Birthdays come every year, if we're lucky, and I'm notorious in forgetting them all, including mine. This year, I made a resolution to remember as many as possible, to update a "birthday calendar" to that purpose, and clog the mailboxes of the unsuspecting with bits of paper celebrating our encroaching dotage.
However, I suspect that involving postal carriers in "frivolous distractions" (as almost every one of my outgoing notes should be considered) may not be all that appreciated in this current environment. To mitigate that only somewhat, I offer this in lieu of cards unsent or undelivered. If they accumulate in the upcoming weeks (or months), there may be a real tsunami of postage!
Or not.
So get older. You have my permission:
However, I suspect that involving postal carriers in "frivolous distractions" (as almost every one of my outgoing notes should be considered) may not be all that appreciated in this current environment. To mitigate that only somewhat, I offer this in lieu of cards unsent or undelivered. If they accumulate in the upcoming weeks (or months), there may be a real tsunami of postage!
Or not.
So get older. You have my permission:
I heard the gongs at midnight....
Please stick to the snoofers and tringlers and fuzzles,
Or use your pantookas, your dafflers and wuzzles.
But gongs about midnight, I simply can't bear!
It flickers my night light, it pulls at my hair!
So if aging's your thing, and you feel you must grow up,
Skip cheese made of string -- it will just make you throw up.
It's cake that you need, filled with frosting and goo
If cut, it won't bleed, whether one piece or two.
But no gongs, please! (Apologies to Dr. Seuss!)
Perpetrated by Jim Middleton, 2019 (will need to have something new by August)
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