Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Here Is One Noo, One Unit of Noos

I don't feel so good! "I feel udderly inhuman," Tom said moonily. (Does that stretch the definition of a Tom Swifty?) It's because I just found out that we have to move again. Back to Florida, that wang. Moving is the second most stressful event, right after "getting married to your new puppy," and I've had to do it like forty times in my life. Where is home? "Home is where your dog is," Tom barked doggedly, sliding sensually into "home"--home base, that is!--which is okay because he and his dog are married. (I tell you starting today I am taking Tom Swifties to the next level.)

2 comments:

Admiral Farragut said...

Oh, dear! I had heard that Georgia was not kind to poets, and now they've found you out and are running you out of town! Is there a crowd with torches and gardening tools held high outside of your window? Is Elegant Choice resplendent in tar and feathers? I fear it's the Squidbillie influence that has turned the populace against literature, or even literacy.

Tricia said...

NO I LOVE GEORGIA, there is a reason there are so many songs about it