Now, the piece is 159 words long. I've trimmed about as much fat as I can. It's like the Angelina Jolie of Christmas memory pieces now. I just e-mailed the revised version to the editor. We'll see what he thinks. If he doesn't take it now, I can live with that. I've done my best.
My next writing project is my annual Christmas poem. I've given it a little thought. Very little. I have a vague notion of my subject. That's about it. That notion is so vague it's practically non-existent. I guess I have to get some Christmas music cranked and get to work. Decking them similes. Stringing them metaphors. Hanging them shining images. Fa-la-la-la-la.
This evening, I have a simple question for my Web dip:
Will the year 2015 be better than the year 2014 for me?
And the answer from the pig and the spider is:
"Did you have a good time at the Fair?" [Mrs. Arable] asked as she kissed her daughter.
Fern nodded. "I had the best time I have ever had anywhere or any time in all of my whole life."
I will take that answer. I am going to have the best time I have ever had anywhere or any time in all of my whole life in 2015.
Saint Marty hopes he doesn't have to ride the Ferris wheel with Henry Fussy.
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You tell 'em, Steve-O |
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