The Storm Is Coming, Guy from Michigan

A storm's a'comin'.  Too many apostrophes.  Too much folksiness.  I don't have a down-home way of speaking.  Some people do, and that's nice as long as they're saying things I want to hear.  Once a guy from rural Michigan told me that I sound like a dictionary.  A dictionary, of course, does not speak unless you waterboard it, but I don't think that guy meant it literally.  I think he meant that I sounded uncool.  Additionally, I failed to wear my baseball cap backwards.  That was a sad day.  But a storm is still coming, a tempest, a low pressure front, nature's fury (nature: an abusive mother).  It will have a way to make everything equal.  Being uncool will not matter, if it ever did.
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The Storm Is Coming, Bird

A storm is coming.  Brightly feathered, getting their last-minute singing in, the birds know it.  The birds know a lot of things, a lot of songs about things, but mostly songs about sex.  Birds sing to get laid, like Andrew Bird, who also whistles with the same purpose.
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The Storm Is Coming, Blue

There is a storm coming.  It is blue.  It is bluestone.  Like that girl I once knew plus lightning, it is pretty but not nice.   I can tell this by its voice: a low rumble, threatening, indifferent.
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The Storm Is Coming, Fly

There is a storm in the distance.  The sun is hot on my sleeves, hot on my arms, and won't be around for long.  A fly tries to bother me.  Wait, fly.  Wait for the storm.  You will feel its fury, and your tiny little wings will be still.  You will see an infinity of drops.  Your disease will be washed away.  You will be a clean fly, a rebel, washed of poop, although that may have been your snack, and maybe you will be extremely frustrated.  I don't care.  I swat your kind.  I shot a rubber band at your mother.  Whatcha think about that?
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Three Links

Three Links seems to be as good a way as any to ease back into this thing. I've never really gone two months without blogging before. Maybe you think it's because I've turned boring. On the contrary, my friend, I've turned so exciting that every time I've touched a computer's keyboard it tripped a circuit breaker (on laptops the battery just caught fire -- that hurts the junk something fierce -- mine now looks like Nick Nolte's face, minus the teeth of course).

These are interesting bits, alphabetically by subject matter:

Angel Food Cake

Making Beautiful Things

Rectangles of Sod

Okay. I've done my part. Now you do yours.  And yes, I'm typing this in a non-conductive rubber suit.  It's hot.  I know, but literally.
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