Bad Cold by Shel Silverstein

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  This cold is too much for my shortsleeve. Go get me a Kleenex--and fast. I sniffle and wheeze And I'm ready to sneeze And I don't know how long I can last.... Atchoo--it's to wet for a kleenex, So bring me handkerchief, quick. It's--atchoo--no joke, Now the handkerchief's soaked. Hey, a dish towel just might do the trick. Atchoo--it's too much for bath towel. There never has been such a cold. I'll be better off With that big tablecloth, No--bring me the flag off the pole. Atchoo--bring the clothes from the closet, Atchaa--get the sheets from the bed, The drapes off the window, The rugs off the floor To soak up this cold in my head. Atchoo-- hurry down to the circus And ask if they'll lend you the tent. You say they said yes? Here it comes--Lord be blessed-- Here it is--Ah-kachoooo--there it went.

Finished Reading: Samuel Johnson

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Finished reading Samuel Johnson’s insulting carefully crafted letter to Lord Chesterfield in 1755. Commonly called “literature's ‘declaration of independence’” Johnson quietly rails his patron for his help that came seven years too late. Johnson published his Dictionary without Chesterfield, paving the way for writers to publish without patronage. Chesterfield prized the letter. The most caustic line of the letter is: “The shepherd in Virgil grew at last acquainted with Love, and found him a native of the rocks.” Why was it so insulting? It should have remained in Latin. 

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