apocalyptic torrents

rain with pea-sized hail with nearly horizontal wind with virtually no visibility with flooding with sheets of driving rain with rain upon rain upon rain upon rain did I say rain? raining down upon us in downtown Syracuse eddying whirlpools of urban riverine flow lacustrine lustre water you know watery wending of drops upon buckets of rain

hanging by a thread

Last evening, as I sat at my desk, not eating any curds or whey, I spied a spider easing itself down on its string of tensile strength, before my very eyes, shocking and, well, scaring me -- big baby.

I was dazzled and amused. And threatened. Or perceived myself as threatened.

I waited until the spider landed on my desk and then smushed it, with the bottom of a box of tissues.

There have been times I've carried a spider outdoors, rescuing it from my primal fears, my unfounded savageness.

Not this time.

And I don't have a good explanation.

So, forgive me, Universe.

Forgive me, Spiderdom.

Have mercy on me and my foolish fears, O Threadbare Web of Existence.

Confessions of a Twitterati

I admit it.

I've been Tweeting.

It's pretty addictive, or can be.

But I've managed to control it.

Right.

@kocakwords

Seeya.

off the rack

tying one on; these are the ties that try men's souls

ties, redneck, and neckless

tiething

About a year ago, I wore ties on consecutive days.

I almost started another streak today.

But I wore no tie.

Can't say why.

Too springlike?

An iota of rebellion simmering in the blood?

No reason?

One love.

Will using the title "tiething" for today's post bring flocks of evangelists proposing that you tithe?

going postal-less

The sign at the Carousel Center post office glass door says [figuratively speaking, because a sign can't talk]:

THE POST OFFICE
IS PERMANENTALY CLOSED.

Maybe email did 'em in.

Or spellchecking.

You didn't even warn us.

I'll miss you, and the convenience [another word that spellcheckers love] you gave me, and the occasional blogger fodder [remember the Aussie who put me down royally? What did she call me, "ya mongrel"?].

Why close that branch, with its weekend and evening and holiday hours and social intercourse?

At the nearby Division Street branch I later heard talk of high rents and mandated repairs.

Close THE POST OFFICE entirely everywhere everyday. After all, it's the federal government. Give the tea partiers a run for their money-less. No taxes! No services! Anarchy! Solipsism!