PATRICK MCVAY

WRITER

My Musings

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Tambourine Man

If I were to announce that I have never fantasized of being internationlly renowned as the greatest tambourine artist in the world, well, you can imagine that most people wouldn’t believe me. I clearly have the body type for it. I also have the stamina.

For those of you who think that body type and stamina are irrelevant when it comes to tambourine playing, let me assure you that that many tambourine artists with raw talent never make it to the next level because they lack either stamina or the critical body-type factor: short-fingered, paunch in the midsection providing the right dampening effect for certain styles, amply endowed derriere against which to smack the tambourine skin for maximal sound. Traits like these have long made the finest tambourinists. (Go ahead, look it up.)

Just to be clear, I’ve only imagined being the best tambourine artist. I’ve never actually played one.

But if I did…

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Daily Haiku

 

Cats oft’ void their guts.

They cough out fur balls. They puke.  

We tread carefully.  

 

College Tuition

We dig ourselves a deep hole

Need a second job.

 

Now that I’m sixty

People think I’m a wise man

Probably, I’m not

 

I’m in my Fifties

But tomorrow I’m Sixty

Will need a sports car

 

My PCP Says

“Keep doin’ what yer doin’”

Prob’ly I should not

 

It’s St. Patrick’s Day

We eat beef that has been corned

Whatever that means

 

Robots and A.I.

I will make use of these soon

To do my taxes

 

Strange Oscar night end

Pacino failed to mention

Best pic nominees

 

Who’s this Katie Britt?

Scary. Wierd. We could have used

A Trigger Warning

 

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