And updated...
Charleston gratitude and overdue update
I've been good about keeping things updated over on my website, but not as successful in updating this dear old blog. Many apologi...
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I've been good about keeping things updated over on my website, but not as successful in updating this dear old blog. Many apologi... -
Are there certain things that you will never do in a poem, either intentionally or unintentionally? Are there things that you won't wri... -
I don't think I'm alone in saying that poets are often the most in love with their current work. At least that's the case w...
6 comments:
Now that's realistic. I hope he stops there with lots of loot for ya!
I have the aftermath photo--no beer left, all fig newtons gone. Not a surprise around here... :)
I think this is sorta Western PA style, as well!
Hope you had a wonderful holiday.
Karen: heck yeah! :)
LOL!
Fr. V
But can you imagine the headache Santa will have the day after Christmas, with all those brewskis he'll have to drink?
And before the headache, the misery of slogging through the labor of sliding down and up chimneys with everything spinning around him, his jelly belly wanting to upchuck all that beer as he struggles to get the gifts under each tree neatly?
Surely some kids will find a nasty pool of stomach goo under the tree Christmas morning, you know?
Poor Santa, work done, back at the North Pole, on the ratty red and green couch. Mrs. Claus draping a warm wet washcloth over his eyes. "I told you only a sip each time, dear."
The reindeer standing around looking glum, their breath steaming up the living room. Rudolph flashing his nose on and off, on and off.
The elves running around yelling and carrying on before they have to buckle down and produce all those toys for next year. "Quiet out there, children! Santa's indisposed," Mrs. Claus says as she turns out the light in the living room.
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