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Kentucky Fried Liver? | News, Sports, Jobs

FRED MILLER Two grandsons, The 747 and Lamppost Head, happened to be staying overnight with us on the day that Honey cooked liver and onions for the first time in her life. The 747, boy of action, put a forkful in his mouth and reached an immediate conclusion: “Yum!” Honey told me to slice some liver real thin for Lamppost Head because he has trouble chewing meat with his retainer and braces. I sliced and diced some, mixed in slivers of fried onions, put it in a little bowl and slid it across the table to him. Lamppost Head, thoughtful boy, took a bite, chewed it meditatively, took another, and spooned in the rest.

Goodbye Sausage Nose | News, Sports, Jobs

Feb 8, 2021 “The nurse said not to take the bandages off for 24 hours,” my wife scolded. “What part of ’24 hours’ did you not understand?” “Hmmm, well, I saw that as more of a guideline,” I replied. “I’m a fast clotter. The bleeding had stopped so I didn’t think the bandages were really needed anymore, and this way more healing oxygen gets to the wound.” “You just wanted to see your nose,” Honey said. “If your sutures get infected, it’s your own fault.” Of course I wanted to see it: the surgical repair to my nose, the stitches around the skin graft above my right nostril, and the chunk of skin returned to fill the scabbed-over divot between my eyebrows. For three weeks I have had to wear a skin graft feeder, a strip of my own living, bleeding forehead tissue, laid across the bridge of my nose. For three long weeks I had to go out in public looking like I had a Vienna sausage strapped to my face, and the COVID mask didn’t even cover it.

I (Angry Face) Emojis | News, Sports, Jobs

FRED MILLER I woke up this morning thinking about emojis, which is very disturbing because I hate emojis. I was thinking about them because several members of my beloved family were taunting me – yes, taunting, and worse, in a pitying way – during an exchange of cellphone texts which I confessed I could not understand. Emojis were involved. “Poor father, he’s so old and out of it,” was the general tone. I was so disturbed that I had to go out and chainsaw down a tree to regain my normal sunny disposition. Then I got online to do a little research into emojis, to see whether I am justified in loathing them. (I wonder if there is an emoji yet for “loathe.”)

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