The Virtue Of The Vague

De winds o change do be
A luxurious breeze or a brain freeze
De truth eeees
All memories are vague
It is a matter of degrees.

Dis poem eeees indeed
Not heaven sent
Nor is memory
A precision instrument



As the crow flies As this blog progresses, Carl Hobbes is the braintrust
of The Lewis Carroll School of Logic.
His comment regarding what you just read:
"Paul, I think you've been reading too much Ring Lardner."

While its older brother is alive and well, my four-year-old Kodak camera (or its memory card) is ready for the graveyard.
If the younger Kodak is laid to rest in The Museum of Moi, I will quote Madonna.

Don't cry for me, Argentina

1-2-3-4-5...

...It didn't happen...

I mean, I quoted Madonna and wasn't reduced to salt.

Why? Do you not like Madonna?

I do like the idea that she wore a rosary bead as a necklace but YES: I do not like her music.
All I will say about it is that if it weren't for late Twentieth Century MTV, she would be flipping flapjacks, somewhere on Long Island.

That is not entirely true: her publicity department is nothing short of brilliant.
If their talent was musical instead of promotional they would be Beethoven.

***********************************

Rodney Dangerfield's club is still alive and well despite that not being true for Rodney.

You can never read too much Ring Lardner

Nor can you stop laughing at Richard Guindon's comic strip

Nor should you ignore the music of Willie Nile



Blogger's Note
The home in which I live is also known as "The Museum of Moi"
and the life I have lived is up on its walls.