Valences, meantime

Qu’est-ce que c’est loosy goosy?

Proust is not a verb, he Prousts, he Prousted, they Proust. One cannot say, "She attempted to Proust his robust clipping on a day when the hoarfrost stimulated the overhang", and vicey-versey, acey-deucey, loosy-goosy. Valences, meantime, is suffering. Do not feed or water Valences and by no means should you contribute to telemarketing campaigns that may, in fact, befront Valences. Shoes make the man, the man shods the horse, and shoos ingredient the fly pie. Pastries are less and less what they purport to be and more so what I'll term "Monomaniacal Strategies." One must take precautions when attending a huddle of pastry chefs lest one succumb to its dogma: A pie in the safe, a safe in the antechamber, an antechamber of the mind. You could term the mind a subset of the gray matter or you could think of it as the collective Take Offense, mind you. The Heed. Let "X" equal "Variance" then rewrite all your mathematical primers. There is a chance, afterall, that The Prophet will arrive, and by "arrive", I mean the impossible. It's not that we, as a culture, will witness "Opposites", in that event, but language will vary to such an extent that we will require algebra for point-of-sale transactions. It will not mutter if you batter yourself or matter yourself it will not butter. The Valences will come on then, and by "come on", I mean blue you, so with that in mind, go forth and affection the ills of the ilk, bebother, beblather, belove.

Whirreds to the Whys

When Creme Is Not Enough

The new defibrillators restart the heart and uncover the lies, as well. You can't expect to suffer a heart malady and conceal an untruth any longer. The World War II era Germans considered -- briefly -- world domination of breakfast foods, almost naming their secret police the Waffles S.S. Pancakes everywhere shivered in their griddles, but for a typo, some shivered in their girdles, some women found petrified toastcakes in their bloomers. Lord forbid a greater typo -- the girdle cake -- but why not offer shortstacks in the stacks? Pancakes amidst the musty volumes, as it were, if only our librarian entrepreneurs showed some spine. Why is it such a big deal to sell a seat, I've sold a chair, I've bought a chair, I'm a chairman, in that I seat myself, I chair, I prefer to swivel or recline. A charwoman, on the other hand, cleans the flue, proving that there's a fine line between sitting and dirty politics, Mr. Blog Goy of Itch, Mr. Income Bent. Cherub dub dub, three angels in a tub, or rhymes you'll never hear again, and never did. Saying "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner" is like saying "The Grime of the Ancient Grammarian" or "The Lime of the Ancient Librarian." Speaking of which, Citrus is the greatest marketing device since The Great Diversification. I mean, GM, Ford, and Chrysler have been selling Lemons, successfully, for years. Barnum & Bailey considered -- briefly -- running a Citrus instead of a Circus, no rings but rinds, instead, causing Lion Tamers and Loin Teamsters, alike, to shiver in their bouts. With regard to bouts, had the Poultry rumbled with the Samoyeds, you'd've then had the Chickens on the Spitz, whereas true Hybridity is an inebriated wedded woman, a wet dame, so to squeak.

The Consequences Are Offal

To Overestimate the Saw. To Underestimate the Emergency.

Awful can be Awe Full while Offal is a Circuit, as in a Troupe of Performers from Lesser Bulgaria who lament the virtues of Cowguts au Poivre. Bulgarian officials once pontificated a national name change from "BOOL-gary-UH" to "Pineapple" and a national anthem, hence, that began, "O Pineapple / I opine for thee / I pine for thee / O Pineapple." Emergencies may include Deprivations but are not limited to the Extremities and do not, in general, require Handsaws and Clobber Mallets, unless the Emergency is related to a Derailment, in which case, everyone should don his or her Clobber Mallet, and speak his or her mind without any inhibitions. I was last struck by a Clobber Mallet in the Millennium, and by "struck", I mean moved, physically, by skid steer loader. Back in the days, that is, when a little Despair used to be good for you. "I'm prescribing a little Despair," the doctor would say, whilst scribbling furiously in his Rx pad, then the patient trooped across the boulevard to Woolworth's and sucked down a few Eggcreams while the pharmacy fulfilled the prescription: A Little Despair Twice Daily Take with Bonbons or Dilly Creme. According to legend, Isaac wanted to beget a son named Isau because he believed in Tradition, namely, that the name-bearer would saw, proudly, himself, rather than be Esau, who would saw electronically, on the Internet. Instead of begot, Isaac forgot, and begat a spat with Jacob, who ate the pottage and minded the cottage, until he was cot age, and slept in the Mudroom. "Du tout," say the French. "Do toot," say the Dealers. Which is a Circuit, as in a Troupe of Performers from Lesser Bulgaria. For all we know Confusion may be our salve, and the associated religion, Confusionism, may be benevolent. Desireable, even, in an auto-erotic kind of way, you know, the arousal we all feel at the sight of the Clunker, the combustion of the petroleum. It is Aweful if it is Offal, it is Awe Full if it is Awful, it is Offal if the light dawns on the nation-state of Pineapple, and its armed forces, sporting Hawai'ian Pizzas on their Epaulets, storm the Taverns, the Caverns, the Houses of Multigrain Toast Cakes.

Decline in the Jaws

11. Thou shalt not blame thine Economy for all thy Failures.

When the Deer Tick bit the Heretic in the Arctic, it was the Deer Tick that suffered a chilly Apostasy. The Heretic, meantime, applied an Epoxy to his Piety, his devotion, that is, to baked dishes which feature savoury ingredients. To cure its economic ills the U.S. Government ought to encourage more Savouring, hugging one's self, in essence, whilst beaming a beatific smile. Left alone, Demand Side Economics will default to the Ultimatums of Old Tomatoes. The Seventh Day Dentists believe in the filling of cavities, offshore drilling, and looting the billfold -- on Sundays. The Great Gingiva, himself, awards the highest honour, the Plaque of the Holy Molar, to that Seventh Day Dentist who seeks the Lucrative Path to the Wisdom Teeth. The earth, meanwhile, faces not only The Greenhouse Effect, but the loss of its vast and valuable Carbonated Waters. These waters have gone flat in recent years, threatening our Soft Drink, beloved Cola, thereby imperiling all Cost Of Living Adjustments. Households may have to switch to Hard Drinks, instead, nails in a bucket of water, or Graceless Drinks, abusers of which often end up in the hospital, in The Awk Ward. Skeptical? Consider the case of the "escort" who received no formal training before going on that first call. A real Layperson, as it were. "Next!" shouts the Clerk. "Next!" shouts the Cleric. For these are the days that fjord the very trickle.

Anemia Per Se

"Darn deez doodles!"

An Appointment can be a Disappointment whereas an Ointment can salve a Disappointment, which may, in fact, remove the Appointment. Luggage is that which you lug; baggage is that which you bag; adage is that which you add. If you want a diagnosis, you will have to settle for a Diagnosis Per Se. Describe your symptoms one month in advance and await your Diagnosis Per Se underneath the oleander, beside the Winded Patient Per Se, the Rattled Patient Per Se, and the Chapped Patient Per Se. Is peat hummous a Canadian legume dip? Does one harvest peat in the classical sense of the word harvest or the classical sense of the word peat? "Repeat" is to "peat again" whereas more than two peats, i.e., a "threepeat", gets you into the whole Multiple Bean Salad Corollary. Kind of like The Eve before The Eve. Next thing you know, we'll be celebrating every blooming day, irregardless of that day's "musty parlors of yore." I think I feel a Germ coming on, I mean, Germ in the singular. Germ became Germs the way McDonald's has served more Cheeseburgers Per Se, than Cheeseburgers. Every American must engage in QUIZ, no Americans must engage in STOUT, some Americans engage in both QUIZ and STOUT, many Americans resent QUIZ and resent STOUT, those (latter) Americans have, for the time being, lost their electric power. Worshipped is a cross between warshipped and horsewhipped and worcestershire and horseradish but The New Church of Ladder Day Saints will be honoring those who have performed miracles "on the rungs" as it were. There are steps to that faith and footholds, too, at the top of the climb Norman Rockwell hands you a burrito; guacamole is $0.50 extra.

Beef Pineapple Robot

Be ruthless. Go for the juggler.

I have become the kind of person who can order biscuits over gravy but not the kind of person who can tolerate the true definition of a Constitutional -- what is, essentially, bicycle chaos. The French grape suffers more than the Chilean grape and more than the Syrian grape, but does it suffer more than the Russian potato? The Walloons ballooned and the Huguenots tied they selves into Huge Knots. People say that they are Walloons do people say that they are Walloons people say that they are Flemish, afterall, as well as Phlegmish. Newspaper titles need to be more flexible. The North County Times, for instance, really should be recast as The North County Good & Bad Times. Whatever the case may be, Southern California has a higher percentage of Experimental Yogis than any other region on the globe. Speaking of which -- said Yogis have much to say on the topics of globulization and Globular Warming. Meat eaters may swallow the fear of the animal but that doesn't mean the meat eaters shall become fearful, in fact, it means that they will become Chicken Satay Robot. Some will become Drunken Noodle Robot while others will become Beef Pineapple Robot. There is no Moo Shu Pork Robot although there is Moo Shu Porkbarrel Robot and his name is Congress. After Tex / Mexy I was Lava / Tory and then I felt human again, i.e., I could, once again, Go for the Jugular or is that Go for the Juggler? The Sea Breeze came face to face with the Santa Ana and the result was When Microclimates Collide. A cute angle is obtuse, when you dream it, all angles are gifts, yours is I Sauce a Lease -- Eye Saws the Police -- Applesauce Please, dig it and "ridic" as in Ridiculous, Citizen, as in the Walloonie Bin.

The Confusion of The Swede

Tip #3: A complex moment. No sudden movements.

The Swede sets out everyday at sunbreak, dressed in blue, in his turtleneck diamond pattern sweater. Nobody ever says "good morning" or "nice axe" or "your postmodern haircut." No, The Swede departs in a silence so Swedish it is Appalachian. To be Swedish is to be sugary-like, to be Sweetish. The Swede takes a nip from his Ass Pocket of Stockholm Glögg and commences to chop. The Swede chops This and The Swede chops That. To be a Swede is to chop, afterall, the wind does he chop and the water, too, in Sweden is a hard, heavy water, in need of regular chopping to effect a kind of order, oh, the chop of the Briny. At times, every Swede faces a band of marrauding foresters who attempt to yank his blue underoos out from beneath his blue trousers, and those Swedes caught in that kind of malevolent horseplay must then live in The Northern Land of the Wedgie, in that, they become Norwegian. That doesn't really happen so much anymore as most Norwegians are a stoic group. At the end of the day, The Swede mutters a time-tested, focus group-tested, market-tested joke that he calls his Nordic joke: "I am Finnished," he says, followed by, "heh heh heh." He has, by then, axed himself and his clan a varmint that he places, each day, in a fresh paper sack, folks, a fresh paper sack. He then walks the sad, isolated, chilly road that leads to the traditional Swedish ski lodge betwixt a spray of spruce pines. It is amazing, thus, in those sub-Arctic moments, with snow weighing down the land, that the woman, in blue top and mini-skirt, comes out of doors, leading the traditional eight Swedish children. We can never see The Swede in that instant, for every such Swede is turned away from the Swedish folk artist who accompanies him home each evening, but that Swede does wield "a searching pride" as he does wield his paper sack: "This life," he thinks. "This varmint. This axe. This Sweden!"