WAYS OF CULTIVATING KNOWLEDGE
Scholars esteem knowledge not for its use in attaining other values, but as a value in itself. —Max Eastman, author & poet
Know.
Weigh.
Hoe.
Say.
Scholars esteem knowledge not for its use in attaining other values, but as a value in itself. —Max Eastman, author & poet
Know.
Weigh.
Hoe.
Say.
In order to have great art, you must have great audiences.
—Walt Whitman
Good luck with that
because you can lead
a bore to culture
but you can’t make
a silk purse out
of a sow’s rear.
Avec plaisir!
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The last 3 lines are a play on the old saying “You can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear.”
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You can make a nice leather purse out of a sow’s rear, though.
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That may be where the term “filthy lucre” comes from.
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Ha ha!!!
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Please try to restrain yourself – this is a serious matter. If Walt Whitman appreciated levity being made of his quotes, he probably would’ve spelled his last name without an “h” – ha ha . 😦
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I’m not sure what you make out of a sow’s rear… bacon?
You’ve now ruined Walt Whitman for me as he will forever be Walt Witman and I will never take anything of his seriously.
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Don, what you make out of a sow’s rear is one of those questions to which you probably don’t want to know the answer (although what a sow makes out of her rear is another matter altogether).
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Me thinks me heard a splash
Hard by yon lily pad;
Me thinks me saw a toad or frog
(Or was it a crawdad?).
Who told that toad to shake a leg
Or seek a change of venue?
Never, ever, would I put toad
Or frog legs on my menu.
Verily, I am but
A harmless nature lover.
When I am nigh, or passing by, why
Must they always jump for cover?
What bound fools we mortals be
Who cling in spring to mother earth,
When we might swim or fly away
To live ‘nother day for what it’s worth.
So hear ye, fellow slow pokes
Such as tortoises and snails,
Let us sing a song to our friends
Long gone….so long, and Happy Trails.
nice and interesting poem… I like frogs, so toads, as well… 🙂
@”Verily, I am but
A harmless nature lover.” – me, too, Sir… 🙂
P.S. off-topic, with your permission, Sir: have you ever heard of the international jazz festival in Marciac, Gers, France that takes place every summer since 1978?…
http://www.jazzinmarciac.com/
I was there last weekend and I took a few pix of this small town that I could send you – if you agree, of course… thanx in advance for your attention and reply! respectful regards, Mélanie NB
The only French jazz festival I’m familiar with is the one in Nice….probably because it dates back to the late 1940s, and I haven’t kept up with the proliferation of jazz festivals in recent decades – not that I don’t welcome any and all venues that keep classic jazz alive (I’m not really much into bebop and so-called progressive jazz).
I would be delighted to view your pix, either “exclusively” or as part of one of your fine postings for all to see.
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“Truth is riddit and riddit is truth.
That is all ye know on earth and all ye need to know.”
John Croaker
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Jack and Jill went up the hill
To fetch a pail of water.
Jack fell down and broke his crown
And Jill came tumbling after.
–Old English nursery rhyme
Doesn’t it seem odd that Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water? A water well is seldom found on top a hill, and streams flow downhill, so why climb uphill for water which could be fetched below with far less effort? It seems that the English had a penchant for verse that makes little sense, as epitomized by 19th Century nonsense-verse masters Lewis Carroll, W. S. Gilbert and the subject of my May 12 post, Edward Lear.
Well, what’s good enough for those three
is more than good enough for me,
so for the third or more post in a row,
with nonsense verse I shall go:
JOE & WILL AND JACK & JILL
Hello, Joe! Whatta you know?
Hello, Will! I don’t know Jack. Whatta you know?
I know Jack. Do you know Jill?
Jack and Jill from up the hill?
I thought you said you don’t know Jack.
I don’t know Jack; I know Jack and Jill.
Say what…you will: if you know Jill, you know Jack.
Say what? You Will. I Joe. I mean, I’m Joe. Just so you know.
I know you Joe! Now back to Jack…
I don’t know Jack. Why bring up Jill ?
So ends our tale of woe, and of Joe & Will
Who don’t know Jack and never will.
Not if nine months later
Jill broke water
And had a son or daughter
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“Jack and Jill went up the hill
Each with a buck and a quarter
Jill came down with two fifty.”
That’s the way I heard it.
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That would seem to make more cents, Don.
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Andrew Dice Clay already had his fifteen minutes, men. If I had to pick somebody’s career to resuscitate, his would be way down on the list.
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The name sounded vaguely familiar, but I had to wikipedia Andrew Dice Clay to refresh my memory and get the connection. It seems that in 1989 MTV banned him for reciting “adult nursery rhymes.” So now I recall he was a foul-mouthed stand-up comedian with no discernible redeeming qualities. R.I.P. (even though he’s still among us).
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I have heard the occasional attempt to claim “Jack and Jill” as a political satire. I forget the details, but I’m skeptical. My gut instinct is that trying to read nonsense verse as political satire is often assigning a meaning that wasn’t in the original writer’s intent. Nonsense is appealing because it is nonsense.
Fellow writers,
I implore us —
It’s time that we be
More decorous.
I don’t mean to
Be a censor,
But we must be
Less intense, or
Readers will grow
Tired of us an’
Then we really
Will be cussin’ —
So, forego frickin’
Words that shame us,
And stop being an effin’
Ignoramus.
I am in favoring of abolishing all euphemisms, so intercourse that!
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“There ought to be a room in every house to swear in.” -Mark Twain
But there already is such a room: the INTERCOURSE room. Where else is God’s name taken in vain so much? O GOD!!!
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Muse, I know you’re not referring to me as I strive to never offend anyone, at anytime and when confronted with a word that might do such a thing I use _____________.
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I certainly take you at your word, Don (but I’m not so sure about Dr. Don).
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May 9 is LOST SOCK MEMORIAL DAY — the day we commemorate an inevitability we can all relate to: the sock you can’t find a mate to. You can search the floors and rummage through your drawers, but….well, let’s face it. It’s the dreaded….
CASE OF THE MISSING SOCK
Ozone hole, black hole,
Mysterious holes in space —
As a whole, no hole can match
The Great Sock Missing Case.
I faithfully put
Pairs of socks in the laundry —
How one of those pairs comes out
One-half pair is a quandary.
I look here and there….
I look everywhere —
Needless to say, there’s no trace.
One sock gone is weird —
Man, it just disappeared….
I mean, like it ain’t no place!
If it’s happened once,
It’s happened a bunch;
I wish I had the answer —
If only to post
It was spirited by the ghost
Of a dispirited one-legged dancer.
Whatever’s to blame,
Each theory seems defective;
It’s time to size up
The whole thing like a detective.
So, since we never lose
Underwear, shirt or blouse,
Logic says there must be
A socklifter in our house.
Thanks for the Kool-aid — I mean, COOL AD. Maybe that’s the answer — every once in a while, a sock just decides to take off!
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It has been theorized that the spin cycle of the modern washing machine is capable of opening a wormhole through space and time. Someday, we will find a cave drawing of a Cro-Magnon person wearing one of your socks. Where he chooses to wear it we can only speculate.
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As long as he didn’t rummage through my drawers for it, I don’t care where he wears it….my socks are one size fits all.
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Actually, other things go through the worm hole where Aliens from other Galaxies sell them in flea markets. The only difference is when they take our underwear or T-shirts we don’t have a lost other so we don’t notice.
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Don, that sounds so logical that maybe I should worry about losing a certain body part other than my eyes, ears, arms and legs (maybe my nose, maybe – who knows?)..
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I hadn’t had the word ‘socklifter’ before, but have now.
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It’s a word I might have shoplifted from the subject of my next post (tomorrow), but I plead guilty to inventing it myself.
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OK, April 28 technically isn’t Judgment Day — it’s GREAT POETRY READING DAY. Whether it’s a day for reading great poetry, as opposed to a great day for reading poetry, I hesitate to say. In any case, I’m writing it, not reading it, so you be the poem’s judge (keeping in mind, I might add, that I live on a two-way street in the city of Recipro — should you ever find yourself in need of Reciprocity of the unsolicited praise kind):
IS THIS GREAT POETRY, OR WHAT?
The power of suggestion
Is that it begs the question.
Lol..a bit twisted!!! fun though!!! 🙂
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I am stumped. What are you trying to say here, mistermuse?
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Thank you both. Michaeline, there’s an unwritten (or maybe it’s written) rule in humor that if you have to explain it, it’s not funny, so never explain your jokes. As I said in my April 21 post (WHAT’S SO FUNNY?): “A joke that cracks you up, I may not get” – and vice versa, as in this case. So let’s just chalk this up to different strokes for different folks, and let it go at that. 🙂 or 😦
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How about a post devoted to great poetry about Judgement Day? Even as we type, the beast slouches towards Bethlehem to be born.
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A lot of blood has gone over the dam since that WWI era poem….including the Second Coming of a World War. Now it’s the Third Coming that raises the specter of Judgment Day. I’ll keep you posted as long as the human condition remains comical.
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Judgement is coming and sooner than we all think.
The correct response to Michaline is this one.
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“Send in the clowns. Don’t bother, they’re here.”
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Your works are reallyy goodd 👏🏻👏🏻
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Thank you — maybe there’s something to this “power of suggestion” thing after all! 🙂
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Michaeline, I thought your first comment referred to my post as a whole, not just “that little poem.” It’s funny how easy it is for people to misunderstand each other, ain’t it…but it’s not so funny that wars have been fought over misunderstandings that get people with attitudes all bent out of shape. 😦 🙂
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I know how to spell your name, it’s true….
But I’m not sure how you pronounce you.
‘Tis a rhyming challenge with needs phonemic
To offer birthday wishes free of seeds polemic.
So I thought I would try a phonetic 3-way
And hope you’ll cede me a soupcon of leeway:
Happy birthday to my blog friend, Michaeline,
Whose age sets the stage, with old vintage wine,
For a toast to that well-traveled Ms Michelin,
Who retired ere tires were invented, way back when.
And last, but not deceased, I salud! Micheleen,
Whose birth day was a feast day on this day in 1915.
Be thee 100 years (less or more),
May there be another 100 in store.
mistermuse, what a lovely poem that uses my name in so many ways! I am thrilled that you wrote this for me. I did not expect anything like this and I am so grateful. You are so very special to me as a friend,collegue and mentor. I certainly will carry this wonderful message with me throughout my day. Thanks you very much for your efforts and your thoughtfulness. 🙂
You’re more than welcome, Michaeline. Glad you enjoyed it.
Oh….and by the way,
Have a great b-day.
(Or, as the French say:
Have a great bidet.)
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To even attempt to rhyme “Michaeline” requires more than a soupcon of hubris, Sr. Muse. Congratulations for carrying it off. And Happy Birthday. Ms. M!
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Gracias, Ricardo. You’re right about requiring more than a soupcon of hubris – it also required several trips to my trusty thesaurus….but, all for a very good cause.
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Is this our Michaeline from that other site whose name I won’t mention here? Happy Birthday Michaeline!
And, well done Muse.
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Her name does sound vaguely familiar, doesn’t it, Don? In fact, I think I hear romantic music playing and someone singing something to her, trying to remember:
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I just checked this post again and saw the birthday wishes from Ricardo and Don. Thank you! I liked that song mistermuse. I noticed the band leader’s last name sounded like a Polish one so that is even more appropriate since my family emigrated from Poland many years ago. That was very sweet of you, mistermuse; you made my day!
(Posted May 22, 2015)
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This was a British band on a British record label, but Herman Darewski may well have been of Polish ancestry. In any case, I’m glad you liked the song (which was written by Americans!).
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Did you ever notice that when you put the words “THE” and “IRS” together, it spells THEIRS? -Anonymous
It’s April 15th — tax day in America. If you haven’t already done so, it’s time to reward Uncle Sam for the fruits of your labor — even if you claim you hate your job (sour grapes are nonetheless taxable).
In this country, the job of collecting donations to the federal government falls to the IRS — AKA the Infernal Revenue Service. In years past, I (like many other nightmare-lovers) have often opted to procrastinate up to the last day to prepare my tax return. Not so this year — as you will see when I relate a brief but curious conversation I had this morning with my neighbor, Max, over the backyard fence:
“Hello, Muse!”
“Good morning, Max.”
“Have you done
your income tax?”
“Taxing though
it be to say,
know I did
it yesterday.”
“Did you take
your deductions?”
“I deduced
for reductions.”
“Four reduced?
I laud your feat!”
“I took off
both hands and feet.”
“That’s the way
to keep ahead!”
“Yes, I used
my limbs in stead.”
“Instead of
head? Way to go!”
That’s the way
to save some dough!”
“Have you done
your income tax?”
“Good day, Muse.”
“Good morning, Max.”
I coughed up a couple grand yesterday. Don’t feel like writing a poem about. it.
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I don’t blame you, Ricardo. In lieu of a poem, how about this: 😦
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It might have been cheaper and easier to give them the pound of flesh.
I gave them a few hundred but I don’t mind. I’d rather have had my hands on my money. They give you a refund but they don’t give you any interest for having the use of your money.
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I used to feel the same, Don, but rates are so low now, the interest on a few hundred “don’t amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world” – not that I give a hill of beans, because the older I get, the less money interests me (as long as we have enough for our needs (admittedly, loosely defined).
April 11 is Barbershop Quartet Day, a subject about which I wrote a notable and (if I do say so myself) astonishingly brilliant post a few years ago on another site. Un-four-tunately, said post is no longer to be found, so today, I was considering trying to rewrite it as best I could….but, then I thought that even thinking about trying to replicate so lovingly inspired a piece is too painful. It’s like, alas, the flame has fleed, love’s labor’s lost, and that is that. So let’s not talk about….
OK, then, what else should we not talk about, you ask? This post must not be something about nothing. As a matter of non-fact, nothing is something — the only thing — I’m in the mood to talk about. So, with apologies to Cole Porter,
Let’s not talk about this,
And let’s not talk about that.
If talk starts to leak from our head,
Let’s keep it under our hat.
And if we run out
Of things not to say,
Let’s not talk about
Not talking today.
Above all, let’s not talk
About high-minded things
Like art and philosophy
And celebrity flings.
For silence is golden —
At least, so they say….
But when they say it,
The gold they must pay.
So let’s not talk about this,
And let’s not talk about that.
Let Lithuanians and Letts do it —
Let’s fall in love….but don’t chat.
I too wasn’t a big Danny Kaye fan, but given good material, he’s very good….as in his best movie, THE COURT JESTER (1956). If you haven’t seen it, it’s well worth getting….but prepare yourself, or you’ll die laughing.
As for my talent, I thank you for your unsolicited appreciation. Your check is in the mail.
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You’d have to ask Cole Porter why Lithuanians (and Letts) do it, and he’s not talking since he died. However, those words are from his song LET’S FALL IN LOVE, so we can safely assume he’s not talking about talking.
BTW, for the benefit of readers bereft of Baltic knowledge, Lithuanians are Lithuanians and Letts are Latvians. As far as they’re concerned, Americans are probably barbarians (Stella and her Mommy excluded, of course).
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Even educated fleas do it.
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I hear even educated PhDs do it.
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I do not feel like talking. My legs are not fit for walking. Saw the doctor and then the PA. Here is what they have to say: Get thee to the MRI! We like to run tests by and by. We will find something wrong. Take out that gall baldder, because it ‘s wrong. I did not call to make the test. My husband did but I resist. I do not feel like talking any more. Try to test me and I am out the door~~~~~~
Your poem is funny, in my opinion….which reminds me of the patient who told her doctor she wanted a second opinion. “No problem,” the doctor replied. “Come back tomorrow.”
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“Birds do it. Bees do it.” and they don’t have to talk about it either.
But Muse, one good turn deserves another.
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Don, I’ll take a Holiday any day. And Cole can be my Porter any time too.
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Michaeline Montezinos 11:03 am on June 15, 2015 Permalink |
mistermuse, are you trying to speak a bit of the language known as Spanish? I thought your poem read as “No way, Jose!.”You are inscrutable at times which makes you an interesting person. I wonder how you manage to do that bit of “magic.”
Could you do me a favor, please? My silly computer or that demon Facebook somehow deleted your e mail address. I searched but could not find it any where. I just wanted to let you know my medical issue is being resolved and all looks good. I am waiting for the DNA results now. Hopefully, I will feel better soon and can pick up on writing my short stories.
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Michaeline Montezinos 11:08 am on June 15, 2015 Permalink |
Now I am curious about Max Eastman. Going to look him up in my book titled PHILOSOPHY FOR DUMMIES. I bought it at the Barnes and Noble store near the Tri County Mall years ago when we lived in Ohio. Too bad so many book stores closed down in that area. However, one can see those people in nice dresses and suits on a hot day clutching their bibles. No lack of those books, my friend.
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mistermuse 3:15 pm on June 15, 2015 Permalink
As you know, Michaeline, there has been a whole series of FOR DUMMIES books published. I don’t have PHILOSOPHY FOR DUMMIES, but I do own INSCRUTABILITY FOR DUMMIES, which should satisfy the wonder expressed in the first paragraph of your first comment.
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Michaeline Montezinos 3:14 pm on June 16, 2015 Permalink
I meant no harm in referring to the work of the Jehovah Witnesses I admire their ability to go from door to door and simply asking if I had heard of their desire to spread the Good News. I would not give up my weekends getting ready to march in my Sunday best (meaning a dress.) I can’t picture any of our men neighbors wearing a suit and a tie while body pressing about 20 pounds of Bibles and literature., got to give them credit for their dedication and commitment. 8^ }
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Don Frankel 11:11 am on June 15, 2015 Permalink |
Yes way Jose.
This one is priceless.
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mistermuse 3:36 pm on June 15, 2015 Permalink |
You’re right, Don – that’s why I didn’t bother to put a price on it. The last time I got paid for something I wrote, I died from shock and now write posthumorously.
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arekhill1 1:53 pm on June 15, 2015 Permalink |
Maybe Jose doesn’t want to be weighed.
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mistermuse 3:53 pm on June 15, 2015 Permalink |
Do you know the way to weigh sans Jose? You don’t need to if he doesn’t want to (be weighed).
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mistermuse 8:36 pm on June 15, 2015 Permalink |
P. S. to Michaeline: I forgot to mention that, as requested, I sent you my email address. When you email me, don’t forget to put an e-stamp on it, or it may vanish into cyberspace.
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Michaeline Montezinos 9:20 pm on June 15, 2015 Permalink |
I thank you again for the email address. I am going to have to buy a new notebook to keep my important email addresses in so I can find them without resorting to asking my buddies on this site. Dionne Warwick, I wonder how she is doing now. Last I heard she was on the boob tube trying to sell “psychic information” provided by those silly women who attempt to tell us our “fortuna.” Oops! I apologize for slipping that fish into my comment. Just fishin’ around trying to organize my desk and all my writing and research done in the past 20 years. I will certainly stamp your mail as I do not want my words flying around the edges of Cyberspace.
I am thinking of writIng short stories for a book titled THE MISADVENTURES OF MICHAELINE. Do you and every one else here think that is a good title???
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mistermuse 6:48 am on June 16, 2015 Permalink |
THE MISADVENTURES OF MICHAELINE has the sound of a good title (especially if the intended audience is girls of a certain age). If you’re writing for an adult market, it might still be a good title, depending on the nature and style of the writing. In any case, it’s a good working title to start with, in my opinion.
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Michaeline Montezinos 6:55 am on June 16, 2015 Permalink |
Thank you, mistermuse. You are the second person who thought that the title was good. She is my Friend and used to write for a local newspaper. Until she found out that although she was being paid, her copy was rewritten by an associate editor. He bent the truth to serve the local politicians.
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BroadBlogs 2:08 pm on June 16, 2015 Permalink |
I Know. the Weigh. to San Hoe. Say.
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mistermuse 3:31 pm on June 16, 2015 Permalink |
For those too young to know, here’s what you missed:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uiB02XWTwI4
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