Tuesday, March 26, 2013

I Chewed Through My Own Tongue

I know that many of you have been wondering why I haven't posted any new Coyote Tracks lately.

Well, to explain things the best I can, the PC police came to my house in the mountains and tortured me for thirty days and thirty-five nights.  Without my permission, I might add.  They strapped me to a mauve lawn chair in the basement and force-fed me cream of wheat with sprinkles for breakfast, lunch, and dinner; and for midnight snack, washed down with a mix of Red Bull and Mountain Dew.  They also made me watch reruns of Oprah, Ellen, Pierce, and The View until I screamed for mercy, begged them for relief, and promised that I would never criticize these sacred intellectuals again; even if it meant chewing through my own tongue.
Well, I did chew through my own tongue while I was busy biting it.
And, as a result of my compromised condition I've recently been going through stem-cell therapy at a secret Oregon location in hopes of regenerating a new tongue, and reclaiming the courage to use it.

Oh, and I’ve also been busy working on a couple of other projects which have been taking the lions share of my time.  But I hope to be finished with them in two or three weeks, and back to giving you more of the kind of oblivious illumination you’ve come to depend on me for.
Hang with me.