I didn’t mean to call you a mushroom. I just meant you’re a jerk.

(Self editing note to my English-teaching friends – the title of this entry used to be “I didn’t mean to call you a mushroom.  I just meant you’re a jerk that I don’t really like.”  However, I recognized the improper usage of “that” and the presence of some extraneous words.  Duly noted and corrected.) Today,ContinueContinue reading “I didn’t mean to call you a mushroom. I just meant you’re a jerk.”

It’s takes a snowstorm…

Since I’ve arrived in Arkansas, I’ve been called many things.  Yankee (both with affection and thinly veiled contempt), northerner, foreigner, import and my personal favorite, alien.  Small wonder, then, that I still don’t feel like I actually live here.  Sure, when I travel it feels good to come “home”, ie, to the place where IContinueContinue reading “It’s takes a snowstorm…”