I may regret this till my last day on earth, but I cannot keep it in any longer. If you love me perhaps you can attribute it to an attack of advanced senility. And once I have unloaded the thought I am not going to hang around and be pelted by rotten vegetables, so this will be short and not so sweet.
Like all the other bloggers whom I follow and admire hugely, I have always held Erma Bombeck in the highest of regard. The epitome of the female humor writer.......the guru of all of us who struggle through the mud while worshiping the pristine, glowing image on the mountaintop......hell, I think even the male bloggers may feel the same way unless they have replaced Erma with Dave Barry........but that is a different simile (or is it metaphor ) altogether.
What I am trying to say is, I recently ordered 3 or 4 of the Sainted Erma's books thinking I had not read her in years and perhaps a serious submerging of my muse into a bunch of Bombeck might make my blogging sparkle a bit. The truth is......I am finding myself very disappointed! There, I have uttered the words. You may stone me now.
What I am going to say next is even more sacreligious.........I do believe that some of my favorite bloggers are better reads than dear Erma. Now I must go and sit by the window to await the arrival of either the Mad bomber, the Death Squad or the Wagon from the Funny Farm. Farewell all.....remember me as I was, not as I am now.
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