So simple… so quiet… so inviting… but alas…
I have promises to keep…
and pumpkin pies to eat… before I sleep.
Tag: paintings
“Somewhere a dog barked”
They say dogs bark when they see a spirit, and they can sense when a person has died. But I’ve never seen a spirit, even when I was standing next to a barking dog. I wonder what else I’m missing?
“Blurtso considers more than usual”
There sure are a lot of ads during the holiday season, said Blurtso. Yes, said Harlan, even more than usual. You wouldn’t think it was possible, said Blurtso, for the advertisers to make people even greedier.
“Blurtso captures a dream” (V)
O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!
“Blurtso captures a dream” (IV)
I call it, “Jeune âne rougissante,” said Blurtso. It’s lovely, said Harlan, does she have any elephant friends?
“Blurtso captures a dream” (III)
It’s called, “Jeune âne avec chien,” said Blurtso. How do you know she likes dogs? said Harlan. She must, said Blurtso, just look at her.
“Blurtso captures a dream” (II)
“Jeune âne au bain.”
“Blurtso captures a dream” (I)
It’s warmer today, said Harlan. Yes, said Blurtso. You don’t look very good, said Harlan, what have you been doing? I’ve been painting, said Blurtso. Painting? said Harlan. Yes, said Blurtso, I saw Lizzy again, and I think she should be immortalized like the models of Renoir.
I call it, “Jeune âne au piano.”
“Blurtso and the books” (III)
“Welcome to tonight’s roundtable discussion sponsored by ‘The Campus Institute of Political Seriousness for Enhanced Living in an Unenhanced World.’ I’m your host, Jonathan Wellborn Truington III, and joining us this evening is Mr. Blurtso Lundif, a former diversity fellow at Harvard College who has come to speak about his new novel.
“As I recall, Mr. Lundif, the last time we visited you were making a name for yourself by standing in the snow.”
“Yes,” said Blurtso.
“Perhaps you could describe your novel. What’s it about?”
“It’s about an eighteenth-century pirate donkey,” said Blurtso, “who sails the Mediterranean in search of fortune and fame.”
“I see,” said Mr. Truington, “and why does he stand in the snow?”
“He doesn’t,” said Blurtso.
“He doesn’t?” said Mr. Truington.
“No,” said Blurtso.
“Then what is so special about him?”
“He’s an eighteenth-century pirate donkey,” said Blurtso, “who sails the Mediterranean in search of fortune and fame.”
“Does he give the booty he steals to the poor?”
“No,” said Blurtso.
“Does he help overthrow the tyrannical king, Louis XVI of France?”
“No,” said Blurtso.
“Does he choose a female donkey as his first mate, and promote feminist reform in the equine world?”
“No,” said Blurtso.
“Does he give his life to a cause greater than himself, discover a cure for cancer or found a new religion?
“No,” said Blurtso.
“Then why,” said Mr. Truington, “should anyone buy your book?”
“They shouldn’t,” said Blurtso.
“They shouldn’t?” said Mr. Truington.
“No,” said Blurtso.
“Why not?” said Mr. Truington.
“Because,” said Blurtso, “people shouldn’t buy things they don’t really need.”
“I see,” said Mr. Truington. “Well, ladies and gentlemen, there you have it. Thank you, Mr. Lundif, for taking time out of your busy schedule to speak to us about your extraordinarily uneventful novel. I’m sure the audience will join me in wishing you well in your future endeavors, and in hoping that your second novel will be more interesting than your first.”
“Blurtso and the books” (II)
Wow, thought Blurtso, counting the twenty Patrick O’Brian novels I have, and my copy of Leaves of Grass, I now have a library of 5,021 volumes… five thousand of which I wrote myself.