The last time that the midget approached me, she was filled with anger and derision.  Pointing her finger, she accused me of selling ice cream that in no way resembled ballet flats, espadrilles or platform heels.  I explained, or thought I explained, no one, NO ONE has called me that since Meemaw passed away and now it’s too late.

Not to worry, I’m holding up as well as can be expected.  My tarot indicates that a return to the salt mines is in my future.

Doo dah, doo dah.

And now I’m being accused of gongoristic.  Now is that nice?