Frog Applause by Teresa Burritt for August 11, 2022

The skin color of a radish ranges from white through pink, red, purple, yellow, and green to black, but the flesh is usually white. The roots obtain their color from anthocyanins.

I remember when radishes were just white or red.

It’s hard to keep up with all the changes and choices available as I get older.

Radish roses and conehead of lettuce. Jack and Jill Alien threw a nice Buffett and catch that relish tray to, to, relish over.

That’s a Roger Clemens pitch to The Mighty Casey.

The alien handbook…

I drink soda on the sofa…

I drink pop on the pot…

Very important phone calls.

Don’t flatter yourself toots; the aliens have bigger fish to fry.

Radishes are wonderful, but for some reason I have never been able to grow my own that didn’t taste like a Carolina reaper.

The radish to crouton ratio in the salads served by the Bath Mat Factory cafeteria was off. I blamed it on the uneven slicing of the radishes, of course. The lady at the Froglandia Bath Mat Factory complaint line was very supportive. I felt as if my concerns mattered, and that I was not just a bit of gravel on the road beneath their wheels. I stayed on the line for a brief survey, and gave her all 10s on the 1 to 10 satisfaction index questions.

Grind your gears? Girrrrll that just grinds my…..you know…some of those little buggers are hot to trot! I’ve gone through bunches so hot, it sent me to the moon…. and now I’m hiding from the encounters of a third kind ….sssssh! I think I heard something….

I know, right? Learn some knife skills, puleeese.

The aliens will find you both by following the scent of radishes. They don’t care whether or not they’re evenly sliced, though.

Radishes became my garden’s zucchini this year. I was forced to sneak around in the dead of night, leaving bags of the red rascals on neighbors’ doorsteps.

Couldn’t Contestant Number 2 just line her hat with aluminum foil?

Talk about grinding gears, I miss manual transmissions … and not having to think twice about typing that …!

( can you still say “miss” …? )

Another five minutes of needless exposition followed. If you need that much exposition, your story is poorly laid out. But hey, adults telling their story are like dogs chasing squirrels. They go from point to point, stopping to mark things occasionally, and barking half the time. I waited him out. When he ran down, I asked how I could get back into the Bath Mat Factory without anybody knowing I had been gone. This is where it got weird. He started talking about time slices for interdimensional realities being like radishes and how alien realities imposed by his device could not normally be applied, but how his device opened quantum tunnels to allow packet forms that were not possible in our reality, but could exist in probably realities. He went on and on about how we cannot actually imagine and create, only observe what is, which though it lay beyond our current reality, was still visible to the mind, which is only loosely bound to our physical reality. When he finally wound down again, he said we could make me into a speedster, who could casually stroll back to Day Care at a rate of speed making me invisible to casual observation. He assured me that the effects were temporary, and he really wanted to see if there were residual and cumulative effects, or if I would experience the same level of effectiveness and duration as a first time user, and applying a single imaginary asset. I thought about the blood spray and brain splatter in the garden, right away.

John Candy speaks thru Teresa (this explains a lot).*

* Actually it doesn’t explain a lot – I’m just trying to up my non sequitur game to Level Space Cap’n.

Petty grinding would seem a wasteful and pointless endeavor, but the resulting porridge actually makes a wonderful poultice for when the aliens are done with you.

SAD NEWS—

I have just learned of the passing of our dear friend margueritem this morning. R.I.P.

[Regular comment later on.]

Ever heard of a slicer. There not that alienated sister or cuz.

A lady whose biggest gear-grinder is unevenly sliced radishes is way too sensitive for a simple guy like me. And I wouldn’t expect a phone booth to hide me from Aliens, either.

In short, as far as I am concerned, these are both Loser Ladies!

…in college, to make money, Al worked for the government overhearing other people’s conversations…

…awkward moments of people’s truths…

…in the hopes of finding what?…

…terrible radish slicers…

…alien survivors…

…blah blah blah blah blah…

…AI just wanted to hear about terrorists…

…and revolution…

…once AI even heard a mystery called Frog Applause…

…now that was something…

…NFT’s …

….the fFrog was made just for them…

…or was it NFT’s were made for the fFrog?…

…one thing is for sure…

…this world is messed up…

2 completely different conversations

I’ve been told my slices are very even, boom chicka wow….

Superman phone booth to the rescue. Exposed Again ladies.

Alien Radish at large.