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???? TEFF HAS Twelve years on WDC! FORUM keeps ADC records. |
SEE: "HONOR ROLL -- ENTRY LIST -- Updating to Nov 30"  "Someone once told me not to bite off more than I could chew. I said, I'd rather choke on greatness than nibble on mediocrity." What are your thoughts about biting off more than you chew? from Lyn, a very good prompter, to be sure. Now, Lyn, my dear, I'm going to have to stay up for about seventeen days without sleep looking thru a 45 lb Bartlets to discover if this is a real quote or one that is your own wording.Bartletts offline doesn't come with an algorithm. (Shouldn't there be a y instead of i in a-g-o-r-i-t-h-m? Sounds like surveillance with a lisp.) All minor critique aside, let's see. Today --- I bought a 5 lb bag of flour. As I lifted it off the shelf with two hands, for I'm but a lil ting and my arms were so tired from re-arranging flower vases of drying seedum in its darkest red phase. Washing windows, dusting autumn type paraphernalia on my windows sills, pointing stuff inward and slightly outward. Finally acheiving: two portals with mirrors facing out at curiosity seekers whom are all over themselves with selfies and sell-me-a-minute, sell-it-again, cellular spy-ap-to harm Miss TEFFY, you know. Oh, they take my picture allatime. Then I hear -- Oh Her! The nerve to write from our town. Wuzz with the opinions? Anyway. She came to us. Not the opposite. How folks talk ... outside on the street. Tsk, tsk. I'm here, year four. Best to open the windows when today went to 75 degrees. Hell why not? Prompt regain --- The bite off more than one can chew ... part --- reminds of swallowing one's pride, biting one's tongue .. But the recipe for MEDIOCRACY CAKE -- there's one for you. Maybe I better call the evil witch Hetty back into Fandango for a baking lesson, me thinks. Oh, Hetty can bake now. She once aimed at greatness. She won second place in the You Can't Make A Better Cake Than Me Contest. She flew all the way to Milwauki for that. On her broom! Because a lady named, Linsey Belvadeer pushed Hetty into a three foot wide Chiffon Pie, known as THE GREATEST PIE EVER ROLLED --- The audience boo-ed the unsuspecting Hetty, an out-of-towner, like me. Can you imagine the inhumanity? A sympathetic soul might mumble poor Betty, I mean Hetty. I had to bite my tongue for a second, excuse me. Anyways, Het dresssed to kill in her best baking garb. She's one for the Medieval costumes, our gal, Hetty Hollinger. She had on yard wide, white pantallons, a bland burlap sheath, thigh high black leather boots and a polka dot, orange on navy apron which took four yards of cotton to sew up, just the way Het demands from her brow-beaten seamstresses. For three full years past --- Those knee constircting boots were extremely popular among the posh. Whom royaly outfitted themselves with these, made in elsewhere $200 boots (because they could) over steadily boring tight-as-hell blue jeans. Alas, Hetty bought into the fad. At the baking gala, It was rather sad though. As the story goes, they pull Hetty boot heel first out of the pie. She's dripping with remorse; she'd forgotten her recipe for Mediocracy Cake at home. The chiffon made her so dizzy she couldn't recall a single ingredient. Hetty really can't stomach sweet. She's much to sour, you know. Everybody sez so. But egotist that she is --- she simply waved her magic wand -- stoppped time, cut the winner ribbon in half --- all while holding onto the judge's Adam's apple -- wondering silently if it was from a baked apple tart or not(?) AND ... and Wallah! Suddenly, the entire road went up in swoons of cheers. There was Hetty back home, doling out Mediocracy Cake on a long picnic table. Right in front of her cottage. We were blown away by her story. The only thing that saved an eager lot of cake eaters was the fact that a few of them had read Tamara Myers, But Hetty held onto that red ribbon like a lobster trying to purge a networth of spam. As a matte of fact the main ingredient of Mediocracy Cake is a slight 1/4 cup of spam. But please, don't tell anyone that secret. HETTY would have a fit. She's a fit thrower, by nature. Sad but true. The end. |
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