Jan 2018
(I wrote this light hearted communique years ago when thy youngest of deux darling demure offspring found more enjoyment then she would as a soon tubby celebrating nineteen orbitz round mister Sun).
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Just my luck on a freaky Friday, while living in another world unfettered from the parent trap that a life-size machete conveniently available to fend off mean girls racing in their life-size love bug christened “Herbie fully loaded” while cranking up the song “ultimate” somehow found me to get a clue that raven-symone a prairie home companion.
Please pardon this bard of Belmont hills for brazenly barging into your life – without even so much as a gold plated invitation. The nerve of this nattering nabob of Narberth to perform a google search in an effort to pay homage to such smart as a whip wealthy woman, whom maintains lustrous beauty even whence approaching the half century longevity chronological benchmark.
A whim to scribble stream of consciousness thoughts about the mother of one constantly caught in the infamous cross hairs of media blitz krieg must induce chronic ferocity against this plague of tabloid locusts.
Such scrutiny seems to be the price one (and/or her/his kith and/or kin) must unfairly pay to be in the limelight of fame and fortune.
As one absolutely anonymous any man ambling along the boulevard of broken dreams, I envy luxurious lifestyle of the rich and famous as all my children (two teenage daughters) freely scamper away from dark shadows indicating the edge of night as the world turns.
Also, no great expectation (by dickens) goads me (an ordinary mister mom manning the ongoing – nearly infinite – needs and wants of thy fourteen and twelve year old lasses, whom contribute immensely to a more purposely driven life no matter they present untenable wishes.
Back in the day when this papa could afford plethora of fios cable channels, but mainly thru the subtle influence of thine younger offspring (who will celebrate her thirteenth anniversary of existence on this temporal plane or rather oblate spheroid in space), I chanced to watch television programs with Lindsay Lohan as one (if not) the leading actress(es) and found the characters she portrayed quite entertaining to escape the cares and concerns of an uncertain global state of affairs.
These days, aol headline pages incessantly splash with minor infraction(s) that inevitably lands your lovely Lindsay incarcerated for mere misdemeanors no doubt stoking the fires of fervid frenzy within your being.
Only heartfelt commiseration found me to tap out this missive (while a golden opportunity existed to co-opt our only macbook – while the spouse soundly sleeps and thy progeny preoccupied with interpersonal connections) to express said sentiment of compassion and adulation for a most superlative maternal role well done.
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Just my luck on a freaky Friday, while living in another world unfettered from the parent trap that a life-size machete conveniently available to fend off mean girls racing in their life-size love bug christened “Herbie fully loaded” while cranking up the song “ultimate” somehow found me to get a clue that raven-symone a prairie home companion.
Please pardon this bard of Belmont hills for brazenly barging into your life – without even so much as a gold plated invitation. The nerve of this nattering nabob of Narberth to perform a google search in an effort to pay homage to such smart as a whip wealthy woman, whom maintains lustrous beauty even whence approaching the half century longevity chronological benchmark.
A whim to scribble stream of consciousness thoughts about the mother of one constantly caught in the infamous cross hairs of media blitz krieg must induce chronic ferocity against this plague of tabloid locusts.
Such scrutiny seems to be the price one (and/or her/his kith and/or kin) must unfairly pay to be in the limelight of fame and fortune.
As one absolutely anonymous any man ambling along the boulevard of broken dreams, I envy luxurious lifestyle of the rich and famous as all my children (two teenage daughters) freely scamper away from dark shadows indicating the edge of night as the world turns.
Also, no great expectation (by dickens) goads me (an ordinary mister mom manning the ongoing – nearly infinite – needs and wants of thy fourteen and twelve year old lasses, whom contribute immensely to a more purposely driven life no matter they present untenable wishes.
Back in the day when this papa could afford plethora of fios cable channels, but mainly thru the subtle influence of thine younger offspring (who will celebrate her thirteenth anniversary of existence on this temporal plane or rather oblate spheroid in space), I chanced to watch television programs with Lindsay Lohan as one (if not) the leading actress(es) and found the characters she portrayed quite entertaining to escape the cares and concerns of an uncertain global state of affairs.
These days, aol headline pages incessantly splash with minor infraction(s) that inevitably lands your lovely Lindsay incarcerated for mere misdemeanors no doubt stoking the fires of fervid frenzy within your being.
Only heartfelt commiseration found me to tap out this missive (while a golden opportunity existed to co-opt our only macbook – while the spouse soundly sleeps and thy progeny preoccupied with interpersonal connections) to express said sentiment of compassion and adulation for a most superlative maternal role well done.
