Musings of the Chronologically Challenged™ Fourth Generation
Friday, November 22, 2002
Since imitation is the highest form of compliment, I didn't think Chuck would mind if I launched "Pussyfootin" as a new addition to Indigoinsights. It will probably be sporadic, just like the writer, but from my entry into Blogging World, I have wanted to write something about cats or dogs. I am very passionate about animals (not rabid enough to send money to PETA!) but I wasn't sure if animal posts would be appropriate here. Imagine my delight when I found the Meryl Yourish Cattales! Then when Bubba and his fans/commentators had their say about Christmas puppies this week -- well, it seemed like a green light to me. Hence, >^..^< Pussyfootin. The connotation is that the material here was gleaned while "Pussyfootin" around -- not that it will necessarily concern itself with cats!
After reading redneckin's Thanksgiving tale, I stand mute. Don't miss it! A classic Southern tale, in the inimitable redneckin genre. A big ZIP!!
FROM THE IN-BOX -- email@example.com
How America Works
Let's see if I understand how America works lately . . .
**If a woman burns her thighs on the hot coffee she was holding in her lap while driving, she blames the restaurant. **If your teen-age son kills himself, you blame the rock 'n' roll music or musician he liked. **If you smoke three packs a day for 40 years and die of lung cancer, your family blames the tobacco company. **If your daughter gets pregnant by the football captain you blame the school for poor sex education. **If your neighbor crashes into a tree while driving home drunk, you blame the bartender. **If your cousin gets AIDS because the needle he used to shoot up with heroin was dirty, you blame the government for not providing clean ones. **If your grandchildren are brats without manners, you blame television. **If your friend is shot by a deranged madman, you blame the gun manufacturer. **If a crazed person climbs into the cockpit of an airliner and tries to kill the pilots at 35,000 feet and the passengers kill him instead, the mother of the deceased blames the airline.
I must have lived too long to understand the world as it is anymore. So if I die while my old, wrinkled butt is parked in front of this computer, I want you to blame Bill Gates, OK?
>^..^< The reason a dog has so many friends is that he wags his tail instead of his tongue.
>^..^< I thought I "got it" when all the plastic surgery was done. Neverland was also a clue. Affinity for little boys raised my eyebrows. Strange places for sleeping gave me pause. The biographical movie "The Jackson Five" pretty much clinched it. But the picture that went "around the world in 8 minutes" (or less) removed any doubt. Just in case there's anyone left on planet earth who missed it, "Whomp! There it is!"
>^..^< Yeah, I know. Anyone else would have named this cornucopia of crassitude Potpourri. But you can find potpourri just about anywhere. Seen any other Pussyfootin' lately?