***Just A Note***

But halfway through the missing fortnight’s musings, Mistress Yassy, but I expect Monday to happen soon enough and will “be back in harness” and this time try to do some Press-Surfing to see what pals hath wrought as well.  Got to go over to the lakefront to catch the three-bell ceremony for lost – long and soon – veterans.  Then I will go punish the rocking chair with spilled beer and drippings of boston butt burritos.

“His Lips Are Moving”

A politician

who claims “Everyone Now Knows*”

is telling a lie!


  • (In the other version, published in “Outrages” sub-blog it reads in the second line: “Who claims “Everyone Agrees” and I liked that very much but when first transcribed I thought the poem might be offensive to some so I pulled it from richwrapper and put it in “Commentary, Outrages…” and when I finished typing though: dang! Doesn’t offend me! So here are both! in both blogs. Suffer, thou elected!)

“Every Generation”

Every twenty years

college kids will kill themselves*

proving ‘they belong’!


  • (News of Florida State University fraternity pledge dead from drink causes a temporary shutdown to determine why. Why? We already know some of the answers – and the questions all are too obvious.  It’s what some kids will risk to join a privileged gang – call it fraternity, sorority, crips or bloods, or even possibly Olympic Swim Teams or something equally stupid.)


“Get A Charge?”

Wanna get a ‘charge?’

Lose both ‘fave’ hats AND glasses!

‘Polish’ Land Mine Drill*!


  • (I ask pardon – but eschew excuses: the term has long lineage in U.  S. Marine Corps lexicon – the sensitive might fine the slur on the brave first-defenders against both Naziism and Communism whose regard I hold so very high: but in times of mine own brush with war, crossing a minefied I saw a South Korean Marine Corps unit put its most junior men on-line, relieved them of their firearms and ammunition and let them walk a good number of distinct lines through the mine field as ‘Their Betters’ followed in strict trace, putting each foot in the shell of its previous owner…and this time the tactic worked: scared privates detoured not and paid strict attention to their “ground” and the old hands wavered not in pursuit.  And the old hands welcomed each and every private and took those worthies pack off and offered them water and snacks from their own.  Thus they chanced the trial and became comrades. Amazing to see from my safe perch on the far side.  And, no, I did not do that walk myself.  Besides, I did not want to share the beer hiding inside my pack.)