Frog Applause by Teresa Burritt for September 29, 2018

“And what about you?” I said, “You pick up the goody bags and ride off into the sunset? Take over his little empire for yourself?” He just stands there looking at me. He says, “You really are a happy little dark cloud, aren’t you? You just float around above it all, unaware of what goes on, down on the ground. You rain on things because that’s just what you do. There really isn’t any more thought or motive to it than that, is there? His empire is gone. He took it with him. His full memoir goes public if he doesn’t log into the right network and provide the right passkey every seventy-two hours. It was an insurance policy, and leverage. Sure, full disclosure is going to clear me of all suspicion. But this place, his holdings, his accounts? It all goes to charities no matter how he goes, to keep me with no incentive to knock him off. He logged on this morning. In three days, the mic drops and the world turns upside down. If you’ve got investments, you might want to move them to really safe stocks or securities, if you get released in time. Because there will be corrections. He had friends in all the right places.”

Another secret message from the mistress to decode.

Wilson’s disease is a rare inherited disorder that causes copper to accumulate in your liver, brain and other vital organs.

that’s as far as I’ve got

You, you, have been in the business of scrutinizing for so long….. well you know.

Is this Descartes’ wax, the essence of which can only be grasped through pure reason?

“Teresa Bursomething, the Hermann Rorschach of cartoonistry.”

Today’s resolution: I will search the web for a random word generator.

Detached curiosity: is it actually less intense? Or just more urbane? You decide for yourself, and then feel free to follow the landscapes of knees, navels, heels, and toes. They are randomly vomited out, I hear from a reliable source.

Sometimes I think I know just how 3hourtour feels, like I just wasted a precious minute of everyone’s time.

Can’t wax ’til wane stops and looks over his shoulder at me.

Love the art in this piece.

If a million monkeys with a million scrabble tiles…

Wax On, Wax Off

Knee landscapes brings up a picture of a man mowing the lawn on his knees.

Child hood dreams and stranger things.

What is the capital of Vuvuzela …? Sometimes l Caracas myself up ….

Someone needs to invent the Didgeridoovuzela.

Wax on, wax off Rocinante, what quixotic wind is tilting your sails?

The vuvuzela is a local South African tradition, that should stayed local.

Were it not for copyright issues I would adopt this as my calling card.

A hoarse is a hoarse, of coarse of coarse..

Horses are a peripatetic breed.

Wax on, wax off!

Ken Nordine did it to cool music.

Lawrence Ferlinghetti wrote it under City Lights.

But it is a nice word salad; just needs a little spicy dressing, I think.

Lame on, Sister T.!

..of course of course, a horse is a horsE