Inkwell: Authors and Artists

    
ce may be forming on bridges and overpasses in the a-
  

    
ccordian filled evening. This music always brings out the best in pen-
  

    
insula matrons and their uncomfortable-looking tuxedoed spouses.  And char-
  

    
broiled steak makes them even happier, in my ex-
  

    
patriot days, we dined with the locals on a diet consisting entirely of st-
  

    
arch, slt and fat.  it's the American Way of Eating, and godddammit the e-
  

    

ver changing dietary needs of Amurikans has battery acid and nuclear waste
water becoming more popular as a suppliment to James Br-
  

    
own's I Feel Good Diet. In fact, after slugging back a bottle of
battery acid, you won't feel much of any-
  

    
one, which (for most people) is just as well, when you get right down
to it.

Speaking of diets, have you heard the latest fad? It's the low-
  

    
flying aardvark plan. Pretty much a slow starvation, since it's hard to
find low-flying aardvarks, but someday, somewhere, somebody is go-
  

    
osing production of the little buggers, and next thing you know it'll be all
over and you won't be able to turn around without whacking into one.

I guess, really, it's like Malthus said, "Population, when unchecked,
increases in a geometrical ratio. Subsistence increases only in an
arithmetical ratio. A slight acquaintance with numbers will show the
immensity of the f-
  

    
lab that accumulates when you go to a lot of holiday parties but don't ex-
  

    
ercise during the parties to avoid flab.  It's considered quite rude
to do Jumping J-
  

    <scribbled by ceder Wed 17 Dec 03 15:52>
  

    
ay in the warmer days of winter ewhen there are no birds to amuse
except the c-
  

    
aw, caw, cawing of crows and the chirrup of mad magpies hovering about the
chimney." Malthus, it should be noted, was stark rav-
  

    
ishing nekkid when he said that. He was in an inn in Innsbruck, at the
time, where he had been attending i-
  

    
nundation classes.  Hope this fog lifts, soon.  I want to flash that
new condo on the moon with a moon of m-
  

    
ythic proportions. Luckily, I'm no longer on Atkins, so my moon is en-
  

    
tirely made of green cheese.

And mice. Lots of mice up there, waiting for the right mo-
  

    
rning breeze to waft them away. That's why they've tied those Mylar
sheets to their tails, they're hoping to catch the solar w-
  

    
arp and weft, thus weaving themselves into the cos-
  

    
mic bliss and sail on to ne-
  

    
verland, where they have low-paying, dangerous jobs waiting on the Pi-
  

    
neapple People of Peru. Why are the Pineapple People dangerous, you ask?

They're dangerous because they've got sp-