Summer Stuff
2002-07-03 10:37 a.m.

Hoo-haw! What fun I had last night!

We descended on Colin-G (see him for excellent fake IDs) and The Bookgirl to admire sweet baby Marcus and frolic a bit with the Zack. Got my baby fix for a few days, and had a nice chat with grown-ups.

Today, I am under surveillance. My nephew Cisco will not let me out of his sight. He's a sweet doggie, and understands English well, but he farts. A lot. If we were keeping him, I'd change his food. As it is, we'll let Dad deal with it once we get him to Mississippi.

Reading the paper today, I saw an editorial on the Healthy Penis campaign in San Francisco, featuring large photos of a syphilitic dick posted in bus shelters. Apparently, this rivals the animated syphilis sore used in a public-health promotion in LA. (They have a squeaky toy, too.) Gotta wonder-how difficult is it to take a look at Mr. Happy and decide that he needs a little maintenance before he's granted entry? I don't think I'd need illustrated warnings!

Finally, some things I expect to hear in Mi'sippy:

"That corn's burnt up." (drought)

"Lookee at the cotton!"

"I blame the casinos."(For everything, drought, poor cotton harvest, Bill Clinton...in Mi'sippy, the only requirement for a casino is that it float. Big employers, but they don't help the local economy much.)

"He's from up yonder." (i.e. a Yankee)

"Girl, put some lipstick on!"

On the Headbone: I Am A Man of Constant Sorrow, the Soggy Bottom Boys. Try singing it with the lyrics to the Mickey Mouse Club song, Amazing Grace, or any Emily Dickinson poem. They're all ballad stanza, according to my marvelously clever and demented husband.

Booooook:The Skies of Pern, Anne McCaffrey--trashy sci-fantasy fun. It's summer, okay? And it ain't safe to read Hemingway or Joyce in Mi'sippy,'cause folks'll think you're a damnyankee.

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