Poetic Justice

I never saw a purple cow, I never hope to see one, But from the milk we’re getting now, There certainly must be one.

~ or ~

I never saw a purple cow, I never hope to see one, But I can tell you anyhow, I’d rather see than be one.

~or ~

The once was a man from Nantucket….. uh… never mind.

Why am I bringing this up? It’s Limerick Day, that’s why and up until today, I never knew how the rest of that Nantucket one went. In some circles, it could be considered really dirty. Uh, wait a minute, I don’t think the purple cow poems are actually limericks.

Does anyone remember when Johnny Carson announced the toilet paper shortage in1973? Well, it finally happened here, but not with toilet paper. When my niece Melissa was living with us while she was going to Rutgers, or Rukkers, for any true Jersian worth his salt, we somehow managed to acquire a virtual lifetime arsenal of paper napkins; huge amounts from Costco. Well, she went back home in, if I’m not mistaken, 2005. We just used the last of the serviette stockpile and have been forced to use the quicker picker upper only because the weather is warmer and I’m wearing short sleeves.

The chippers came yesterday and in about an hour they were finished. While I spent a few minutes observing them, I wondered if it wouldn’t be easier to use good old fashioned manpower to load the chute rather than have someone operate the swaying crane that had to be manually lined up to it anyway. I guess the one advantage to that was that they could load larger loads quicker at one time, otherwise, I suppose they’d still be there.

I considered trying to recontact Lori the agent lady I met at the Javitz a few years ago, the one who told me “Oh, yes, send me more. This is one story I’ll never forget.”  I sent her what she wanted back then and never heard a word from her, even after my follow up a month later. I was doing research last night and found tons of people on message boards saying the same thing, that she doesn’t answer anybody. So, I’m not going to bother. I’m just going to bitch here and look elsewhere for someone fresh to contact.

There’s an intoxicating heady aroma wafting about my nostrils this morning. I am putting together a spaghetti sauce for tonight’s dinner. It is Wednesday, after all and I’m plumb out of the last batch I had made. If there’s one thing I can do is make a sauce. Maybe I should take a cue from my friend Bob, who is about to self-publish his own cookbook, and write a cookbook of my own. Spaghetti sauce and apple pie. Well, if I use large font, I might get 3 or 4 pages out of it. Oh, but if I add Grandma S’s Red Velvet Cake recipe to it, 6 pages–tops. Oh, wait, I know, I can add in all the take out menus I have and I can include a section of recipes for “those who in diet” .

The only other business today is that you should check out the cave divided on who should go from American Idol tonight. Check it out by clicking the newts’ thumb pic.

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