The price we pay,
And it is substantial,
To cue our ills
Is more than financial:
Bloating
Blindness
Difficulty in swallowing
Dizziness
Diarrhea
Bouts of unchecked wallowing
Anxiety
Insomnia
Excessive flatulence
Nausea
Muscle spasms
Shortness of extravagance
Why, oh why
Can’t side effects be
Welcome symptoms
Of living healthily?
Only when physicians
Prescribe meditation
And bright sunshine
Will patients discover the
Side effect of feeling fine.
Driving down a busy street in Tallahassee this afternoon I came across a street preacher:
On one side of his sign he’d written
He That Hath The Son Hath Life
On the other side was written
Repent! The End is Near!
I tried to snap a photo of that side, but I was driving, so safety first, right?
This Store Closing sign was to the man’s left, so maybe the end really is near.
ok people, i was feeling silly. indulge me.
platypus satypus
the top of a red
double decker bus
contemplating his
fatypus at the end
of the daytypus.
what am i?
pondered platypus,
feeling all sadypus.
a fish or a
mammalpus? the
answers aren’t
clear to us.
well, look
countered buffalo
you have live
young, you know
you nurse them,
too, so you’re
definitely
a mammalo.
Peace, people!
My beloved housekeeper might think I’m insane. Her English is slightly better than my Spanish, and my Spanish is sadly lacking.
I hope I’m wrong about this, but I might’ve asked her to clean my sheep.
I have no sheep. I do have an oven. By the way, oven in Spanish is horno, not oveja.
Peace, people!
My attention span’s grown shorter
With time’s relentless trudge.
Predictably, my waist has widened
As have my hips and stately bust.
With no hesitation have I turned
To undergarments stout and bold
For Spanx has kept my jigglies firm
While years have turned my assets old.
cinderella danced
sleeping beauty slept for months
snow white cared for dwarves.
all in a day’s work
for princesses fair of face
haters gonna hate.
counting syllables
five, seven, then five again
sometimes those aren’t e-
(nough.)
mathematicians
find pleasure in haiku
where numbers still count.
Einstein, the poet?
relativity in words
theoretically.
Even witches, it seems, are keeping up with modern movements:
What? No kale? Barbaric!:
Great use of Twitter:
Well, in that case:
How about a food processor?:
To all the modern witches. You know who you are!
Happy Halloween!
I seldom watch Dr. Phil, but when I do it seems the episode always deals with someone cheating on his or her spouse/significant other. Surely his program deals with other topics, but I only get to see the philanderers.
Today’s show featured a woman who is cheating on her husband with an old high school flame. I found myself wondering why the husband doesn’t just say “adios, babe!” before riding off into the sunset. Likewise, her boyfriend seems to be waiting on the woman to make up her mind.
I’m not going to weigh in on the morality of the situation, I just wonder how a woman manages to get not one, but two men doing what she wants. Amazing. I can’t get mine to take out the trash.
Dr. Phil, can you help?
Gee, thanks!
Peace, people!
I took my beautiful mother-in-law, Saint Helen, to lunch at The Edison in Tallahassee today.
I had an outstanding BLT. She had a strawberry salad. We both had a cocktail!
Well, to be fair, Saint Helen only had half of one. I drank every last drop of mine.
Rosewater Pink Lemonade shaken with Bombay Gin is a lovely way to celebrate October 29. Or any other day, for that matter.
Peace, people!
Praying for Eyebrowz 