Wordless Wednesday . . .

. . . but only for five seconds.

Barkless but not action-less.
You watch the boring fickle weather
and watch your boring big, black brother . . .

. . . and anything that moves
I don't care if it's just a speckle of dust . . .
and I will spring to action!
Just to awaken my bored nerves . . .

I mean you don't really expect me
to go wordless, clueless and lifeless
even if it is Wednesday, do you?

You do?
Anyway . . .

Creepy Crappy Wed, Part 2

Okay make that Creepy BER Months . . .
It is now the BER months
in case you didn't noticed
in which case, HELLO!!!
Are You Awake??
Knock, knock!!

My inbox was full with inquiries about Yvon.
People, please use my comments box!
You are filling my eMail box!
And I hate opening it.
Those spam mails makes me creepy.

Anyway . . .
remember Yvon's chopped trunk?
I mean the trimmed trunk?
I mean her separated body
and cut torso?

Not bleeding exactly.
Call it liposuction, tree version.
Trees need to trim their torso
to reshape their twigs
grow more leaves
admit more sunlight . . .
Trees are trimmed period.
There's Yvon on left and Chicky on right
and below is Tirso's Assistant
practically drowning in all those leaves!

And now you ask:
what did the recycle freaks in Heaven
do with all those chopped trunks?
A sculpture perhaps?
A SuperDog Chair perhaps?
An eclectic lamp post?
This is where it went:

. . . orchid holders!
Those tall, long elegant trunks of Yvon
delegated as tuttie-fruttie plant holders!
How undignified!
What shameless recycle!
Totally un-artistic re-use!

And lookit -
The Shameless Creator -

. . . probably laughing at herself
and her inane ideas!
Shame on you, old lady!

And look what Luchie found
after diving through that backyard:
. . . balimbing fruits!
These are cute star-shaped fruits
that taste like stinging hooha.
Keeper likes it too.
But we don't have a balimbing tree!
But you see, our next door neighbor has:
. . . and Tirso trimmed that too!
I mean, ForBarkingOutLoud
the tree-butcher trimmed the neighbor's tree!

Now you see, we are on difficult times.
The global weather goes erratic.
The world economy goes ballistic!
I am now eating on top of the table . .

. . . in between my siesta!

And through all these freaky events
my big, black brother Bogart . . .

. . . remained wordless.

. . . but alive.

Black, dark, drooling beast
is still alive.

The full Moon and the BER months.
What potent energy!


  1. Bogart is not clueless.
    Bogart simply has nothing to say.
    So unlike some of the ageing pups I know who barks a lot and probably inherited that from his Popsy. I should know.

  2. Hi, Sweepy!
    Yes... not exactly a wordless post!
    Kisses and hugs


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