Shepherd’s Delight

Something occurred to me about the phrase “Red sky at night, shepherd’s delight. Red sky in the morning, shepherd’s warning.” It promises so much, yet delivers so little. The suggestion of cosmic forces, tainted skies of fate and impending doom, I should be in some fantasy novel. This should be our comet of ice and fire. Our skies around Mordor. We should be facing an orc army or…dragons? Bloodshed? Both? I guess it is Westeros.

But what do we have in it’s place? Otherworldly predictions? Not so much. More like refracted light. And that impending doom? A fucking weather forecast. For shepherds. In case of rain. And not acid rain. Not snow. Not hail. Not fire and ash cascading from the heavens. Regular old rain. God damn it shepherds.

– Dave

Dave

This is Dave. He has no eyes. He looks a bit like a cross between a turtle and a muppet. He enjoys dressing up.He has a slight wheat intolerance. I’m also pretty sure he has no feet. I like him.

Like anything, there is a point to Dave. Any time I have something overly short or stupid in my head, Dave is going to say it for me. And he’s going to help me illustrate my point. By dressing up like an idiot.
To illustrate what I mean, this is going to end with a haiku, by Dave:

“Hot-boxing a fly,

Got so high, it forgot how.

What do I call it?”

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Buckle up. It’s gonna be a dumb ride.