Thursday, August 25, 2011

"So, what can the Pexident droo?"

Got me, Hercule. I suppose he can come out on the parapet one more night, and wonder aloud about what he might or might not really care about, unless it bothers anybody, of course.

I know, Auguste. Remember how he shafted Single Payer, in the same breath when he admired it?

                       Ah, but a fellow of in-
                       finite jest, Hercule, of
                       most excellent fancy. He 
                       hath bore me on his
                       back a thousand times,
                       and now how abhorr'd in
                       my imagination it is.

         Enough of that, now,
         gentlemen ~ you're
         supposed to be napping!

         [Memo to staff: No more
         unsupervised Shakespeare].


  1. Ah... but papa how are we supposed to sleep... when not Our frolicks... but Mama Natures 'belly dancer' like, jives and gyrations doth Toss us from our sleep!

  2. I suppose it beats obaminsomnia, that sinking sensation of treachery in the boxspring of a Presidential promise :)

    Hercule + Auguste have no common father, which is shrewd of them, to spread that risk. I should have introduced them properly; they are something of a Greek chorus here, sparing us opprobrium for redundancy and standing in for the stakeholder-community, the living and the growing. The nosy English major is not a parent but is in loco parentis, as in a summer camp. I'm not sure if he will have a life of his own, apart from Hercule + Auguste ...