Frog Applause by Teresa Burritt for January 25, 2019

Red, white or yellow?

But it all ended in tears.

Together they had the best of time. He was a Chef and the pet was an onion, soon rings were in their future.

Ogres have layers.

Arriving home was uneventful. Getting off my leg was the most pressing matter. Looking back, I could see how my steps were uneven in the snow as I tried to keep the weight more on one side than the other. It reminded me of a supervisor I once had, whose style of management in a union shop was to berate and drive the people who were actively working rather than to try getting the free riders to contribute. But that was another life, far from Froglandia and was well shelved and ignored. Just another old injury that the cold brought to the fore. Can’t dwell on those, after all. The frozen Froglandia winterscape is actually more hospitable and contains more nourishment for the mind and soul. Safely indoors, I began to remove the layers that kept hypothermia and frostbite away.

Putting together all the clues—it was Colonel Mustard in the conservatory with poisoned coffee. The unlucky fellow flew the coop when the kid saw him open an umbrella inside the house. The little stool pigeon blew his socks off when he made the killer face the music!

Valencio Vidalia

Art imitates life (or is it the other way around? (I can never remember))

http://tinyurl.com/FridaFA

Arkansas Motto*: “Proudly following trends established by lame cartoonists since 2006.”

* Not a real motto

A hard days rain is a gonna fall.

And he wore it on the right side of his belt, which was the style at the time.

…and Marcel Proust had an haddock.

Everybody’s got something to hide, ’cept for me and my onion.

Go to jail. Go directly to jail. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. Boys don’t cry.

Your luck has run out. You once had a leg up, but now you’re just getting the boot. No time for sax, tea, or tears. The cardinal has turned, umbrella blown away. Bang Bang, she shot you down.

I’ll take refrigerator magnets for .400, Alex.

Was it like an Ogre?

His friends had backed away from him when they found that he has bad breath..

That’s nice.

Unless you’re an onion. Then, it can be read as rather threatening. Or, if we eschew text (“hors text”), the silhouette ideograms spell out a message even more disturbing and disturbed.

Let’s just hope that horseshoe is more lucky than lame….

I don’t like rain, or snow, or hail

Or Moby Dick, the great white whale

But, mmm, I love onions

I don’t like shoes that pinch your toes

Or people who squirt you with a garden hose

But, mmm, I love onions

Onions, onions, la la la. Onions, onions, ha ha ha

Root toot doodle-ee-oot doot doo doot

Onions, onions, la la la. Onions, onions, ha ha ha

Root toot doodle-ee-oot doot doo doot. Yeah!

The onion is a tuberous vegetable and is a member of the genus stinkus delicioso. It was highly prized by the ancient Egyptian pharaohs, and their friends and cousins-a. They cause watering of the eyes and rubifaction of the skin, but it is very, very tasty. (huhuh)

.

I Love Onions

Susan Christie