Hello, my diaphanous daffodils! How are you? Unfortunately, I am a little ill. I think I caught something from Mr. OrbsCorbs, as I spent most of yesterday either sitting on or hugging the toilet bowel. He knows about these things. He is plagued by them. I have seen him cycle in and out of illness for weeks, even months, at a time. He will vomit for a day, 2 days, 3 days in a row, then take longer to recover. Even my antidotes do not work for him. His gastroenterologist and psychiatrist agree that it is caused primarily by stress. Ha! I know the truth. It is caused by a blood curse that precedes my time. Thus, I can do little to help him.
I am gong to shorten my usual blog today in order to drink Gatorade and try to eat something. I’m so sorry that this happened. “The best laid schemes o' mice an' men / Gang aft a-gley.”
Speaking of diaphanous, here is a song of the same name from a group called Braving the Glacier:
Thank you for reading my blog this week. I appreciate your visit. I apologize for its brevity.
Sick and/or tired? Madame Zoltar has the cure: madamezoltar@jtirregulars.com.
Enjoy the glorious onslaught of our weather, my dears. At this time next year, we may be shoveling snow. Or we may not exist at all because of the end of the world on Dec. 21. Oh my. Just teasing, my loves. Have a wonderful week. Feracious!
Snow shoveling heart attack warning
3 hours ago
6 comments:
I hope you feel better Mme Z, what is up with everyone feeling sick?
Whenever I feel blue, I start breathing again.
My aunt was feracious, she had 12 kids. Some Irish twins as well, good stuff.
I am so sorry to hear that you have taken ill, Madame. Please rest up. Drink that "alligator juice" (what my kids called it) to replenish your fluids. No need to apologize. We so appreciate your weekly bits of wisdom and your magnificent insight.
You didn't get it from me, Mme. Z. I'm not contagious, unless insanity is. Better check with your Señor Zanza to see what kind of bugs he's been bringing home.
Il suffit de penser que Racine Avril à Paris, vous vous sentirez mieux dans quelques jours.
Parlez-vous humma humma?
Alors, qui aurait pensé que vous parliez français, pour ne pas mentionner humma humma .... {ricaner}
My french is very rusty.
I haven't spoken proper french for over 40 years.
I have a friend in Madison who was being conned by a Morroccan in Casa Blanca, so I took his skype number as began yanking the con man chains. some of the verbal exchanges were hilarious as my translations were not quite up to intelligible french. So one of the humorous questions was parlez vous a humma humma. The morrocan had the dumbest look on his face as he was trying to figure out who was now conning who. As I have said before, simple humor for simple people.
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