the mustache floating on the man's full upper lip. It is a natural handlebar of maple syrup auburn threads that bend into a perfect parentheses. There is no wax, no emollient of any kind holding it in that pose. It just grows the way that God intended for it to grow. When he sang his songs the tips of it bobbed and waved like a philharmonic conductor's hands.
====
In the middle of a hot July Tulsa night, while getting a long drink of water, the joe reached for the razor he used to cut back the wilder hairs of beard. The glory was gone in under three minutes, beard, sides and 'stache. He was washed, rinsed, patted dry, and back in bed in under five.
Morning came and his three year old held his face in wonder, his wife smiled into her coffee, and the joe looked out the window waiting for a song to come to him about that moment in the night.
Joe Nation
Joe, did the song ever come?
Gezzy: It's good to know you're not below snow level as I was thinking of sending the troops:)
JoeN: Beautiful story, and the name of the song is ... ???
LOL Misti. Thanks for the thought ;-)
Joe..what great thoughts..lovely. Id like to know the song myself but, just glad he shared.
Goatee on the man this weekend...gotta say...I liked it..best of both worlds.
Send in the troops for Gezzy??? lol they'd never be heard from again, and love every minute of it
Shes got the horses if she gets in trouble, shell be fine, Im sure. You just never know though..its good to have peeps lookin out anyway. Im more worried about ehbeth out on a dog walk dissappearing into a snowbank...shes just a little gal ya know, and with little dogs to boot!
