Folky Friday

It’s hard to pretend you’re not pretending…
which, in part, helps account for the suspicious,
serpentine popularity of folk music.

 

A certain prime vintage ole sore head,
at a gathering last week, described civilization as,
“Each generation’s camouflage
of its predecessor’s barbarisms.”

 

Another surly sport told his kid the following:

“Whenever some ordinary bladder-brain
tells you something new and useful, always say,
‘Ahhh, I knew that already!’”  The younger
thought on this for a sec and said, “Ahhh I knew…” 
“Hold it sucker!” shouted the ole man,
“Don’t chu go no further with that.”

 

I also know of this other fellow who I believe works around either the Theology, or Economics Department over at the City college who is extremely proper, conservative, and down right “candy-assed,” unsurpassed, but one Friday afternoon, after three full fingers of Old Crow, he faced himself in the mirror and declared, “Why don’t you just E-A-S-E up, just ease up dammit!  There’s some law, or standard concerning everything you’ll ever do – so why not just east up.”  His reflection hiccupped, and said, “Are you telling me that this is a constant?”
 

Song for a Friday

First Verse: Doing a re-write won’t make it right.

Second Verse:  Doing a re-write can make it right.

Verse Three:  What can you say after you’ve said it all?

Fourth Verse:  There ain’t no fourth verse
at this particular…particular…time – yeah, time.
 

One little kid (on the way to becoming a big kid)
made the following verbal presentation,
“If it weren’t for gravity we wouldn’t have to
‘aim high’ in life,” to which his even kiddler
little brother replied, “Get sharp, chump –
if it wasn’t for life we wouldn’t have to aim at all.”

J.

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