Saturday, November 27, 2010

lawn furniture sale

we have three kinds. all prices final.

the first is clear, with a healthy coating of chalk dust to give that sense of depth and an academic feel.

the second is tree bark, sort of a camouflage for your home. a new look and texture for your yard or garden. not recommended for use with white or pastel shorts or polos. insect life is a natural part of the patina. coordinates well with wooden porches.

the third is licorice red. a sweet, sensual addition to any decor. not edible, no matter what your neighbor's children may claim.

Thursday, November 25, 2010

return of recipes

1 house
1 rabbit
1 food tray
0 cage

release rabbit into house. leave adequate food in tray. expect chaos.

Monday, November 22, 2010

shame time

let's cast some shame on orange juice. one of the leading factors causing a national trend away from the consumption of citrus fruit, orange juice is taking over. it stains easily, smells odd, and combines poorly with many flavors. in other words, it's a perfectly horrid beverage. why drink orange juice? it fits better in our reusable mugs than a pile of orange slices. and i do not mean the candy kind.

Friday, November 12, 2010

who is worried about giant rabbits?

i am not worried about giant rabbits. i am not even worried about normal or abnormally small-sized rabbits, both of which are harder to detect and more elusive than their humongous relatives. perhaps if i was a turnip farmer, a giant dog owner, or an animation studio executive, these things might be larger concerns.

it seems to me that people would be best to stick to the issues that affect their lives. i have more concern for the chocolate content of flavored milk than i do for the size and population density of long-eared hopping things that may or may not bring me candy in the spring.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

the new old is the old you

snap back in your mind to a time. any old time might do, but be specific for once. pick, let's say, three years ago. three or so years and seven dislocated vacation ends back. you may remember this as a time when working was less of a distraction from your ordinary existence. it wasn't so much the hours as the general sense that things were resolved within a certain time. physical presence in the workplace was the main dividing line between spheres of existence.

this isn't to say things are any worse these several years hence. you have a deep rut still in the carpet beneath your recliner. the fibers of the rug seem to hold up to the strain, even if there's an occasional liquid stain to darken what normally fades with age. outside, a vague sense of the world creating noises that are blocked by what are actually not four, but six walls. windows all around, not above or beneath. sun conveying images as it bounces through. birds spearing ripe apples.

Monday, November 01, 2010

Move over pumpkins

you know who you are. you're the wormy oozing mess i scooped off the porch with a garbage bag. you're sprawled all over my fireplace in a fuzzed-out cotton blend. you're on the back of every boy and girl in town, except the changeover is now in sight, and something deeper seems to be on the horizon. you're stuck in groccery store clearance zones for two dollars off. it's over between us.