
It's not the book that's funny, it's tragic. But the author's name, now...
And yes, it's a genuine book!
Merci, Mlle. Carnivereaux! (Yes I know that's not correct, but it sounds and looks better. Poursuivez-moi.)
A Deerhound loyalist who spends the unmoored time irritating felons. My whole life is a losing insurgency!
No, pervert. I mean pictures used to advertise training about catching people who assault old people. My littermate brought this to my attention:
But this is creepy. What, are those the raped and fondled grandmothers' descendants? Then why are they happy? SO happy.
Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled to be an orphan. But if even my dam was assaulted, I'd at least be angry!
If you hurry, you can still get a Preakness bet down on Barbaro!
The stupidest investor I ever met didn't buy things AFTER they were already worthless.
If you haven’t seen “United 93”, rent it and watch. Use a big screen and turn off the telephones so you won’t be disturbed.
Truly an amazing experience. If I owned a theater, it would be on the screen all day and night today, no ticket charge. Like the French theater that ran "Mr. Smith Goes To ashington" the last week before the Germans showed to occupy in 1940.
United 93 ought to be our focus in these memorials. It’s odd and not very old-time American that we concentrate on the people in the buildings- who were just at work- and the professional rescuers. What happened to them was awful, the rescuers were heroes, and I can’t think of them without tearing up.
But the people on 93 were different. They, random ordinary Americans, in the space of half an hour discarded false hope, organised, decided what to do, stood up to our enemies, and sacrificed their own lives to protect others and themselves. They weren’t trained or paid to do it. It wasn’t expected of them- in fact, passive obedience was what they were trained to exhibit. They were supposed to be victims, like the people in the other planes and in the buildings.
They didn’t default to that training.
They defaulted to Lexington and Concord.
We ought to take "In God We Trust" off the currency, and put on it "United 93, motherf*cker!"
And if you haven't teared up today:
Back when Cleveland was President and Victoria Queen, my great aunt Augusta was a little girl. Her father's city house in Wilmington was like the other big places there- the front was display, out back there was a yard surrounded by a high board fence. In the yard were the wash house, privy for the staff, and those sorts of things.
And the chickens.
Aunt Augusta's older brother made the mistake of naming them, and one was yclept for his baby sister.
The day came, and Jerusalem the cook went out back to do the deed. Unfortunately Brother- yes, that's what they called him- saw, and out he went to obstruct dinner.
"No, Jerusalem! Don't kill Augusta! Please don't kill Augusta! Put down that axe! No, No!"
"Mas' Brother, Augusta's time is come! You get back in that house and be quiet, or I'll take this hatchet to you when I've finished with her!"
Unknown to either of them, some one was passing near the back fence, heard the exchange, and ran off to summon a policeman.
Jerusalem completed the task, and hung the bird to drain. Then she went back toward the pump...
The policeman ran back, burst in the gate, and saw a large Black woman approaching him with bloody hands and hatchet...
Fortunately it was 1895 and not 1995, so everyone had time to explain!
Thank you Tam, for reminding me of this story!
I liked these programs. Television isn't ENTIRELY a stupidity machine.