Happy Fourth of July!
A day early, along with this post. No one should have to check email on July 4.
One hot day, when I was living in Virginia, regularly sweating through my shirts, I went to a service at a Baptist church with no air conditioning. The congregation was glistening, the women were fanning themselves, and the preacher gave a rambling and rousing sermon I will never forget.
“Emails?” he demanded. “I call them d-mails! Devil mails.”
Amen to that. What a great and independent country we have.
BW
July
Too hot for socks Too hot for a shirt Too hot stop talking Too hot it hurts Sweat on my upper lip Sweat on my brow Sweat even in places Ought not be allowed I’m taking this off This too and this Off with the undies Close your eyes I insist I need a little nudity A walk 'round the room Don’t dare look now You’ll see a full moon Is there no air In this blasted old place I feel I’ve been running A marathon race Don’t touch me at all Get out of the way Your hands are like fire Don’t touch me I say Let me lie on the floor It’s cooler down here Ah just the thing Could you fetch me a beer