I mean the guy is a Red Sox fan. And he eats pizza with a fork.
Winter is here.
Michaleen Flynn: No patty-fingers, if you please. The proprieties at all times. Hold on to your hats
Michaleen Flynn: No patty-fingers, if you please. The proprieties at all times. Hold on to your hats
I saw that - what a poser.
ReplyDeleteI guess both he and his wife are gay.
ReplyDeleteI see that pizza board behind de Blasio as giving him the finger.
ReplyDeleteI called him a dweeb on tweeter.
ReplyDeleteI called him a twit on Dweeber.
ReplyDeleteAll forked up! For those who already think I'm barmy, forks are the theme of the day, from dinner to pitch. Synchronicity can appear to be as capricious as a bitch and as calculated as a bastard, but all in all, its part of the whole confusing and delightful experience of greater consciousness!
ReplyDeleteFrom little acorns grow mighty oaks! Here's the oddness I find difficult to reconcile, right here in a nutshell:
Back on the Acorn/Farmer thread at Lem's, (Jan 7) a comment showed up that sounded very much like a request for an Amy's Garden post. To my ears, this: I need a guest post about a strange warren and a lady who thought the gay question was settled law, sounds like a request for blog fertilizer and/or seeds of contention in some form or another, one that could involve shit stirring if not a round with the mature spreader.
In contrast to that, this oil-on-the-water nicety regarding shit shooting appeared soon after (Jan 8): It would be nice if one of these days he (Meade) could stop by and shoot the shit, and those who don't care for him could remain silent, and try and let by-gones be by-gones.
After which, a surprise no-comment resignation post was tendered, arriving like an unexpected spaceship from somewhere out in the wild blue yonder, launched by someone with 10 years of online forum commenting experience and a commitment to being a co-contributor. Short and incomplete as that a sad sayonara seemed, with no lead up or explanation offered, questions about seriousness were raised and grace was extended along with affirmations of worth. Time of disconnect: 12:11pm, Jan 9 .
Happily enough, little more than twenty four hours passed before a recant was issued with admissions from the decision maker of being a a dolt and emotional, logic-challenged bag of goo, that is, I have girl cooties! along with the request to never to speak of the curious happenstance again.
From there this self described dolt and logic challenged bag of goo decided to turn turtle and post a non gooey, non doltish deep, and rather complex poem by Milton, a polemicist who rode his own spaceship to the stars, regarding of all things, the tending of a garden! Thereby, taking the whole crowd back to the picture window of original sin and purpose! Strangely enough, the focus of the post, though more general in nature than the more personal topic of Amy's garden, appears to be but one pitch of the fork away from the earlier request for other garden material made just prior to the intergalactic mini-melt with comment closure.
While I'm fork ready to follow the yellow brick road wherever it leads, I'm not willing to take heat for being small spirited, mean or vindictive in suggesting or noting that a Game of Some Sort is being played, when this sequence of events is in evidence. All behavior has meaning and it's my belief the human tendency toward an all or nothing approach to others is part of the dual thinking that resulted from the Original Fork-up , where injestion/ingestion of fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil led to just that.
Whatever's involved, I'm in as long as my consideration of whatever is happening doesn't have to be papered over, denied, or ignored in the name of nice. Which brings the whole matter back to my Old Favorite, older than the hills, the garden and whatever other chaos, order, blessed or accursed ground exists: Truth and Grace.
Well, that was a tad defensive. I found my voice and delivered a much cleaner version over to Lem's, with an ending in line with Milton's.
ReplyDeleteSomething things need to be worked out in a process, which is also part of the larger game!
Plus a new poem for Titus.
When It Comes To Sag
The five things
Sadder and
Saggier than
Old mama
Tits are these:
Old bridges,
Aging male
Masts with no
Viable
Means to raise
Heads and flags
For salutes,
Mattresses
Worn down by
Lovers now
Dead and gone,
Tired ropes
Of clothes lines
Missing pins
Unfit to be
Be hung with
Life's garments,
And lastly
The drooping
Loss of firm
Confidence
Depleting
Energy
Needed for
Vigorous
Survival.
Lem said...
ReplyDeleteI called him a dweeb on tweeter.
The horror! You suppose he's curled up in a fetal position, sobbing?
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ReplyDeleteDo Italians eat Pizza with a fork? They seem more civilized then Americans.
ReplyDeleteJust trying to think of an excuse.
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ReplyDeleteI can't believe NYC is worse off than Weiner as Mayor. But it is.
ReplyDeleteVery nice MamaM. I follow your reasoning and will continue to monitor the situation.
ReplyDeleteWe all will. Each person to make their own judgment.
We are poets, don't you know it!
ReplyDeleteBill's Pay Pals
ReplyDeleteThe horses gotta go.
The charter schools, too.
They work? Don't be slow!
They're interfering with the revenue.
De Blasio took a look around.
ReplyDeleteHad one thought in his tiny brain.
Don't use horses, take a train.
We will build on stable ground.
rcocean said...
ReplyDeleteDo Italians eat Pizza with a fork? They seem more civilized then Americans.
No.
Based on the way my grandma made it, pizza evolved from what we now call focaccia. This picture is of my effort but my nonna's looked the same.
dpb...good story and great looking pizza. El Pollo's recently been sharing links to some of his past posts that have also made for good reading.
ReplyDeleteOne of the things I enjoyed at Althouse in years past were the holiday posts where people shared how they celebrated the day or what they had for breakfast etc. I found it freeing to hear of the many different approaches and meaning found.