Winston's feeling spicy

Howdy folks,

Winston here and I'M STILL NOT DEAD (don't tell Ruth).

Myron and I have decided to run away together. Ruth and Shinshina have been driving us bonkers lately, with their violas and vacuum cleaning. We've been on the road for exactly 3.1hours and 18 miles. Myron has to stop every half-hour to pee, so we haven't gotten very far. That may be a good thing since we still don't know where we're going. Myron wants to see California, but that's too flamboyant for my standards. I want to go feed ducks. Doesn't really matter where.

It's been fifteen minutes since Myron's nature called. I hope he didn't die. He has the car keys.

I didn't want Ruth to notice I left, so I've only brought the essentials: the duck cane, some whiskey, and some butterscotches. So far I've drunk 3/4 of the whiskey and eaten all my butterscotches. The duck drank the rest. Myron brought cash and what looks like a hammer-and-sickle flag. He likes red, he said. It's absurdly quiet right now. No viola, no vacuum, not even a - MYRON GET YOUR ASS BACK IN THE CAR!

Sorry folks, that's it for today. I have to go deal with something.

Love and hate from the west,



WINSTON MICERTON

Poetry by Winston

Once upon a time...

A witch fell into a well.

And as she fell

She remembered a spell

A special spell

That served her well

Whilst falling down the well.

Babadi-Babadoo-Jung-F-u

And dobadido dabandeet.

She levitated right through

Back up the well

And onto the street.

Life in the time of COVID

Howdy folks,

Winston here. It has come to my attention that we are amidst another plague. Wonderful.

No one seems to have caughtin' it in my neck of the woods, but Ruth insists on its existence. She can be a real nag when it comes to global crises. Apparently us elders are supposedly "high risk." Bah humbug! Of all the teenage gangsters and pestering girl scouts, this virus has decided to target the underserving!

Speaking of those girl scouts, they've been acting differently lately. Every day or so one of those orange and brown idiots scurries on to my front porch to offer their "services." Now, back in my day these so called "services" would be frowned upon but it seems like the term has changed over time. They basically offered to buy groceries and get the mail for me- as if I'd trust them with either of those. I don't know exactly what those punks are up to, but it certainly isn't from the goodness of their heart.

Life hasn't changed much for the two of us lately. I still go out on my rocking chair and listen to the birds. Ruth still nags. The only thing that's changed for us is our nights. Usually we go to the opera with Myron and Shinshina during the evening, but that of course has gone to hell. Ruth still meets up with Shinshina for their "power walks" though, whereas Myron and I just drink whiskey by the tributary. Just the other day I was heading out when these eggs started hatching. Ever since these yellow pests have been following me around all day long.

Before I leave, a word on this toilet paper disaster. Just don't use it! These Americans love shitting into clean water and wiping their ass with tree tissue. Then they expect you to pay for their  conservation charities to "save the trees" and "protect natural resources." How about you just shit in the woods like every other damn animal? You can wipe with the grass, thick sticks, socks, washable cloth, or a little water if you have to.

Nature's calling,

Winston Micerton 

Halloween

   Howdy, the name's Winston. Some of you fellows reading the words brought to you by the window browser may not know this, but today is February 19. And no, I did not buy Ruth a Valentine's gift. She bought it herself with the money she suspiciously collects on Sunday mornings. Today is the elder's Halloween. Although not always registered to the mind of others, there are two Halloweens in Oregon.

   The common Halloween for those punk kids is on October 31st, brrr. I get reminded of it every year. Ruth meets with her book club the last day of each month, I take advantage of those days by napping extra early after hiding her viola and vacuum. I was on my patched sofa when I heard my carved wooden door sounder being pressed upon in a badgering way. I open my door to see not one, not two, but SEVEN girl scouts on my porch. This time, it is not them selling dry cookies in exchange for currency, it is them awaiting for me to give them sweets for free, just because it is Halloween. I am usually with my pal, Myron during the end of the month to watch our plays, but he was getting a hip transplant. I managed to shake off a couple dozen of Ruth's butterscotches and almond joys from her fanny-pack.

 I am talking about the underdog Halloween in February. This is the Halloween in which us seniors do wild things, like staying up past 9:00 and drinking coffee. Ruth and Shinchina goes all in on buying clothing that is not on sale or watching television on a window browser website that goes to the name of "Netflix". It is a peculiar site. Today, Myron and I were going for a walk down by the river, when a van shows up. A man comes out of the van. He wore rather flashy clothing and walked with a sort of arrogance and bounce, Myron wanted a closer look in the inside of the van. As the man vanished into the Oregon forrest, Myron and I snuck into the large van. Inside was similar to the inside of a small home. There was extravagant accessories that Ruth would call "bling" all over the place.

When nature called, I used the blingy gentlemen's restroom. It was a home/automobile with a restroom, the toilet even flushed. I wonder where the product of my urination went after the water replaced it. At the sinking counter I came across a leather wallet, inside there was a picture of a woman with a rather large buttux with the name of Kim. The I.D was of a man named Kanye West, whoever that may be.

Love and Hate from the West,

The mystery of the missing rocking chair

   
      Howdy, as you most probably know by now, the name's Winston. I just woke up from my nap.

      Yesterday was as weird as Myron's lamps. I was about to sit on my rocking chair to escape Ruth's viola, when I went three feet below my favored destination. If it weren't for my duck cane, my bottom would have slammed into the floor of the porch. That would have hurt.  Anyway, for the next few hours, all I could think about was the question of "Who Did It?". Did Ruth sell it? Did the girl scouts take it hostage? Where could it be?

The restaurant with a side of UVA

   Howdy, the name's Winston. My apologies to my fellow war heroes, I mean readers, no, war heroes sound fine, that have not heard from the old Winston. Don't worry, I'm NOT dead, I think. What happened is that Ruth used our window browser bill on a new viola case! At least she's not vacuuming.

  Today I went to visit my great-niece, Rachel. Rachel is in college at the UVA university. I've accepted the fact that she chose UVA over the pride and joy that comes from the military. My great-nephew, Alex, knows what I'm yapping about. As I was saying, Ruth insisted we go to visit Rachel. Unfortunately, I had to leave the old duck cane in the cottage so that Ruth could make room for her viola.

 Once we arrived at "Virginia", I shuddered. I thought Virginia was in the South. It was freezing, I'm glad Stephen the duck cane was left in beautiful Oregon. Ruth spotted Rachel on an application on her cellular mobile. We went out to eat at some restaurant. My aging eyes could see once more once I observed that they had the chairs I designed by the window. Good for them! I insisted that we sit there instead of sitting at tables with chairs of lesser value.

 Ruth of course bought the most expensive meal there was on the menu with a side of fries. Good thing that I stopped eating years ago, or else, I'd be on the streets.

Love and Hate from the EAST!

-Winston

Sleeping Schedule

     Why hello there! As you know, the name’s Winston. I just have awakened from my afternoon nap. Wrong! I try to stick to my sleeping schedule everyday, but every full moon I seem to feel crazy and go to sleep when the sky tells me to. Unfortunately, I was only half asleep when Ruth (my wife) started her vacuuming. She never vacuums! It is almost like she times her vacuuming hours during my sleeping schedule. Anyway, I was awakened with a killing mood. So I visited my friend Myron. Here let Myron here start introducing himself! “Come here Myron!”. ( Be nice okay, Myron has an accent, he is from Kentucky).


       Myron:   Hi there! For all ya’ll folks out there, I would like to tell you Winston and I have been friends ever since I was in the nursery school-house also known as kinder school? “ Winston? How do the young people say ‘nursery school’?” “ One minute, let me call Ruth.” ( 5 minutes later) Kindergarten!  Thats the word i was look’in for. Anyway, I was born in Maine as a matter a fact, I moved to Kentucky when I was in first grade for the fourth time. I was really shy when I joined the military. I accidentally shot Winston. Not my fault! You can blame anyone you want but that was 100% the gun's doing.
                         Love and Hate from the West,
                Myron, Winston, and the gun's fault.