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Not in the clamor of the crowded street, not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng, but in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
REDIRECT ALERT! (Scroll down past this mess if you're trying to read an archived post. Thanks. No, really, thanks.) Due to my inability to control my temper and complacently accept continued silliness with not-quite-as-reliable-as-it-ought-to-be Blogger/Blogspot, your beloved Possumblog will now waddle across the Information Dirt Road and park its prehensile tail at http://possumblog.mu.nu. This site will remain in place as a backup in case Munuvia gets hit by a bus or something, but I don't think they have as much trouble with this as some places do. ::cough::blogspot::cough:: So click here and adjust your links. I apologize for the inconvenience, but it's one of those things. Tuesday, January 13, 2004
Stoking the literary fires
As you know, commentary on most of the world's literature can be found herein, which is why some young student just came through searching for: the enormous turnip(synopsis. Happy to be of help--see there was this turnip, and it was enormous. And speaking of great stories, this morning's Toothbrush Story was a pretty good one, if I do say so myself. It was about a gopher, whose name was supplied to me by Tiny Girl as "Gophie." Of course, Gophie was a big dumb lummox of a nutria, who had large yellow teeth which grew and grew and produced the need for Daddy to make buck-toothed chewing sounds. One day he (Gophie, not Daddy) was sittting on a bench at the park eating a bag of carrots when a very beautiful female gopher happened by. (Catherine said her name was Kasey with a K.) Kasey, who sounded like a Valley Girl with an overbite, took a liking to Gophie rather quickly (as is the way of rodents) but was shocked and appalled by his ghastly yellow dentition. She told him he needed to BRUSH HIS TEETH. It seems Gophie had never seen himself in the mirror, so Kasey showed him with her makeup compact how hideous he was, and he was VERY embarrassed that he had allowed his dental hygeine to slip so far. AT ONCE, he scurried home to his burrow annnnnnd--"BRUSHED HIS TEETH!" Yes, that's right, Catherine. He brushed his big yellow incisors until they sparkled like a brand new set of piano keys. And he and Kasey hit it off really well afterwards, and set up housekeeping in a very nice three bedroom hole. "Did they have any children?" Yes, they had thirty-eight. "Did they brush their teeth?" THAT, my dear, is a story for tomorrow.
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