June 10, 2010
Yes, the loon’s refrigerator is covered with Fiddleeebodlian character sketches made by the loon’s saner persona. Yes, no loon abode is complete without a poster of Jean Harlow tastefully placed on the floor. Yes, that hard edge oil pastel there executed by the loon in his youth is entitled “Strange Window”.
June 9, 2010
That there lady is Queen Lorelei Lo of Fiddleeebod. To look at her you wouldn’t think she’d been raised in the underground lair of a river dragon, would you? Nevertheless, so be it, such was the case. She appears in the first two fantasy stories written by the loon’s saner half, long before there was […]
June 8, 2010
The skinniest toad practiced medicine when she wasn’t driving on the NASCAR circuit. But at this particular moment, seated on the upper deck of the omnibus, she was livid. The only other passenger up there had insulted the skinniest toad’s choice of footwear. “If I was skinny and green like you, honey, I sure wouldn’t […]
June 7, 2010
The greens emerge, stepping onstage to introduce the first act. The yellows take the cue. They tumble, juggle, and sing a peppy song. The audience, decked out in snazzy new clothes, is thrilled.
June 6, 2010
“En garde,” said the sprinkler to the rainbow, and they fought until they were maimed into bleeding bits of hamburger.
June 5, 2010
One was on fire, and flapped lamely off by itself, billowing gigantically like a monstrous blood-red star. Catch 22, a great novel, unique, funny, odd, and serious as Hell, it’s one of the select few on my shelf of Read and Read Again and Again.
June 4, 2010
“How can you possibly justify cutting my funding?”
June 3, 2010
When It’s Laundry Stabbing Time in Pennsylvania I Love the Sounds of Tugboats in Her Hair
June 2, 2010
A food chain is: a. a chain made out of food. b. one way to skin a cat. c. unable to impersonate celebrities. d. the best way to describe Charles Dickens. e. extremely unpopular with the ladies. f. melancholy, baby.
June 1, 2010
“What tends to make me laugh makes other people eye me warily,” said the troubled meat inspector to an assembly of his favorite teapots. Then he laughed uproariously. His psychiatrist eyed him warily.