Flapdoodle
Flapdoodle sounds like it means "malarky" or "cockamamie" or "Y'know, that little flap in my onesie suit that earns its paycheck once in a while." Right now, though, it's looking more like it means filler post. And anyway, I don't have a onesie that fits me anymore, mostly because J.C. Penney/Sears quit carrying the adult-size footy pajamas back in the '80s—what I have left is threadbare, and holey, and sometimes, wholly holy.
Anyhoo. I've had a case of BA (that's 'blogging avoidance') for a few months now, and I'm not saying it won't continue. What I will say is:
1. That neck/shoulder injury I had? It left for a while. But now it's back.
2. By back, I mean, it returned. Not like, back my back.
3. I think "Back My Back" would be a cool rap song. Even though I dislike most rap, I think I would listen to it, especially if I wrote the lyrics. But I can't be sure.
4. One of these days, I might be the type of blogger who writes deeply personal innermost thoughts (not unlike these stream-of-consciousness ramblings). But I wouldn't bet the farm just yet.
5. I don't really have a farm. And I rarely bet. Except at work, with my bosses, when I know they're wrong about something (like how tall a co-worker of ours is).
6. Don't our office bets sound fun?
7. I never collect when I'm right, either.
8. I've probably said this before, but I don't read the numbers here; I just like setting things off. Not in a firecracker sort of way.
9. Which reminds me, when they were blasting back in the day for some kind of road or something, this kid I went to elementary school with picked up what he thought was a firecracker and it went off in his hand and took off a few of his fingers.
10. Fortunately, his parents were doctors, so they sewed them back on.
11. Never pick up anything you find outside, unless it's money, or your dog's leavings.
12. I don't have a dog.
13. I do have leavings, but they're dealt with in other, more sanitary ways.
I wasn't planning on going circular with this post, but apparently, titling it 'Flapdoodle' was right on target.
Anyhoo. I've had a case of BA (that's 'blogging avoidance') for a few months now, and I'm not saying it won't continue. What I will say is:
1. That neck/shoulder injury I had? It left for a while. But now it's back.
2. By back, I mean, it returned. Not like, back my back.
3. I think "Back My Back" would be a cool rap song. Even though I dislike most rap, I think I would listen to it, especially if I wrote the lyrics. But I can't be sure.
4. One of these days, I might be the type of blogger who writes deeply personal innermost thoughts (not unlike these stream-of-consciousness ramblings). But I wouldn't bet the farm just yet.
5. I don't really have a farm. And I rarely bet. Except at work, with my bosses, when I know they're wrong about something (like how tall a co-worker of ours is).
6. Don't our office bets sound fun?
7. I never collect when I'm right, either.
8. I've probably said this before, but I don't read the numbers here; I just like setting things off. Not in a firecracker sort of way.
9. Which reminds me, when they were blasting back in the day for some kind of road or something, this kid I went to elementary school with picked up what he thought was a firecracker and it went off in his hand and took off a few of his fingers.
10. Fortunately, his parents were doctors, so they sewed them back on.
11. Never pick up anything you find outside, unless it's money, or your dog's leavings.
12. I don't have a dog.
13. I do have leavings, but they're dealt with in other, more sanitary ways.
I wasn't planning on going circular with this post, but apparently, titling it 'Flapdoodle' was right on target.
posted by H. at 12:57 AM
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