Four Horsemen Newsletter Vol. 52, Issue. 11 No Parking Signs: Parking for the Apocalypse is only permitted between the hours of 6 a.m. and 9 p.m. Violators will be towed at vehicle owner’s expense. Impounded property will be auctioned off if pending fines are not settled within 10, regular business days. Weather Center: NOAA forecasts… Continue reading Kingdom Come
Yesterday I got a “shaming” letter in the mail. Typically, I toss any and all mailers in the recycling. Most of them are junk - advertising goods and services I’m don’t care about. This one, pointed out to me by my son, was from Citizens for a Better Florida, an Orlando-based PAC that calls itself… Continue reading Shamailer
For the past several months I’ve been on a journey of transformation. Finally within touching distance of a decade-old goal weight, I’ve been daydreaming about an entirely new wardrobe to celebrate. Pants are falling off my hips, my body is swimming in my blouses, even the Sisters are in need of new underpinning. My problem?… Continue reading Fashion disaster
Several years ago, WordPress introduced a Reblog function. If readers want a post from another site, click a button and it's published, in an abbreviated form (55 words), on their site. Attribution and a direct link to the original post is included, but so is any photo that is featured at the top of the… Continue reading On the rocks
Gleaming in the moonlight, the unblemished sand is the perfect slate for my vitriolic complaints. A storm-torn quill, plucked from the befouled backside of a garbage-eating gull, is my mighty sword. Digging deep into the sand, I gouge out a litney of aspersions towards those who perpetrated wrongs against me. Listing them in their entirety,… Continue reading Sand script
Throughout her academic career, my daughter worked exceedingly hard to earn high grades. A consummate overachiever, she maintained an A-average from elementary school through her recent master’s degree. Her education was serious business. When she was in middle school, probably around seventh grade, the scale for earning an A was a numerical score of 95-100.… Continue reading It all counts
From June through August, apocalyptic storms, uncivilized masses of trespassers, infuriatingly motionless traffic, and hellacious heat intrude upon my idyllic, bucolic condition. These endless days of summer wear on my fragile sanity.