In the News

 

There are many, many ways, side is only one of them.  It wouldn’t surprise me to one day discover an English professor had run amuck and with a high-powered rifle and was shooting dictionaries.

 

Words all over the campus, running scared, screaming in panic.  Verbs taking to the sky, seeking shelter in the trees.  Nouns standing perfectly still, as if statues, too scared to move.  A stack of thesauri huddled beneath the overpass, wishing they could be something else.
Due to insufficient room beneath the overpass, a lone dictionary stood out in the open, unabridged. 

 

Campus police, searching for the shooter, eventually found him at Witt’s End, the campus bookstore.  Taking him into custody went without incident.  The professor, noticing his shoes were Oxfords, shot himself in the foot.

 

 

 

It's Because They're Smart

 

        When I ask myself why our leaders are not the scholars, the people who were at the top of their class, the answer rises to the surface.  It is because they are smart enough to not put themselves in that position.  They know better.  They can see the greed and corruption from a mile away, so why subject themselves and their families to that environment, however unfortunate for the rest of us.

        It was only a matter of time.  Spending years writing on this Blog that a small droplet of rage leak through my pen.  This was never intended as a platform for me to spout my opinions, or grouse  about the status quo.  I saw it only as a playground, a place where verbs could run free and adjectives swing higher and higher, until the entire valley came into view, even if only briefly.  However, as you see, I have teetered without tottering.   My dialog has become one-sided.  The cat has used the sandbox for other purposes.   For that, I apologize.  I will turn this off and return only when my creative juices once again flow.

        ZC

 

 

 

Chasing Headlines

 

For journalists, bad news is an addiction.  They are drawn to it and are powerless against its lure. They are animals feeding on the steaming carcass of humanity.  Scavengers of dignity gnawing on fresh grief, all the while insuring they do not use the salad fork by mistake, for they are professionals.

 

 

 

The day the animals ran track at the high school

 

The hippos were incredibly fast but knocked over every hurdle.

 

The gazelles were leaps and bounds faster than the squirrels who kept changing direction.

 

The Giraffes were neck and neck but only with each other.

 

The mules refused to run, and the turtles haven’t yet crossed the finish line.

 

The cheetahs were disqualified.

 

The bears seemed to have difficulty getting around the elephants, who turned out to be lane hogs.

One snake stretched across the lanes pretending he was the finish line.  It didn't end well.

 

 The track was temporarily closed for cleaning. 

 

Just my Luck

 

Go Figure...

 

they didn't buy it.

It's good I don't know

 

How many Mondays will I get in my life?  How many sick days or snow days?  How many awards or trophies will I win?  How many beers will I drink?   How many close calls will I have?  How close to the edge will I get before someone pulls me back?

 

Do I thank them or charge them overtime?