Like the paparazzi snapping blackmail pics.
Monday, August 18, 2014
Cat's In The Uncomfortable Unfinished Wooden Cradle
Sometimes, when Monday is over, I just wanna do this:
In a recliner, of course. I'm no savage. No need to risk splinters in my spine. Besides, two-by-fours are not all that cushy. But I would really like to let it all hang out like, not a care in the world, oblivious to what goes on around me.
Like the paparazzi snapping blackmail pics.
Like the paparazzi snapping blackmail pics.
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4 comments:
HM--Harry Chapin? One of my favorites! (However, that was not one of my favorite songs of his.)
Today I lolled around at the house all day. The start of school delayed AGAIN. Will I go to work tomorrow?
We'll see...
Sioux,
Well, Madam, I trust you will be making those days up come the buttcrack of summer...at my count, you are up to SEVEN days owed by Monday.
Why do I want to call him Harry Chapin Carpenter? Oh. I like HER songs better.
Perhaps that is because you only know what was on the radio?
Are you familiar with the song by Chapin, "30,000 Pounds of Bananas"?
"The Mayor of Cantor Lied"?
The song about the laundry guy who had an operatic voice (I forgot the title)?
Karen Carpenter had a beautiful, quite distinctive voice...but a songwriter, she was not. Harry Chapin had a rough voice, but could pen a ballad that would make you weep...and put on the best concerts.
Sioux,
I am not familiar with those songs. They make me think that I might find 30,000 pounds of banana skins in the La-Z-Boy, and about that little munchkin guy in The Wizard of Oz.
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