Words

Whimsy, whimsical; delish, munch, yummy, veggie, peek, luscious; there are school buzzwords such as "meaty" for lessons, which almost sent me through the roof; drill-down, rich, robust (you can tell when the coaches have received a memo on vocabulary to use).  Shortened words, like vaycay (guilty), or gorj; these words are fingernails on a chalkboard to me, irritating, almost like ripping out an artery.

Contrary to many, the word "moist" doesn't bother me, but talk to me about "savory" and I want to rocket through the troposphere unless it is being used as a noun. Now that you know my weak points, realize that you can push me into a coma just by saying the word "munch", but do remember that it rhymes with "punch" which is a good probability in my fight or flight status.  By accident.  A good belt in the pan.  Try it.  Crunch.

I avoid saccharine, syrupy, warm horseapple pie nonsense because to me it is a pig dressed up as a silk purse.  Wait.  Sow's ear. something like that; for under the lush vegetative monotony of the word whimsy is a credit card of pretension.  Dodgy misdirection invented to draw attention away from the true matter; it's a magic trick designed to draw in those searching for non-existent perfection to fill their boredom or social awkwardness.  I'll get the veggies for munching on while we peek at the delish dessert menu for Waffledump's reception.  Ooo, luscious whimsical cupcakes!  Disclaimer: I recently watched the film "Bridesmaids", which inspired this rant of meow.

Now maybe you genuinely enjoy Barbie, Lifetime, QVC and their pipeline to China, or finding a card to be given to a wacky, wonderful, witty woman.  You go for it and never mind me; just be careful where it takes you in life.  Read stuff deeper than Hallmark.  Think about really doing a kindness for someone and be genuine about it, no snide see-what-I-did-for-you's.  You'll feel better whilst sitting down with a bowl of munchies, after peeking at the Christmas presents.

Nothing commercial escapes the twee, not even cat food.  I brought home two bags from two different companies, both for sensitive stomachs; my guys get variety under the tenet that no one would like to eat mashed potatoes every meal, every day.  The advertising for one is scientific, noting the ingredients in clear wording; the other, however, is a mess of brocaded wallpaper in a house of cigarette fiends.

It states the brand, under which is the line "created for your cat's natural greatness".  The word "savor" has a trademark after it, and dang, this stuff is all about "embracing senses through taste, texture, and aroma".  Embrace my foot you doofus bag of cat food.  On the back are explanations as to why you should win the Nobel Prize for buying this product:  "created for purposeful appreciation and a keen sense of awareness", "created for life without compromise", and "created for a cat like yours".  Like Roger?  Come and get the little greatness, his digestive system is why I'm buying the sensitive stomach kibble.

The ingredients, that you are distracted from by the cozy wording, are a plethora of fillers: soy, corn, and poultry by-product meal which is ground up feathers.  I have sworn on my mother's grave never to write a short essay on pet food, it would kill you to know.  However, my Mom doesn't have a grave, she's in my dresser drawer after I rescued her ashes from where my father had them, on top of his Zenith t.v.  He watched television all day, so the black tupperware container that the ashes are returned in (inside a plastic bag with a twist tie), would get hot.  This may have had Dorothy think that she ended up in hell, until the bells rung on The Price is Right.

Now, the cat food is a brand my cats like, but I should have read the ingredient listing other than the advertising on the front, announcing that salmon is numbah one on the roster.  You know that if I saw the word "embracing" in the blurb there is no way the store would have gotten my seventeen dollars.  The cats are eating it, my four chowderheads, with delight.  I will keep an eye on their keen awareness, we don't want them to become too smart and figure out how to get to the casino.

The air is cooling now that the earth has turned up its sideways horizon past the sun; sort of neat to think we stand perpendicular to it, and thus spin forward or backwards, depending on which way we face.  Winds blow clouds about the sky; cathedrals and buildings form and roil as cumulus rise, a white city floating in the air, a place of colors turning from yellow to gold to orange to coral-rose-purple, and then dusk.  Thoughts flow, then are caught by the tide of sleep and taken to the sea in fisher nets to disperse amid currents.  Hang your fingers over the side of the dory, let little fish bring you pearls, shells, words.  Good night.