I met a drunk scribbler in the old town saloon
Carving limericks into his table
Bells rang in the steeple of the church right next door
As he etched as profanely as a cowhand is able.
I bought him a drink, put my hand on his shoulder
And observed aloud the dry humor
Of a man in his cups next door to the sacred
Chiseling rhymes as crass as a rumor.
He looked over at me through two yellow eyes,
frowned and then answered with passion,
"If I chose my art badly, it is no less inspired
By your interest and kindly compassion.
"I believe that if I were surrounded by demons,
A psalmist, I might be, I think.
But here, as I sit, among harping angels
Better satire I inscribe and whiskey I drink."
FELLOWSHIP, n. The company of spies.
Fellowship: Best friends and double agents.
I've never even heard of T-Bone Athanasius. How ever did on-set curmudgeon find his long-lost works?
FELLOWSHIP, n. A slave galley.
Fellowship: What the Nina was to the Pinta and the Santa Maria.
You lie for Frodo was no spy!
fellowship - thinly veiled reason to pry and gossip
Our local Fellowship seemed to have a lot of harping angels.
Perhaps the angling harpies were at the Methodist singles club.
Not being of the church, Star Wars comes to mind. Like the vessels of Columbus, only airborne, faster, and possibly more equipped for destruction.
That and those Middle Earth creatures.
T-Bone Athanasius. I don't see that a t-bone resembles the trinity much.
Judging by that poem you've been drinking with my ex-.
I'm glad you showed up. I was ready to die of heartache and gloom caused by airborne Middle Earth creatures.
Beer? Clueless? Perhaps something stronger ...
Stronger? Should Brother Bierce spend a few minutes updating his blog roll.
I mean really. Why encourage HARPIES to intrude in your life?
If this heartache continues, I'll be unsympathetic.
My On-line Urban Distionary says,
"harpie - 1 definition - Savage, monstrous wimged females. Flock together to attack unwary males on internet talkboards."
Just saying, that lets me out, the female part that is.
So I'm still in the fellowship. I was worried there for a minute.
Speaking of, Nessa, good to hear from you.
Karen, you've never heard of the great fourth century blues theologian?
Amoeba, that phrase still reminds me of Asimov's Galley Slave, 30 years later. I had no idea before reading that story what life in the academy is about. Since then I've learned that's what life in the academy is about.
Smeagol love bottleses!
There you go, Tilden! That's where I was pointing.
That's where I find them, Weirsdo.
Bless your vegetarian self, Cooper, in the name of the filet, the strip and the dog bone.
Quilly, that isn't impossible.
Karen, heartache is for sharing.
Jim, you're a lifetime member.
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