Here t’is Sunday eve ‘n I find m’self wand’ring ‘round ‘n about Tumbledown Manse, bored with television, bored even with computer Solitaire....I’ve washed the dishes, a complicated thing these days consisting of placing all the necessary items inside the dishwasher, adding a block of soap ‘n turning the darn thing on ‘n getting out of it’s way so it can do the job it’s s’pozed t’do....ditto for the washing machine...I c’d run the darned old vacuum cleaner 'n wake the dogs, I guess, but that seems like a totally wussie way to end the day....da boyz are pretty much ignoring me, Willie sprawled in the middle of the floor like a little black ‘n white throw rug ‘n Rusty lying beside Millyrose’s chair, lifting his head occasionally to give me a quizzical look...”I ain’t sleepy ‘n there ain’t no place I’m goin’ to”.....random tho’t’s in a random mind....the only thing that’s unusual about it is that normally this happens to me in the wee, small hours when I c'n blame all the wacky thoughts on insomnia....just makes a body think....’n wonder....or ponder....
Thinking is one of those things that’re almost always positive....but sometimes a body c’n over-think ‘n find hisself full of doubt about his position...on the other hand, if George Custer had given his problem just a little more thought, he might have chosen discretion as the better part of valor...’course, hindsight is a wonderful thing but you gotta stay alive to appreciate it.....
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