1974. Fallen off the edge
© Bruce Goodman 20 October 2020




That bull outside our window has mooed ceaselessly all night and now it is horse.

Hoarse, son, not horse.

Same thing.

No it’s not. It’s spelled differently.

I’m saying it, not spelling it.

Typical youth of today. You can’t read. You talk talk talk. Or failing that, you text everything and spelling doesn’t matter.

Aha! Aha! Aha! I’ve been proved right!

How so?

That bull just had a baby and it’s a foal. So there!

There’s only A difference between foAl and fool. And bulls can’t have babies.

I give up. You’re just an anti-transgender racist. Totally illogical. And you are homophobic and use plastic. Xenophobic ageist! Come back when you can think straight about gay people and the legalization of maruwanja marjuieguiba maruawana canabas pot.

At least I’m not hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobic.

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