One week until election day and counting. The tension within and around Washington and in the chattering classes is peaking. I was unable to raise the $1500 to have
C. Batsell Bateman Mortuary and Crematorium incinerate the hapless lowlife whom I killed with my $20 contribution last month as the calender ran out and he is now mixed with those animals euthanized at the humane shelter this week and is boxed up and unceremoniously heading to the Madison County landfill.
I often wonder if anyone can look at a dog and not see one of God's greatest creations! I am like Adolph Hitler who is reported to have said at one time in his busy life: "I know people and I know dogs, and I can honestly tell you that I like dogs!" Of course, I have taken the liberty to quote the English version as most of us would not know what to make of the German version:
"Ich bein ein Berliner, nine hunder, mitt wolfanhangers,geist flatulanders et mein pudendal grandeschmerkins. Ja? Mein hunder konamen e "Blonde"." I took a half quarter of German in Jr. College back in 1971, and never learned why the verb was so far down the sentence. It was like the German writers would have you in suspense waiting for the verb. I recall translating a Penthouse Forum letter in the original German for my midterm test, and it went something like this:
Anna's perky breasts with nipples large as saucers defying gravity for the moment in my mind were etched. Waves of Catholic guilt over my soul too great to bare until confessional as my sister in the shower, I watched. Oh, I forget the rest of the translation. It is not important.
We have not had a significant rain here in Carroll County since mid August and this has hurt the beans. That all changed yesterday when much needed rain fell like manna from heaven. Too late for the beans, but just in time for winter wheat which needs to be in place before November 15.
The second anniversary of my dear sweet mother's death is approaching and I am in a melancholia over it. I miss her terribly. As she aged she developed a peculiar odor which is best described as a mixture of sour milk and puppy-breath. All the women in my mother's family bore this trait. Sundays were often confusing as one never knew if we had a new puppy in the house or a visit from Aunt Clotile. Bathing and liniments were of no use in masking the curse as my mother's sisters would refer to it. The sweet puppy's breath would give way to sour milk as the rigors of age applied its burden on these proud and strong women.
Jack D. Maybolt President Urban Poverty Law Center
"A rich man has about as much chance of getting into heaven as a camel has avoiding sex with men in the middle east." Mother Maybolt, 1924-2008
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