Waking Up in
A Just-Buried Coffin
To: Lolita Lark

Re: Folio #29

Liked the latest Folio very much. Read it cover to cover immediately. As usual. On receipt. I thought the Angel's wink was heaven sent.

I too seem to be invited to a lot of funerals recently.  I don't go. My theory is that if I don't see friends off they are not gone, they are just away.  Or AWOL.

I understand that long ago a small bell was mounted above graves. Corpses later disinterred were observed to be in all sorts of tortured positions. Mouths agape. Arms and legs akimbo in the shrouds. Seemingly clawing at lid. Or shrouded corpses laid out giving a little yell or moan. Writhing. Rising up.

Caused people to fear being buried alive. Trapped like rats in coffin under a six-foot dirt stack. Hard to budge from a prone position.. Hard to breathe. Bell had a string running down to the coffin interior.

Figured if coma burial happened the presumed corpse could jerk the cord and ring the Time Out bell. Designed to alert graveyard ghouls that a sentient or insentient something might be down there...

......rotting gases from decomposition cause muscle spasms and belches and little cries, lifted arms and mouths formerly peaceful but now agape.  If a corpse yelps in a coffin is it a silent sound? You bet! Like one hand clawing?

Wonder how much term insurance is nowadays?

The only difficulty is of course Nelson' Algren's Three Rules:

    Rule 1: Never play poker with a man named "Doc;"

    Rule 2: Never eat at a restaurant called "Mom's;"

    Rule 3: Never sleep with anyone who is more screwed up than you yourself are.

Personally I follow big trucks in my car at nite.  Trucks that go 55 and have luminescent tape outlining rear top and sides.

--- Paul Nickel
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To: poo@cts.com

Subject: Songs of Wild Birds

Loved the Songs of Wild Birds review!

My favorite quotes have to be:

    A Virginia Rail could be that woman in your office who is rattling on nonstop about her kids, her husband, her mother, her mother-in-law, the office manager, and --- when you are not there, they say --- you.


    The Atlantic Puffin looks like you in the mirror after last night's housewarming party where you wowed them with your George Bush imitations.

As for making lunch out of things that stink up the place, wriggle underfoot, or buzz in your ear; while I have never actually used these ingredients, everything I cook seems to come out tasting like I did. Culinary lessons sorely needed.

--- guttermth8@aol.com
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