Thursday, May 27, 2004
Henniway you look at it, Raymond’s garden is in full bloom. In the mornings, he waddles out to his backyard to check on his fish and to see what new blossoms have spread their wings. His peonies bloomed early this year, and each blossom was bigger than the next. He put his head into a large pink flower and drew in the spicy scent of Hatchburg’s past. He recalled a Memorial Day when he waved his wings from the Post 22 Legion float as it passed along Broad Breast Ave. In his side yard, his mock orange sends its fragrance across the winds and reminds him of Henrietta’s wedding anniversary, which is on May 23, the day the mock orange blooms every year. Raymond remembers the day because Henrietta eloped and many townsfolk had their beaks up in the air about it. They all wanted to raise a glass to Henrietta and do the chicken dance at her reception. However, all Henrietta ever wanted was a small wedding with no guests, just the witnesses. Raymond got over his disappointment and sent Henrietta a wedding gift: a year of free feather cuts at his place. Raymond’s fish have come from the bottom of his pond and are swimming around a new water lily. There are no signs of frogs.
All the squawk this week at Rosie’s is the $1,000 six-egg frittata with lobster, cream and sevruga caviar offered for breakfast at Norma’s (the Parker Meridien hotel, NYC). Rosie pronounced the frittata eggceptionally ostentatious consumption and a high fat dish besides.
Francesca is strutting her feathers after meeting a fine rooster on Hachmatch.com. On Sunday, her new beau Brice surprised her with tickets to see My Fair Lady at the Berlind Theater in Princeton. They held wings throughout the performance, and just before the lights come on for the intermission, Brice pecked her. Francesca left feeling like laying an egg and thought: Why can’t a rooster be more like a hen?
As every Hatchburgian knows, Henrietta’s feathers tremble at the mention of Michael Moore. She laid a dozen extra large ones when she heard he won the Palme d’Or in Cannes for Fahrenheit 911. When she gets wind of the film’s opening, she plans to build a nest outside the theater to be the first in line to buy a ticket. She is giving away bleeding heart plants to the first 1000 ticket holders for the first show. When interviewed, by the Hatchburg Press, for her reaction to Michael Moore’s big win, Henrietta said, I would lay a dozen for him every day of the week.
According to Sunny, if the FBI cannot tell the difference between secret Spanish documents and a kid’s Spanish homework, the sky is falling.
All the squawk this week at Rosie’s is the $1,000 six-egg frittata with lobster, cream and sevruga caviar offered for breakfast at Norma’s (the Parker Meridien hotel, NYC). Rosie pronounced the frittata eggceptionally ostentatious consumption and a high fat dish besides.
Francesca is strutting her feathers after meeting a fine rooster on Hachmatch.com. On Sunday, her new beau Brice surprised her with tickets to see My Fair Lady at the Berlind Theater in Princeton. They held wings throughout the performance, and just before the lights come on for the intermission, Brice pecked her. Francesca left feeling like laying an egg and thought: Why can’t a rooster be more like a hen?
As every Hatchburgian knows, Henrietta’s feathers tremble at the mention of Michael Moore. She laid a dozen extra large ones when she heard he won the Palme d’Or in Cannes for Fahrenheit 911. When she gets wind of the film’s opening, she plans to build a nest outside the theater to be the first in line to buy a ticket. She is giving away bleeding heart plants to the first 1000 ticket holders for the first show. When interviewed, by the Hatchburg Press, for her reaction to Michael Moore’s big win, Henrietta said, I would lay a dozen for him every day of the week.
According to Sunny, if the FBI cannot tell the difference between secret Spanish documents and a kid’s Spanish homework, the sky is falling.
Monday, May 10, 2004
Henniway you look it, U.S. news this week is like a bad fried egg: it’s hard to swallow, it stinks, and the more you eat it, the sicker you feel.
This is final exam week at Hatchburg High School. Francesca is up to her wings in angles and parallelograms. Known as the toughest bird in the math department, Francesca’s students testify that she is not a proponent of grade inflation but that she gives grades according to Hatchburg High’s high standards. When asked to grade George Bush’s performance as our Commander in Chief, Francesca took a piece of chalk from under her wing and scratched a big fat F on her blackboard.
According to Francesca, Mr. Bush does not do his homework and writes his own textbooks. In this week’s review of obtuse triangles, Francesca went into a word association fugue, and pointed out that Mr. Bush’s refusal to comply with the Geneva Convention has left prisoners at Guantànamo Bay, Cuba detained without charges, without a trial and without a right to counsel. His angles “just don’t add up,” says Francesca.
After viewing the Iraqi prisoner abuse photos, and listening to Rumsfeld’s weapons of mass dissembling, Kitty squawked, “I need time off.” She closed the Liver and Gizzard Bar until Rumsfeld finishes reading General Antonio Taguba’s report on the Abu Ghraib prison. She mailed him a pecket of Evelyn Woods material and a Pollame Psychotherapy coupon good for three sessions of visualization training. She also mailed a coupon to George Bush. Both men needed to see the photos of the Iraqi prisoners before they could comprehend the conditions in Abu Ghraib. On the other hand, was it because once the photos were published they were caught looking like the hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil, monkeys?
Henrietta, Hatchburg’s most beautiful and devoted Michael Moore fan, is up in flying feathers over Disney’s decision to block Michael’s new film “Fahrenheit 911.” Henrietta scratched off a few choice words to Michael Eisner calling him a perpetrator of politically based corporate censorship. She noted in closing that she would be sealing her envelope with a product of her own making that perfectly describes Eisner’s decision.
As of May 7, the New York Times reports the deaths of 754 American Service members. Condolences to the family members of the following who have died in Iraq:
Beckstrand, James L., 27, Army; Escondido, Calif.
Buryj, Jesse R., 21, Army; Canton, Ohio.
Campbell, Ryan M., 25, Army; Kirksville, Mo.
Darling, Norman K, 29, Army; Middleboro, Mass.
Dayton, Jeffrey G., 27, Army; Caledonia, Miss.
Ewing, Jeremy R., Army; 22, Miami.
Marcus, Lyndon A., Jr., 21 Army; Long Beach, Calif.
Patterson, Esaug., Fr., 25 Army; Ridgeland, S. C.
Reed, Ryan E., 20, Army; Colorado Springs.
Schmidt, Justin B., 23 Army; Bradenton, Fla.
Sprayberry, Marvin R. III, 24 Tehachapi, Calif.
Vincent, Scott M., 21, Marines; Bokoshe, Okla.
Wahl, Gregory L., 30, Army; Salisbury, N. C.
Wilfong, Joshua S., 22, Marines; Walker, W. Va.
Wine, Trevor A., 22, Army, Orange, Calif.
And, to Lynndie Rana England, Charles A. Graner, and the rest, you have crossed the road, and Hatchburgians ask why?
del Fabro suggests you read the above names and visualize the following: your doorbell rings at 6AM, you answer it and find military personal at your doorstep; one of them says “we regret to inform you.”
This is final exam week at Hatchburg High School. Francesca is up to her wings in angles and parallelograms. Known as the toughest bird in the math department, Francesca’s students testify that she is not a proponent of grade inflation but that she gives grades according to Hatchburg High’s high standards. When asked to grade George Bush’s performance as our Commander in Chief, Francesca took a piece of chalk from under her wing and scratched a big fat F on her blackboard.
According to Francesca, Mr. Bush does not do his homework and writes his own textbooks. In this week’s review of obtuse triangles, Francesca went into a word association fugue, and pointed out that Mr. Bush’s refusal to comply with the Geneva Convention has left prisoners at Guantànamo Bay, Cuba detained without charges, without a trial and without a right to counsel. His angles “just don’t add up,” says Francesca.
After viewing the Iraqi prisoner abuse photos, and listening to Rumsfeld’s weapons of mass dissembling, Kitty squawked, “I need time off.” She closed the Liver and Gizzard Bar until Rumsfeld finishes reading General Antonio Taguba’s report on the Abu Ghraib prison. She mailed him a pecket of Evelyn Woods material and a Pollame Psychotherapy coupon good for three sessions of visualization training. She also mailed a coupon to George Bush. Both men needed to see the photos of the Iraqi prisoners before they could comprehend the conditions in Abu Ghraib. On the other hand, was it because once the photos were published they were caught looking like the hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil, monkeys?
Henrietta, Hatchburg’s most beautiful and devoted Michael Moore fan, is up in flying feathers over Disney’s decision to block Michael’s new film “Fahrenheit 911.” Henrietta scratched off a few choice words to Michael Eisner calling him a perpetrator of politically based corporate censorship. She noted in closing that she would be sealing her envelope with a product of her own making that perfectly describes Eisner’s decision.
As of May 7, the New York Times reports the deaths of 754 American Service members. Condolences to the family members of the following who have died in Iraq:
Beckstrand, James L., 27, Army; Escondido, Calif.
Buryj, Jesse R., 21, Army; Canton, Ohio.
Campbell, Ryan M., 25, Army; Kirksville, Mo.
Darling, Norman K, 29, Army; Middleboro, Mass.
Dayton, Jeffrey G., 27, Army; Caledonia, Miss.
Ewing, Jeremy R., Army; 22, Miami.
Marcus, Lyndon A., Jr., 21 Army; Long Beach, Calif.
Patterson, Esaug., Fr., 25 Army; Ridgeland, S. C.
Reed, Ryan E., 20, Army; Colorado Springs.
Schmidt, Justin B., 23 Army; Bradenton, Fla.
Sprayberry, Marvin R. III, 24 Tehachapi, Calif.
Vincent, Scott M., 21, Marines; Bokoshe, Okla.
Wahl, Gregory L., 30, Army; Salisbury, N. C.
Wilfong, Joshua S., 22, Marines; Walker, W. Va.
Wine, Trevor A., 22, Army, Orange, Calif.
And, to Lynndie Rana England, Charles A. Graner, and the rest, you have crossed the road, and Hatchburgians ask why?
del Fabro suggests you read the above names and visualize the following: your doorbell rings at 6AM, you answer it and find military personal at your doorstep; one of them says “we regret to inform you.”
Monday, May 03, 2004
Henniway you look at it, the white dogwood is in bloom. Along the fence at 22 Béarnaise, violets and lilies of the valley cry over the death of four-year-old Baxter, Princeton’s carin terrier of Small Animal Rescue. Baxter’s needless death hit Rusty hard. He thought about buying a bottle of Jack Daniels, but he went to an AA meeting instead. Thelma called out sick at the Eagle. She told her boss it was no time for jelly donuts. After reading Baxter’s obituary, every Hatchburg layer laid a dozen rotten eggs. Where the eggs ended up, is anyone’s guess.
Friday night, Reba scrambled on Joey’s Harley, put her wings around him and they road up to Plymouth High Rock Cemetery to talk about the war. They sat on the tomb of a split comb Sicilian Buttercup, and mused on what they could do to get more hens and roosters squawking about the war. The clear night and silvery moon inspired them to work for peace. They scratched out plans until morning, and then drifted off to sleep just as the sun splashed yellow on the gravestones.
Juliet and Kitty spent a relaxing weekend in the Finger Lakes. At The Bragdon House on South Main Street, in Geneva New York, they slept like newborn chicklettes. On Saturday afternoon they listened to the Hobart Tones, sing Paul Simon’s “Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes.” Kitty pronounced soloist Tom Evans absolutely fabulous. She plans to book Tom and the Tones at the Liver and Gizzard for a night of acappella.
Sunday morning, Raymond Cox sat down in his barber chair to ponder the Sinclair top executives who decided to pre-empt a broadcast of “Nightline” devoted to reciting the names of all the American service members killed in action in Iraq. The executives said that reading aloud the names of the war dead, accompanied by photos, would be an antiwar statement. Hattie says lets call a fouled nest a fouled nest. To name the dead is to witness the truth. In Henrietta’s opinion, the Sinclair Broadcast Group’s decision smells like rotten eggs cooked to order by special interest groups.
Miss Fiona Crawford turned five on April 28. She had two parties. On Wednesday, she celebrated at the Ganges Indian restaurant. Surrounded by a dozen purple balloons she pronounced the food hot and spicy and the service fried. She looked ravishing in her spring green floral dress and black paten Mary Janes. She wore her hair in braids tied with red bows, and she charmed the Ganges patrons with her giggles. On Sunday she partied with her school chums. The sun slid in and out of the clouds as Thelma and Juliet watched the blond prima donna, bare legged in her pink tutu, climb a red maple. Rosie ruffled her feathers with pleasure, and forgot the state of the world while she pecked into a large piece of birthday cake filled with lemon curd and raspberry jam.
On Saturday night, Joey and Kitty flew along Route 95 to Philly. They went trash picking in Fairmont and had dinner at Figs with Daisy (a Versace lipstick model) and Brenman (Philly’s hot muralist). Kitty pecked her way though a plate of grilled octopus and fig ice cream. Joey scratched a plate of vegetables, but what he really wanted was a taste of the Versace lips.
Congratulations to filmmaker Morgan Spurlock. His film “Super Size Me.” won the documentary directors award at Sundance. Mr. Spurlock dared himself to eat nothing but McDonald’s for 30 straight days. In a month, he gained 24.5 pounds, raised his blood pressure and cholesterol, and had his liver begging for mercy. Rosie asks, what is with the beef derived flavor additive in McDonald’s fries? How many vegetarians eat McDonald’s fries and think they are making a meatless choice?
The death toll in Iraq (not counting thousands of slaughtered Iraqis) is now over 700. Condolences to the families of Adam W. Estep, age 23, Sgt., Army; of Campbell California, and Martin Kondor, age 20, Pfc., Army; of York Pa.
Friday night, Reba scrambled on Joey’s Harley, put her wings around him and they road up to Plymouth High Rock Cemetery to talk about the war. They sat on the tomb of a split comb Sicilian Buttercup, and mused on what they could do to get more hens and roosters squawking about the war. The clear night and silvery moon inspired them to work for peace. They scratched out plans until morning, and then drifted off to sleep just as the sun splashed yellow on the gravestones.
Juliet and Kitty spent a relaxing weekend in the Finger Lakes. At The Bragdon House on South Main Street, in Geneva New York, they slept like newborn chicklettes. On Saturday afternoon they listened to the Hobart Tones, sing Paul Simon’s “Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes.” Kitty pronounced soloist Tom Evans absolutely fabulous. She plans to book Tom and the Tones at the Liver and Gizzard for a night of acappella.
Sunday morning, Raymond Cox sat down in his barber chair to ponder the Sinclair top executives who decided to pre-empt a broadcast of “Nightline” devoted to reciting the names of all the American service members killed in action in Iraq. The executives said that reading aloud the names of the war dead, accompanied by photos, would be an antiwar statement. Hattie says lets call a fouled nest a fouled nest. To name the dead is to witness the truth. In Henrietta’s opinion, the Sinclair Broadcast Group’s decision smells like rotten eggs cooked to order by special interest groups.
Miss Fiona Crawford turned five on April 28. She had two parties. On Wednesday, she celebrated at the Ganges Indian restaurant. Surrounded by a dozen purple balloons she pronounced the food hot and spicy and the service fried. She looked ravishing in her spring green floral dress and black paten Mary Janes. She wore her hair in braids tied with red bows, and she charmed the Ganges patrons with her giggles. On Sunday she partied with her school chums. The sun slid in and out of the clouds as Thelma and Juliet watched the blond prima donna, bare legged in her pink tutu, climb a red maple. Rosie ruffled her feathers with pleasure, and forgot the state of the world while she pecked into a large piece of birthday cake filled with lemon curd and raspberry jam.
On Saturday night, Joey and Kitty flew along Route 95 to Philly. They went trash picking in Fairmont and had dinner at Figs with Daisy (a Versace lipstick model) and Brenman (Philly’s hot muralist). Kitty pecked her way though a plate of grilled octopus and fig ice cream. Joey scratched a plate of vegetables, but what he really wanted was a taste of the Versace lips.
Congratulations to filmmaker Morgan Spurlock. His film “Super Size Me.” won the documentary directors award at Sundance. Mr. Spurlock dared himself to eat nothing but McDonald’s for 30 straight days. In a month, he gained 24.5 pounds, raised his blood pressure and cholesterol, and had his liver begging for mercy. Rosie asks, what is with the beef derived flavor additive in McDonald’s fries? How many vegetarians eat McDonald’s fries and think they are making a meatless choice?
The death toll in Iraq (not counting thousands of slaughtered Iraqis) is now over 700. Condolences to the families of Adam W. Estep, age 23, Sgt., Army; of Campbell California, and Martin Kondor, age 20, Pfc., Army; of York Pa.
