Semi-Daily Scribbles

So after the Swing Sisters rope and yodel their way through the dictionary with harp and hand saw, a palate cleanser is needed. Ah, I spy the goddess in position under the harsh, hot spotlight. She's a spray-painted vision in red. The goddess spins on pedicured toes and recites Joyce in her nasally voice and all is well with the right hemisphere and the left. Anyhow, it's all a show above and below. There's only one way to get to the top. Dig deep.