circuswater

Sunday, December 31, 2017

The poets have muddied all the little fountains.
Yet do not my strong eyes know you, far house?...
Antara, 6th century.

Thunderbox: All my life things have been what they have been. I thought I was on top of the world when my boss over at the Church Cake Sale Management Company put me in charge of measuring kitchen tables: But never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that I would become the junior assistant to the assistant of the assistant president of The Miniature Cattle Display Club here in Spiderbone Illinois. It's as if I was drinking a Rob Roy with Roy Clark or hailing a cab for Haley Mills or...dang, I had another one, but it slipped my mind. But anyway my recent appointment has made me the toast-of-the-town in a town where toasting is not an activity to be taken lightly. It seems like just days ago I was living in the boiler room at the Moose Lodge. Now I'm living in the laundry room of a swell apartment building. Things just always seem to work out good for me. Who knows, someday I might own a bait shop or become a camp host! Oh yeah...now I remember, or like tossing a beach ball with Lucille Ball.

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