Blame loco motives for greasing the wheels that squeak, mouselike, above the caverns where coal blossoms grow. There, free from the pressures thrust upon their multifaceted kin, they live in monklike isolation, feeding on koans and comics with only the occasional canary to interrupt their scholarly pursuits.
When the mood is right, they shift to the left, swaying to the rhythm of the rails that run amok in their haste to make waste, for smog is seldom carbon-neutral in any botanical sense.
When the mood is in the seventh house, it's understood that harvest time has come. All that blossoms is not gold, but that's no reason to take chances during an identity crisis. Bags packed and passports at the ready, no 'niners are going to shovel their dreams away this time.
No sir.
Favorite phrase here: "When the mood is in the seventh house." VoilĂ :
ReplyDeletehttp://oneletterwords.com/weblog/?id=8671
I didn't know that coal blossoms were golden:
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Amazing. It's beginning to dawn on me (much like the age of Aquarius, since time is now retrograde) that, no matter how tangled my web, you're able to concoct a graphic representation of it, without breaking a sweat, or even denting one, probably.
ReplyDeleteYes, coal blossoms are always golden, and often glitter. Hence the precariousness during crises of identity, or botany.
By the way, if you happen to run across an alleged photograph of coal bumps, a healthy dose of skepticism should be taken forthwith. Coal bumps only show up in seismographs.
DeleteBy the other way, I just blundered into an alleged seismograph of coal bumps, but it wasn't. It was a photograph. Cleverly enhanced, yes, but with the aid of a topical application that only obscures the coal dust.
DeleteI'd call that cheating.
Egads, Jeff. I think you just ran over a photomicrograph of microscopic photographs left by the wayside. Why must there always be a downside? I'm beside myself. Are you?
DeleteWhy yes, I believe I am. You seem unduly familiar. Are you?
DeleteNo. That only encourages me.
DeleteMmm. I say you're a shill.
DeleteAnd you're another.
DeleteAm not.
DeleteWhat then? A farth?
DeleteAm not.
DeleteAre so.
DeleteI hate you.
DeleteI hate you too.
DeleteRe: your phrase "unduly familiar," I just did a Google Books search for "undo familiarity" and not one of the 13 results involved a deliberate pun.
DeleteI see what you mean. Perhaps it's because "undo familiarity" has such a sober ring to it?
DeleteHere's the "sober ring" photo you were expecting:
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Thank you. Sobering indeed, something that CERTAIN PEOPLE around here could benefit from. I can see I'm going to have to separate those two.
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