It’s late September and I should be back at school…no, wait! That’s prehistoric Rod Stewart. No doubt many of you have nevvvverrrr even heard of him. He had lots of hits in the seventies and eighties. He had (has?) a vocal style unparalleled, with the exception of one Bob Dylan. How a monotone draws and inspires millions of people for almost forty years now, escapes me. But I like him! Oh, back to the meat of tonight’s post. Because you asked. Or I just assumed you did.

So…it is nigh time
with silly rhyme
to introduce to you
some characters of mine.

Oh, before we get started on meeting my peeps of the NewYarns (yes! there may be more than one new yarn, after all) I just have to tell those of you from points north, east, and west, that we of Southern persuasion can be indeed articulate in the speech and composition departments; we don’t chew on a hay stalk, stick, whatever that thing is, as is duly depicted in the media time and time again; we don’t lynch or have slaves (with the exception of our children, hee hee); and I could go on and on with the stereotype, but you get the idea. On the other hand, I DO say “I’m fixing to…” and I will do something “directly,” and my lunchtime is either “lunch” or “dinner,” and my dinner is “supper.” I DO like good Southern cookin’ (but we are trying to watch our weight around here and have quit frying almost everything EXCEPT good ol’ catfish, which is plenteous here, and the best eatin’ (oh, we DO drop our g’s for the most part–don’t want anything dangling, especially participles, but certainly cannot tolerate “ing” in most cases).

This IS the Bible belt, and for that I’m glad. I am not ashamed to proclaim! God is my Father, and His Son Jesus Christ is the way, the truth, and the life. I am, however, tolerant of others’ beliefs unless you try to kill and eat me, or you ram planes into buildings, or you burn folks at the stake and such as that.

Now to the intros (I know, I know, these characters are waiting in the wings and getting quite bored and starting to hit or hit on one another AND I suspect you are doing the same. Except the latter. I expect you will behave and conduct yourself as a proper Southern lady would expect. I am in control, however, of the boredom factor and I will do my best to eliminate, or at least tremendously lessen, that egregious emotion. Yawn. I do not want you to x me off and never come back to visit and see what colorful characters I have in store for you, and their story lines, plots, climaxes — not that kind! — and antitheses … boy do I use a lot of words that I have absolutely no idea what they mean. Every good blogger/writer/journalist et. al. has a good whatsit? The big book of words. No, not the phone book. Oh, yes. The dictionary. Excuse me for a moment while I go get mine.)

Okay, back to business! Before the introduction of just a couple of the characters lest you grow weary (is bored a synonym? I don’t think so. You might be *gasp* BOTH!). So I will step up the syntax here. Not to be confused with sin tax, which I will never have to pay, by the way. No Rolls Royce here at my humble abode. But here is a little something for you:

“One bright day in the middle of the night, two dead boys got up to fight. Back-to-back they faced each other, drew their swords and shot each other. A deaf policeman heard this noise, came and arrested the two dead boys. If you don’t believe this lie is true, go ask the blind man. He saw it too.” I don’t know the author of this sillyism, else I would give credit.

So COME TO CENTER STAGE, THE FIRST TWO CHARACTERS IN LINE OVER THERE!
I daresay at this point that I will never, ever say “Put your hands together for…” That has become so cliched, overused, outdated, whatever. I bid you, no clapping or somersaulting (is that how it is spelled? I was just kidding; I didn’t go get the dictionary. Not yet, anyway.)

Oh, and ONE MORE THING—we use the honor system around here, so please don’t steal my stuff. I don’t want to see it elsewhere on the Internet. This is strictly for your enjoyment, if you will, and copyright infringements are big business for lawyers! Eww. Did I just SAY that? Just a reminder. Pweeze!

Meet ARTIS (ART) BRUSH. He is a retired Navel Officer. Don’t know what he did in the Navy, but now he spends a few days a week volunteering in hospital operating rooms, gowned and gloved and all sterile-like, and assists surgeons with tummy-tucks. He stands at attention throughout the procedure, until it’s time for the surgeon to cry out, “It’s time to move the navel!” Art then springs into action! He tells the surgeon exactly where to put the patient’s navel. Why the doctors cannot do it themselves, I don’t know. But they depend on Art, and he has never been wrong about the location of navels. I guess that’s why he was a “Navel Officer.” At least that’s what he tells everybody. So if you know someone who has had a tummy tuck and their navel is displaced or misplaced, it’s a sure bet that Art wasn’t there. You might think that he paints in his spare time. You would be right.

Let’s meet VENDETTA RACHELLE FREEMAN. You are getting sleepy…sleepy…watch the fob or is it fob the watch….we will talk more about VENDETTA in our next entry, coming soon.

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surprise!

It’s a crazy spider surprise lily that popped up this week! Wacky!

Okay, test post is over now. xoxo