Rules of the Road: Possibly interesting related material but not necessarily factual (or yes it is a journey into absurdity):
As a father I eagerly awaited my daughter’s sixteenth birthday when she could get her driver’s license, and for the same reason most fathers do. Because, she can drive me from bar to bar and then home again while I explore the vagaries of intoxication. Girls do the best driving job in regards this exacting responsibility. Teenage boys tend to be too irresponsible.
Explaining to my daughter the Rules of the Road, I spotted and so pointed out to her an older woman on a moped, a Vespa (the bike's a Vespa not the lady). I told my daughter, “Be careful: moped riders have been known to track down and pulverize or even kill anyone that dings or dents their bikes. So, if you have a fender bender with a Vespa driver -- whether you want to or not -- you have to do all you can do to finish the moped driver off or they’ll get you. I keep a jar of leeches, a monkey wrench from Macedonia, and a speech on liberty, freedom, and human rights by ISIS on the end of a javelin.”
About last October Clause's back fur was thickening in anticipation of winter, but he went to Florida, where he shed like crazy. Hell, he was almost hairless and nearly froze to death when he got back to Maine in December. As a good father, I used this experience to educate my daughter: “Watch out for this regional translation difficulty,” I told her, “make sure you gotta a good heater in the truck when you're dating anyone just back from Florida.”
I informed my daughter at an early age that the turban U.S. women wear after getting out of the shower was invented by a guy named Singh. The Female Shower Turban is made out of a simple bath towel. Who would have figured it when looking at a cotton gin? Huh? Well: O’Brien Singh was a Sikh from India, a plumber in Charleston, SC, who never got a buck or a rupee for his gift to American women, though his attitude was this: since he was married to a lady from Rhode Island for thirty-two years he more than got his money’s worth (and then some since the woman was actually from “Miles and Miles of Rhode Island”) and everything was fair and square. In America, we feel a special bond with fully-clothed Sikh-American cab drivers as we see them at work, and many of us love naked women too …
Please give to Breast Cancer Research Foundation, 60 East 56th Street, 8th Floor, New York, New York, 10022/ firstname.lastname@example.org/ 866-346-3228
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Looking for editor to help choose and edit short stories for self-publishing on-line. Can't pay squat (unless I have to) but will give percentage of any future earnings. If you investigate this website (or buy a copy of Otis Moon) and find merit in my work please contact me. We've had app. 20k hits so far this year (by "we" I mean my son and I) on this website: Carbuncle Moon. I can be reached at P.O. Box 172, Winterport, Maine, 04496, at this time but only for a while longer as I am just divorced. I will post further contact information as I have it.
If there is a literary agent that is interested in my work I have three novels near completion and app. 50 plus short stories to draw upon. I also have a second Moon novel underway. I can work and travel.
Thank you for your time.
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James Foley found the truth of ISIS within the savage murder of a noble human being who was in pursuit of the truth.
A suicide can't change his mind after the fact but it would be a good thing for everyone -- for all of us -- if Robin Williams could.
Michael Brown's death was tragic and unexpected. The resulting explosion in Ferguson was tragic but expected. Because: "Bad treatment makes men mad." - Ned Kelly
Rest in peace fellas...
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Kevin O'Kendley is the owner of Carbuncle Moon, and the author of all original material on the website (there has been a very limited editorial input in some of my work). Quoted sources are noted. I am responsible for all posts.
Kevin O'Kendley: P.O. Box 172, Winterport, Maine, 04496, and 200 P Street, A-32, Sacramento, California, 95814, email@example.com.
Technical help is provided by an evolving computer genius, my son, Conor O'Kendley. A good kid with a great heart who can be reached at P.O. Box 172, Winterport, Maine, 04496.
Photography provided by a visual artist, my daughter, Caitlin O'Kendley, a young woman with a beautiful soul.
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