Did you see the newsletter from Faulkner Society? The second I saw the name of one of the judges, Justin Torres, I said to myself, he's gotta be Puerto Rican. I looked him up and sure enough. He's judging short stories, and he's real young. Same Jeff Kleinman judging for novel--he never got a chance to read The Principles last year because it was only short-listed. Moira Crone is judging novella. I'll have to look her up--I'm guessing Jewish.

Pour the Chianti!

What's the next holiday? Oh, tomorrow. Spring! Let's do salad and asparagus and okey dokey artichokeys.

You'll soon get sick of me. When I'm writing heavy, I'm popping in frequently. Run me a tab!

Moira Crone: Veddy veddy impressive bio. In awe here... Also seems to be a southerner! I've got no chance!

Your poetry judge, should you choose to enter is Laura Mullen.

Impressive bio: Laura Mullen

Just add some violence to your poems, have someone get stabbed in the throat or something...

Whuh...

I jumped on your poem the moment you posted it. Went back to admire my work... and sure enough, Odin got in there before me. How does that happen? Oh, because I was more introspective and thorough (and coherent... shhhh don't tell him).

Anyway, most impressive!! And so was your poem--hahahahaha.

And there I was hanging out on FB all day. It was a vengeful ploy to take me away from my writing. And from taking the last beer.

I'll get you back. Vengeance is my name (on other forums), and Vengeance is my game (on Call of Duty: Modern Warfare). Sleep with one eye open. The other I'll have on the end of my dagger. So be it!

s_thatcher wrote:

Did I see Odin's latest poem about Botox? Well yes and apparently I'm the only one who got it right. Everyone else thought it was about fishing.

Tomorrow you'll read with only your good eye. Mark my words!

We used to wash our clothes in Twenty Mule Team Botox.  Ron Reagan was the the spokesperson.  Not the ballet failure Ron, but the president actor one.  Or was that June Allyson?  It was in black and white on a little screen.  When we got a color TV we switched to Tide or maybe Cheer.  Had a rainbow in the box.

I'm sorry about the FB incident.  Please don't take my one good eye, Ms. Vengeance, ma'am.

Write well today.  I'm spending most of the day in the Library.  Research.  Flirting with librarians.  Napping.

And no booze until three p.m. today.  At least.

Maybe that was Borax.  Dunno.

Nope, it was Borax.  Looked it up at the library.  And "twenty mule teams" should have been called eighteen mule and two horse teams.  The pulled big wagons loaded with borax from the mines in Death Valley to a supermarket near you.  The stuff is still pulled out of the earth and turned into laundry detergent but PETA intervened and it's now hauled by teams of Canadian migrant workers.  The workers are paid above minimum wage and given gift cards to IHOP every week.  They also get a 30 pack of Labatt's and free dental care.  Okay.  Some of the preceding facts may actually have been from a dream.  I have no idea which ones.

Almost Yeungling time.  Has anybody seen my cooler?

jpb2ndchance wrote:

The stuff is still pulled out of the earth and turned into laundry detergent but PETA intervened and it's now hauled by teams of Canadian migrant workers.

Too funny!!

Taking a beer break. Awwwww. sisboomba

Okay back to the grind.

My Sharona,  I can make a trellis out of birch saplings and branches.  Did that up at the river place.  It lasted three years but got squashed by a snow/ice storm.  Haven't rebuilt yet but it's in the plans for this spring.  So your peas can be climbing on a natural trellis.  And don't worry about depleting the birches.  Them suckers grow like weeds up our way.

Hope the weather warms up for your garden's sake.  And once I get going on yard clean up and all the attendant chores I'll be needing those heating pads.  I can only use liquid anesthetics for a limited time.  Then I fall down.

Most any funny line can be made better if "Canadian" is used.  That's one of my basic rules of comedy.

Okay, I'm outta here.

jb

This one's for jb - -

A group of friends went deer hunting and paired off in twos for the day. That night, one of the hunters returned alone, staggering under the weight of an eight-point buck.

"Where's Henry?" the others asked.

"Henry had a stroke of some kind. He's a couple of miles back up the trail," the successful hunter replied.

"You left Henry laying out there and carried the deer back?" they inquired.

"A tough call," nodded the hunter. "But I figured no one's gonna steal Henry!"

No, wait. You mean the buzzing wasn't in my head? I've been hitting these keys harder and faster just to drown out that damnable buzz. Maybe you should leave it be. Oh, and the egg's name is Melvin. It's OK though. He says he's ready to retire.

Yeah, maybe you should fix that buzz.

j l mo wrote:

An Irishman walks out of a bar...it could happen.

Hahaha...

I crack me up.

Some of the old jokes are the best.  And sometimes it takes an old person to appreciate them.  Not you jl, you're not old.  You're a kid, for pete's sake.

So lunch today, since it's sunny and warm outside, will be served on the deck (parking lot handicap spaces) and will consist of a healthy assortment of grilled sausages, peppers, onions, tomatoes and some squash I've been trying to get rid of for weeks.  Beer will be cold.  Dinner will not be served.  I'm giong fishing later.

Productivity is the goal today.

I found some leftovers in the fridge that didn't smell too bad, so I threw them in some eggs and made an omelet. Coffee's on, if anyone wants a cup. It's Saturday morning and the birds are singing and the air is crisp. Loving life. But...now I gotta get to work.

Happy Easter y'all!