Rhapsody. Chapter 601.
In literature, a rhapsody is a written work consisting of disconnected pieces composed without form or plan.
Sound familiar? I am thinking about recording audio books after I get my new, unrelated website up and running. Details to follow, maybe next week.
It is the 100th anniversary of one of my favorite songs, “Rhapsody in Blue.” Only a churl dislikes Gershwin. I sometimes whistle it when I am puttering around Chez King.
I am at Ralph’s-on-the-Park. The whole place reeks of money. The carnival class is here. In two hours, Eric has already gone through three gallons of brandy milk compared to a typical half gallon a day. The room glitters with Rex medals.
Today is not a good day to be hungover. I am not talking about myself. I am not hungover. Far from it. I just had lunch with Mrs. King. I am light on my feet in love.
Botulism was once known as ‘sausage poison’. The bacteria that cause it are usually associated with spoiled tin cans, nowadays.
The singular of bacteria is bacterium, in case you were curious. It is like data and datum.
If this reads like a Charles Forte book, it is because I am reading the newspaper and musing. Just the kind of Mardi Gras news you want to be reading today. I know.
Mrs. King and I went to the Endymion parade last night.
Let’s duck behind the paywall, shall we?