The Smithsonian Institution has announced a new folk life initiative. It will be dispatching Lummices to resort towns, in the hopes of capturing, on reel-to-reel, American Administrative Narratives, and the Like. "Don't judge a person by his or her Noise, White or Otherwise," my Forebears stressed. What we could use, instead, are some Broasted Chicken Narratives, and the Like. Such as just W/T/F is a Broasted Chicken? Breasted / Rested / Broiled / Educated / Fluent in Clarinet / Fluent in Mellophone / Tested / Bested / Roasted / Broasted? I feel like I've asked people before, about Broasted Chicken, and I've been answered. In that, I'm having Broasted Chicken Deja Vu. Say this, like a Rap Star: "Greta Garbo-o-o / Brigitte Bardot-t-t." Let's go to a Chock House for some Swamp Gas (!!!)
According to a Russian Scientist we are approaching conditions akin to the Maunder Minimum, a Period that involved Sunspot activity, or the lack thereof, and the return to which may signal a Little Ice Age. Like the one that gripped the world (and gave it The Grippe) a few hundred years ago. I sure as hell hope so. We could use a little Maunder Minimum to counteract our Maximum Dumbass. In fact, our Maximum Dumbass may still defeat the Maunder Minimum. In that case you won't have, let's say, Junior, anymore, but Jumbo. You won't have, say, Hank Williams, Jr., but Hank Williams, Jumbo, or rather, Hank Williams, Jbo. That's as much Noise, in fact, as Healthfoods, All-weather Radials, and Bicameral Legislature, combined. I don't know about you, but I'm praying to the Sunspot Activity. Save us!