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About Me
- Payton L. Inkletter
- Fool's Paradise – Infinity on a Shoestring Gender: Male (last time I looked); Writer; Thinker; Studier of the Human Condition (and chickens' entrails); Wonderer; Laugher; Listener; Character; Recent Optimist; Part-of-the-Solution Aspirant; Sarsaparilla, Cocoa, and ex-White Black Tea Imbiber (no sugar - plenty sweet enough); Twenty Eight Thousand and Twelfth Living Wonder of the World; Amateur Worm Farmer Extraordinaire and Professional Worm Admirer; Humus Assist and Humorist; Play Up; Yes-Hoper... And I reckon: Reality is actually far better than the best any of us can imagine, the universe is friendly and funny, laughter is a powerful medicine as well as an efficacious antidote for self-importance, and the best is yet to come, despite any and all appearances to the contrary...
2 comments:
My word, that Koala sure has been places and done everything — sitting down of course,
And who is his dresser? Such clothes! He must have a royal designer to keep him so suave and fashionable. Oh, that I might get his autograph — nay, autograph on a photograph!
Gladys: You speak words of one who is not only wise, but also astute. I not only have been places and done everything, I know everything as well. And yet, notwithstanding, despite and even so, undeniable convergence and striking apparent congruities aside, my wardrobe, as breathtaking and illustrious as it plainly is, is but a poor indication, a pitiful reflection, nay, a mere silhouette of a pale shadow cast to an impossibly distant horizon of the wonderful, unique, nay, one off, bear of a man that I am. To meet me is to love me, to become yet another smitten kitten.
My couture consultant is also my apparel assistant and habiliments helpmeet, none other than the alabaster dragon, the spendthrifty thistle, the succulent scattergood, the voluptuous vixen, the frilly-knickered lizard, yay, none other than the irreplaceable reprobatable Missus Inkletter herself, of whom it is said, in hushed tones of incredulous disbelief, that when she was made the mould wasn't exactly thrown away… nay, rather, it was hurled into an active volcano, and it put it out, saving thousands upon thousands of lives, only to live on in fear of the new protoplasmic vulcaness. I know whereof I speak…
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