Smolder

in Sundries

The tobacco has regained its hold. Truth told, I now only blow smoke in God’s great outdoors. But that bores, as I perch on the front porch and pass time and carcinogens while gossiping with neighbors strolling their progeny or puppy or a mix thereof.

Is it true the house next door sold in a day, and they got their asking…plus? True.

And the house mid-block could go for 2 million? Close to it.

And this year’s block party waterslide is over forty feet tall? Yep.

And your seven year old puppy is suddenly allergic to all manner of food stuffs…like white rice to chicken to barley? So it seems. “What do you feed him?” I don’t know, but it cost damn near 25 bucks a day.

Ouch. Have a good one.

You too.

I’m spry yet retired. I reside in the inner city of a major metropolitan area of the United States. I read politics. I watch baseball. I hum along with the tune. I June swoon, and moon the bad poem. Post here, are old and new. Opinions are my very own, except when wrong.

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