It has not escaped me that I have a somewhat profuse forehead. Or rather, a fivehead. The “high forehead” was thought to be much attractive in the 15th through 16th centuries, when wealthy gentleladies plucked their way to highbrowed beauty. Admirers took note of the greater brainpan and refined intelligence. (“My, my. Look at thee fo’ead on that one. Hubba hubba.”) Alas, today we no longer live in the Middle Ages, those pox-filled days of easy beauty. Those of us left behind, showing proof of high intelligence as we do, need to make do. So.... One day, a dame with a dome has a bright idea: Advertising Revenue. Then an even better, more refined idea: But a genius idea needs geniuses to buy into it. That’s where you come in. For example, say you’re an overpaid advertising executive. You’re gearing up to promote a dentist, electronics giant, and/or hemorrhoid creme. Or household goods and Sea-Monkeys. I don’t need to explain to you the...
Love the online version of The New York Times . Love, love, love it. However—and this has a big capital H, followed by a long pause wherein I don’t type—however, a recent mailing they sent caused me to heartedly question our future together. First off let me share with you that I am grateful every time I peruse their online edition, and have been for more than five years. There is no paper to unfold and fold, no ink smearing my fingertips, no yellowing newsprint stored in my recycle bin, and no trudging said paper off to the Duxbury town dump. (I don’t abide calling it a “transfer station.” “Dump” gets us where we need to go 75% quicker.) Most enjoyable, though, is not having to pick through murders and robberies and other garbage to find my science and health news. Unlike the printed paper, online I see only headlines and snippets until I click a specific article that I choose to read. This makes for less junk going to my subconscious. I keep a clean mind, see. So, I’m reading th...
Hey. You know how it snowed? And there was snow on your car? Well I’ve got a surprise for you. It‘s not any more! I know. Let’s jump up and down. How’d the magic happen, right? Well I went outside in the cold and cleaned it off. You're very welcome, my pleasure, no trouble at all. I almost enjoyed being outside in the fresh air. Anything for you. Oh, by the way. Just a small thing. In the future, maybe after the rainy season, you may see a tiny bit of rust. Like a line of it here and there. Mostly on top of the car but also on the hood and trunk areas. Roughly where snow would be if your good friend here hadn’t cleaned it off wayyyy back in winter. Brrrrrrr, right? Gosh it‘s cold. From the shovel scratches, silly. You shovel snow, you don’t kiss it away. I was shoveling the sidewalk and the next thing you know I was being helpful to you. Steel-bladed shovels work great! Yeah, let’s go see how great it looks. Look there. Isn’t that friendly, that one almost says “Hi!”
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