Tag: pony party

The Point!

Everything’s Got ‘Em

Harry Nilsson

Everybody’s Talkin’

Spanky and Our Gang

Sunday Morning

I am full of illogical streaks and inconsistencies broad enough to drive a semi-truck through. Sometimes I like to believe that it is the philosophical burps that lunge forward, that define me. I like , no love hockey, but football mostly bores me. I like Bluegrass and honky tonk, but that “pop country” stuff makes me want to get an enema. I like muffins and bread pudding but stick a raisin in either of those and my head will explode.

  I am going to be overly literal for this edition of Pony Party. Some of you might, like me enjoy, taking pictures. This Pony Party is an invite to all of you to share some of your favorite pictures. I have had my coffee, I am awake and kicking, and eager be to be cheery and annoying.
  You know, like Katie Couric, only poor, with no television audience, and possibly slightly more coherent politics. Her problem is not that she is super-establishment, she is too blurry and unaware for that.

We get up fairly early but if there isn’t any coffee in the house, panic, chaos, and a sense of impending doom fill the house. In fact, when I go to visit dear old Mom who drinks coffee as an occasional treat, I have to remember to bring my own coffee. I am originally from Southern Ontario where a chain called Tim Horton’s is king. My husband was pretty astonished to notice that not far from my mother’s house were two Tim Horton’s directly across the road from one another.

Several years ago, Golf Digest
gave the odds of an amateur getting
a hole-in-one as 1 in 12,750

I don’t think there is anything worse than being stuck in traffic. There’s nothing worse than being behind a Sunday driver on a Monday morning in rush hour. In the left lane of a four lane highway. Coming up to lights with BIG trucks in front of both lights.

Or driving to the beach for a glorious week… dreams smashed as your everyday world anger and frustrations exlode, full blown, sitting in the car, in traffic…and your older car threatening to overheat. And then, and i really loved this, having my ex husband tell: BE HERE NOW.

Be… here… now… BE HERE NOW? No no no… you don’t understand. I don’t want to be here NOW…

You gotta pet peeve. Throw it out there… come on… pony it UP…

Let me start off this fine, fine morning by saying that I am not monkey-obsessed, nor do I intend to invite monkeys exclusively to the Pony Party.  That’s not how I do.

Answer: these 2 tigers:

Years ago, I lived on my boat at Squalicum Harbor in Bellingham, WA.  The boat was way, way out at the end of the dock – next to the breakwater on the end, in a physically huge basin.  There were other boats around me, but I was the only one nuts enough to be living out there on the end, at the time.  I was awakened one morning by the whack of something on the hull.  Whack.  Long pause.  Whack whack (from different sides).  I start to fall back asleep.  WHACK!

Not his best speech, or the best video montage, but it struck me today as I watched.  It’s the same choice now, I think.  Basically.

I saw the happy lemurs in the earlier pony party thread and the discussion of whimsy, and almost took this down!  But it’s one of those moments in our time where the hinges creaked, the door moved open or shut, the world changed.

Good morning!!

They appear in the essay column, and due to their frequency and the additional open fora that will appear on the Front Page (more on that later), are meant to scroll away.  So please, don’t recommend the Pony Party essay.  I know it’s tough.  We’re nice people, and we like to give acknowledgment.  Trust me, we won’t take it personally.  But you know who might?  The person who gets bumped off of the Recommended Essays list by a Pony Party.  Put yourself in his/her shoes.