A Bad Case of Vietnamese Swamp Stomach


This week's blog entry will be brief. I'll spare you the details, but a lot of staring into the bottom of a toilet bowl is involved.

More you don't want to know.

I had planned to feature a new, never-before-published short story narrated by none other than Mama Hog herself today. But I don't trust my ability to arrange words competently. For instance, the preceding sentence originally read 'Mama hog story narrates colon, frees the threadbare geese', so finishing and editing anything more complicated than this blog entry that will have to wait until next week.

The Mama Hog story, which is nearly complete, is entitled "The Swindled Jenny," and I think you'll enjoy Mama's version of just desserts.

After that, Mug will have his turn, in a regular feature of the blog called 'Sidekick Sundays.'

But for now, I'm going to slink back downstairs and rest.

The only silver lining to all this, I suppose, is that I actually put on and zipped a leather jacket I bought around 1984. Yes, that's correct, 1984. The last time I tried it on, I couldn't bring the front within eight inches of closing, much less of zipping.

And now I'll be wearing it as my retro motorcycle jacket. It'll also come in handy if I turn into a zombie and need to take part in a Michael Jackson zombie 'Thriller' dance, because baby this jacket ROCKS the 80s.

Let me close with a shameless plea -- if you've had a chance to finish the new Markhat, Brown River Queen, and you liked it, please drop me a review on Amazon. I'd really appreciate it.