See, with dames, it’s like this.
Say a dame walks into a room. Your head turns. You don’t even turn it, it turns by itself, like a sunflower seeking the sun.
Do even dames understand dames? Probably not. Does God? Probably; but perhaps even He sometimes murmurs, “What - Have - I - Wrought ??? ”
Which (bellows the world) is cuter? ? ???
-- Whoa! You think I’m stupid? Man -- no way I’m wading into this one.
You got fanatics on both sides. Some shout “Bunnies!”, and some shout “Hamsters!” -- both sides waving pitchforks.
Me? I simply say:
Bunnies: O so cute.
Hamsters: Way way cute.
Comparisons are odious.
God made the both of ‘em -- Let God sort it out.
----------------------------
Murphyburger®
Ingredients:
(1) burger
(2) bun
You’re done!
---------------------------------
Olde-Countree-Stylee Pizza
Ingredients:
One (1) medium telephone
One (1) takeout menu
Call; order a Large; enjoy!
As Murphy grew older and older, people grew more and more kind.
At Rosie’s Luncheonette, where the Blue Plate Special vied with the Businessman’s Lunch, as the biggest seller and most profitable item respectively, Rosie now implemented the Detective Special, For P.I.s Only: a modest meal for a price that was beyond all modesty: for everyone know that the aging shamus had seldom two red cents to rub together. It was her least profitable item (operating break-even, so Rosie said; though everyone assumed it was at a loss), and her slightest seller (having a customer base of exactly one). It was priced at a dime, though Murphy always left a quarter, claiming that he had no other change.
Look -- it was all a big misunderstanding, okay? Matter fact -- never did understand the thing myself. But hey, bygones be bygones, alright? Pint of bitter under the bridge.
Yeahh… Busy little critters… “Busy as a beaver,” like the man says.
And there’s a lesson in this, for all of us. Namely:
If you’re an aquatic creature with a broad flat tail, and big buck teeth, you really should build dams.
So there’s this guy, at like this site, who keeps steering traffic this way. What’s that about?
So I dropped in on him unannounced, at his Fortress of Solitude. Had to rough him up a bit, but pretty soon he came clean. Turns out he’s okay. Goes by the handle of Doctor J. Talks so you can’t half understand him, but he’s straight up on the big stuff: Holy Spirit; Free Will; Sacramental nature of marriage. So I’ll return the favor -- check it out:
Murphy knows he is not qualified, to comment on a woman’s voice.
If he had figured that one out,
-- he would be no longer with us.
=> :
He would be walking on air,
with stars in his hair,
hands in the clouds,
laughing out loud
Hello folks, this is a Personal Communication from your favorite wise-cracking two-fisted shamus. Notice the Mailbag feature, running in the margin on the left (or, if you are logging in from a universe made of antimatter, on the right). Real people write in with their hopes… their dreams… occasionally enclosing cash (this is encouraged); and every single letter receives a prompt and courteous reply. Anyhow a reply.
You are encouraged to participate! If you can’t think of anything (positive) to say, just send the cash! And best of all -- there’s a Swell Contest going on, for the best Letter of the Month. If you win -- you’ll be the winner! The prize is the warm, gooey satisfaction you get when you can pat yourself on the back (an awkward gesture, but it can be done) for having given the mostest of your bestest. And in this economy, that’s about as good as it gets.
“Thermo-dynamics?!?!! What -- you kidding me? ‘Thermo’, I get that; like thermometer, or thermal underwear. Like, Hot enough 4 U?, ha ha. But thermo….dynamics… that would be like the dynamics of heat. Which is like saying, the dynamics of space, or the dynamics of time. What would that mean?”
Murphy fell silent, and grew thoughtful.
“But it’s real, you’re saying. There really is a dynamics of all that.”
A kind of longing; a kind of sadness.
“There really is a lot out there that I don’t know.”
Murphy Considers his Sins
Man, I really tied one on last night. Might’ve done some things I’ll be sorry for later. Only, how can I be sorry if I don’t remember what I did? Jeez, I better write this stuff down.
Lingua Sacra is pleased to announce the following series of volumes, written by Mr. Michael Murphy, and edited by a prestigious ivy-league type with a Ph.D. after his name:
My Sins, by Murphy.
Volume I: The Early Years.
Volume VIII: That Time in Chicago.
Volume XXVII: Just Last Week.
[From: I Don’t Do Divorce Cases]
