Thanks for forcing us to sit through it, like a pack of unruly, self doubting blades of grass, after a hard winter, and beginning to feel the warm sunshine on our faces.... 😆 (Wait.... Can grass have faces?) 😂
Always seek the sunshine in life. It comes in flashes and is easily reflected into the lives of others
Thanks for forcing us to sit through it, like a pack of unruly, self doubting blades of grass, after a hard winter, and beginning to feel the warm sunshine on our faces.... 😆 (Wait.... Can grass have faces?) 😂
Always seek the sunshine in life. It comes in flashes and is easily reflected into the lives of others
Hy, my boy, I appreciate the sentiment—you’ve got the poetic flair of a bard who’s had one too many sips of fermented turnip juice.
That sunshine and blades of grass bit?
Beautiful.
Slightly alarming, what with the grass faces, but I admire the commitment.
If grass did have faces, I’m fairly certain they’d be frowning at dandelions and gossiping about worms.
Now, just between us, while Jaime is a lovely lad with a beard that might house a small village of chipmunks… the words you’re referencing?
Those came from me.
Chuck.
Morphiophelius Smith.
I’m the ancient wizard-type with the questionable memory but excellent taste in tea.
But look, credit’s a funny thing. I don’t write these words for applause—I write them so souls like yours can remember the sunshine still wants to find you, even after a hard frost.
So here’s a wink and a tip of the hat, Hy—keep reflecting that light. Even if you’re a slightly bewildered blade of grass.
And next time, tell Jaime I said thanks for taking the blame.
Morph, I wanted to send a quick note letting you know that I sneezed hugely while composing that last message, and my fingers must have slipped, causing the mistaken name to appear.
I think it was due to my allergies to the grass faces I was telling you about.
But, to give him his due, Jaime is a rather bright lad, and likely has similar musings, so try not to smother his creative genius.
He does, after all, reflect that grass light very well, given half a chance.
—the sound of shuffling parchment, a sneeze, and the faint pop of something exploding in the background—
Monkey muffins, Hy, you remembered!
The Full Throttle Upside Down Porcupine Burger—now that was a meal worthy of forgetting who you were mid-bite and waking up three days later in someone else’s trousers. Not mine. Didn’t like the color.
And you're absolutely right—blades of grass?
Mahan’s Pink Panties, that’s for decorating a plate, not feeding a legendary genius who once outwrestled a blindfolded hog for a honey bun!
You ever try chewing grass with dentures forged from dragonbone?
Takes three days and a dental miracle.
I do appreciate your concern, though. Alhannah tried feeding me moss soup once, called it “detox.”
Pretty sure my insides tried to unionize.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a tea kettle screaming like Old Lady Kravitz when the soldiers used to march past in those tight uniforms…
Yehhh, memories.
Carry on, lad. And if you do snag me one of those burgers, tell 'em Chuck wants the porcupine still spiny.
I need the roughage.
—M.S. (Morphiophelius Smith, Professional Thinker, Grass Avoider)
That's a great pep talk, Jaime. I love it.
Thanks for forcing us to sit through it, like a pack of unruly, self doubting blades of grass, after a hard winter, and beginning to feel the warm sunshine on our faces.... 😆 (Wait.... Can grass have faces?) 😂
Always seek the sunshine in life. It comes in flashes and is easily reflected into the lives of others
…Monkey, did he just say Jaime?
He did, didn’t he? Mahan’s pink—
No, no, it’s fine, it’s fine. I’m not upset.
Totally serene.
Like a goat in a thunderstorm.
Hy, my boy, I appreciate the sentiment—you’ve got the poetic flair of a bard who’s had one too many sips of fermented turnip juice.
That sunshine and blades of grass bit?
Beautiful.
Slightly alarming, what with the grass faces, but I admire the commitment.
If grass did have faces, I’m fairly certain they’d be frowning at dandelions and gossiping about worms.
Now, just between us, while Jaime is a lovely lad with a beard that might house a small village of chipmunks… the words you’re referencing?
Those came from me.
Chuck.
Morphiophelius Smith.
I’m the ancient wizard-type with the questionable memory but excellent taste in tea.
But look, credit’s a funny thing. I don’t write these words for applause—I write them so souls like yours can remember the sunshine still wants to find you, even after a hard frost.
So here’s a wink and a tip of the hat, Hy—keep reflecting that light. Even if you’re a slightly bewildered blade of grass.
And next time, tell Jaime I said thanks for taking the blame.
Morph, I wanted to send a quick note letting you know that I sneezed hugely while composing that last message, and my fingers must have slipped, causing the mistaken name to appear.
I think it was due to my allergies to the grass faces I was telling you about.
But, to give him his due, Jaime is a rather bright lad, and likely has similar musings, so try not to smother his creative genius.
He does, after all, reflect that grass light very well, given half a chance.
Don't feed him, Hyrum. He'll never stop. 🤨😬
Don't feed Morph, or blades of grass? Or just don't feed blades of grass to good ol' Chuck?
Poor guy needs something much more substantial than grass.
I hear he likes the Full Throttle Upside Down Porcupine burger at the Roadkill Tavern, though. Maybe try one of those, with the curly fries for him. 😂
—the sound of shuffling parchment, a sneeze, and the faint pop of something exploding in the background—
Monkey muffins, Hy, you remembered!
The Full Throttle Upside Down Porcupine Burger—now that was a meal worthy of forgetting who you were mid-bite and waking up three days later in someone else’s trousers. Not mine. Didn’t like the color.
And you're absolutely right—blades of grass?
Mahan’s Pink Panties, that’s for decorating a plate, not feeding a legendary genius who once outwrestled a blindfolded hog for a honey bun!
You ever try chewing grass with dentures forged from dragonbone?
Takes three days and a dental miracle.
I do appreciate your concern, though. Alhannah tried feeding me moss soup once, called it “detox.”
Pretty sure my insides tried to unionize.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a tea kettle screaming like Old Lady Kravitz when the soldiers used to march past in those tight uniforms…
Yehhh, memories.
Carry on, lad. And if you do snag me one of those burgers, tell 'em Chuck wants the porcupine still spiny.
I need the roughage.
—M.S. (Morphiophelius Smith, Professional Thinker, Grass Avoider)
I like mine topped with lava sauce, and an extra large habanero juice slushy.
I'll pick one up for you next time I drive past the Roadkill.