Miss Begotten is one of my pet names for myself, for Southern Gothic reasons best kept to myself. Miss Begotten tries to speak plainly, but sometimes she tends to babble -- parenthetically, of course. It's never my intention to offend (and usually that's true - except on those [maybe not so] rare occasions when I mean it very friggin' much) but it sometimes happens, so if you're unusually easily offended...
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
By The Light Of The Moon
The moon is nearly full, kids. Rut-row. It was so bright last night that I didn't even need my flashlight while out walking the dog. Its light was preternaturally shiny-bright and exquisitely beautiful. And it will no doubt be even rounder, more swollen with light, and more beautiful tonight. But ... looks can be deceptive. There are things in this world that are beautiful to look at but will kill you in a heartbeat, like cobras and jaguars and pretty plants. And sharp, shiny things. Which is not to say the moon will kill you. It probably wouldn't, but if it got half a chance, who knows?
As you sit spellbound (assuming yours is one of those minds inclined to such flights of fancy) gazing upon its radiant light tonight, just remember that things aren't always what they seem. Sometimes they're less than they appear, sometimes they're more, and occasionally they're exactly what they seem. With the full moon, you take your chances. It's lovely. It's seductive. It's brilliant. And there's that shiny factor. But if you give it an opening in a moment of weakness, it can make you do crazy, crazy things. I'm not telling you to draw your curtains and hibernate 'til it wanes. I don't think it's that bad an idea, but there's claustrophobia to consider. Therefore, my best advice is to just be careful out there. Maybe stay inside and contemplate your safe shiny stuff.
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9 comments:
To me...Its a big Pizza Pie!
Or a cold-hearted orb.....
Blue Cheese?
yes
my palms
are getting hairy
wereblogger
¤ ¤ ¤
/t.
A green salad with a nice blue cheese dressing goes pretty well with pizza, Galen. It's a bit stinky, perhaps, but it's a full moon. Nobody cares. I don't know that the swollen orb is cold-hearted. I think it just is what it is and does whatever it does because it can.:)
I like the idea of werebloggers, /t. I can deal with hairy palms. Besides, they'd tend to sheath the claws, wouldn't they? Yeah, bring on the werebloggers.:)
How come every time the moon is full, all I can think of is that kid from "An American Werewolf in London" telling his mum, "A naked American stole my balloons."?
Maybe that is the REAL danger.
You've nailed it, Puggy. For every ill in the world, there's one common denominator -- naked American balloon thieves. If we could just catch them and get them dressed...:-)
Rut-row is right!
To paraphrase a sawng that g-man recalled....
"When the moon hits your eye
like a big piz-za pie,
that's a food fight..."
*ducking boos and throwd crusts*
Absolutely, Skunk. Somebody pokes me in the eye with a pizza, they got a fight on their hands.:)
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