I’m trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey, bloomered and bonneted and petticoated and caped, singing Christmas carols at a nursing home. The assembled residents are far more grateful than we deserve – my quartet of Victorian-clad singers has hired itself out to raise money for the symphonic choir we...
Whimsy
Dem Bones, Dem Bones, Dem Dry Bones
. . . Now hear the word of the Lord. Pope Frances dusted off the bones of Saint Peter just lately and hauled them out for public veneration in a cloud of incense, which probably made them smell better. With a similar gesture, Husband just threw applewood chips on...
Stand By Your Boob
Give him two arms to cling to And something warm to come to When nights are cold and lonely In other words, offer him “plenty to eat at home.” The first lady of Toronto stood stoically by her man on Friday, after Mayor Rob Ford managed to shock a...
A Porch to Pee On
The pissing contest in Washington has left me with a particularly pointed case of penis envy. Now, I’ve never actually wanted a penis, per se. Women learn early on that those appendages are readily available for loan should one ever be needed. What I envy about the penis is...
Oh, Sweet Buttermilk Jesus!
Fish of Girlfriend of Son #1 is still with us, despite apparent depression, fin-rot and neglect. I felt sorry for him this weekend and (once again) changed his water. He sits in my living room, after all – bad Feng Shui to have the slow-motion death of an ailing...