Seek And Ye Shall Meditate on Writing, 5/21
Hi--it's your ol' pal Dick Urethra here. (See last posting, below.) Hey, so I was saying on the blog that I was thinking about doing an Immigration Monday thing. Put in my two cents' worth and all that. I talked to a couple of you, and I emailed my Mexican Consul General cuz Enrique, and I checked in with Warrior the Friendly Border Patrol agent, and I even talked to a lit blogger or two to see if it was a good idea or not. And guess what--The Washington Post suddenly wrote and asked me to do a killer immigration piece...due Wednesday! What!!! Wednesday!?! This sounds way too much like work to me, since I'm basically watching Oprah, reading the new Lee Child thriller, listening to Black Sabbath--the Ronnie James Dio years--and lounging around naked with my wife. Look, I was just talking about being Mr. Immigration again! I didn't really, like, you know, mean it.

Funny how the universe listens and whomps you with your own inspiration, innit?

Of course, I am thrilled and honored to be asked, so I'm on it. I imagine it'll run on Sunday, so if you get the chance, take a look at Sunday's Washington Post and see how much trouble I get myself in. It might be fun to kick off Immigration Monday by posting the insane and badly-typed hate mail I'll get if I suggest in any way that Mexicans are human.

Or Border Patrol agents.

This turn of events put me in mind of a pithy li'l meditation for you writers and poets and readers and gardeners and love-makers and preachers and walkers and moms and birders and workers today:

"Work is prayer. Work is also stink. Therefore, stink is prayer." --Aldous Huxley

Let us recall what the holy St. Beau Jocque of zydeco fame used to sing: "Is it stankin'? Can you really make it stank?" Uh! Yow! Dance the two-step, y'all. I'm STINKIN'!
XXX, after a shower, Luis

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