Frog Applause by Teresa Burritt for March 31, 2019

Mind your own business.

It will probably end in tears.

You are on my lonely mindLast night I walked the floorAnd the night beforeYou were on my lonely mindIt seems my life is throughAnd I’m so dog gone blueYou are on my lonely mindI’m gonna keep drinkinTil I can’t move a toeAnd then maybe, my heart won’t hurt me so*There’s a tear in my beer*‘Cause I’m crying for you, dearYou are on my lonely mind,

Hank Williams Jr

And here I was worrying about what you’d think about my net worth.

Well I’ve cried a river over you.

They’re such a couple of sad sacs, aren’t they?

Crying all the time.

Crying over you,

Crying Havoc and letting slip the frogs of war!

Studying lacrimal sacs?

Not surprising, considering it looks like a brachycephalic symbol.

the sacs of yesterday and the sacs of today….

and all fools day tooomooorrrooowww …

what is the plan stan? my calendar rule…

turn the page james,,,, march is leaving like a lamb….

follow mary to school on her ship of fools…

Sac Simper Tearannus!

DASH - spaces on each side

HYPHEN

The 5th Avenue is a candy bar introduced in 1936, consisting of peanut butter crunch layers enrobed in chocolate. It is produced and marketed by The Hershey Company. The bar is similar in composition to Nestle’s Butterfinger candy bar. Wikipedia

@*Brass Orchid* Wowzer, I stepped on a star mole running around Froglandia, it was obscene and it required I get help from a frog tek. That will teach me huh, not to look where I am trekking around.

Don’t cry for me, arch sardine-a.

Don’t cry over spilled fish in the sea.

You have to pay to get in, but its free to leave.

Well, you’re both in a perfect environment for that.

Oh? And what have you found? You know, some people are quicker to tears than others. I don’t know if that corresponds to stronger sentiments, or something more anatomical, more prosaic. Crying is a release, much like laughter.

Oh, never mind that. I’ve just been slicing some onions.

Don’t cry for me Lame Tuna.

Tuna fish can tuna piano. Canned tuna fish can’t. Toucan cry if you want to. Toucan’t and neither can tuna. Fortuna, it is not importuna, to each their own tunabilities and tunablenesses. Some things are not tunable, and can not be learned in school.

Such a Mahi-mahi mamma … or is it Mamma Mahi …?

Good to know. What were the results?

Poor old Johnnie Rayfish. His sweetheart sent him a letter of good-bye.

Nosy fish! We don’t need no stinkin’ nosy fish!

I’ll cry if I want to. I am not lacking lacrimal functional apparatus, thank you.

Fine (if fishy) art sells the Lame, but, still, discretion is the better way. Babbling bubbling brooks are bad enough without their being stocked with indiscreet fishies.

But this is Sunday! Friday is fish day. I call Lame!