Frog Applause by Teresa Burritt for November 30, 2022

Mmm bacon…

Everything is better with bacon, especially repressed anger. Every emotion or state of agitation has it’s complementary food.

For guilt and shame, try cheesy puffs.

For paranoia, fried pickle chips and sour cream.

For condemnation and persecution, Hawaiian pizza works wonders.

For rejection, a good old fashion hot fudge sundae. Don’t forget the nuts!

For existential angst, an extra large corn dog, with that special sauce they only sell at the roach coach out behind the Bathmat Factory effluent processing shed.

Christine McVie, Fleetwood Mac singer-songwriter, dies at 79

RIP Aline Kominsky Crumb, wife of Robert, mother of Sophie, and a talented storyteller.

It’s not good to bottle up your bacon bits. Let them fly!

After a pause of several beats, several too many, if we are being honest, Violet began again. "And now you are looking at it directly. Life as a finite state, achieved. I imagine you would like to add something, or protest. You are unable, one should imagine. A thing that is real only in a remote sense, is suddenly all too immediate and defying all rational awareness. I have given you that push, which forces you to confront a reality, against which you cannot stand. This has left you unable to act or respond in any way. That is the thing that has affected you, and which you cannot accept and overcome. You are confining yourself to a rational state of being, though confronted by an unfair and irrational state of existence, a nihilistic objective rejection of life itself as meaningless and mechanistic. It will be necessary for you to let go of your part of what was lost, and allow it to fall to others, to nourish your relationships and renew your connection to your reality.

When bacon bits ruled a salad bar. Meat, Meat.

Nothing worse than fake bacon bits. It’s hard to trust food anymore. “Cheese food product” WTH!

…boy, someone has been reading my journal…

…I get this all the time…

…except without bacon bits…

…the more people get to know me the less they seem to like me…

…oh, wait…

…reverse that…

…but do you like like like me?…the way I like like you?…

When monkeies bowl.

It’s always when we’re swinging, isn’t it?, that these realizations come to us. I wonder if it has to do with blood being forced into the brainstem.

So, as we can see, she’s a swinging anger management revisionist!

And Doggie ain’t no dummy, neither!

Anyone else remember your first time swinging as high as you could and the chains jerked …?

( what a thrill )