Madonna Moon Face

The Body wants to construct a wall of fat 3 inches thick that circumvents my midsection. It plots and maneuvers. It’s pretty hard to keep vigilance against this while I am sleeping. This is when The Body makes some of its biggest plays.

The Body has recently completed one of its pet projects, entitled (I suspect) “Madonna Moon Face.” When I looked in the mirror the other morning, I saw a cross between a kitchen Madonna and parade balloon. Chalk one up for The Body.

On a mostly unrelated vein, the term “Moon Face” has recalled to my brain one of my favorite Dr. Seuss poems, “Two Many Daves,” from the book "Sneetches and Other Stories."
Enjoy..............


TOO MANY DAVES

Did I ever tell you that Mrs. McCave
Had twenty-three sons, and she named them all Dave?


Well, she did. And that wasn't a smart thing to do.
You see, when she wants one, and calls out "Yoo-Hoo!
Come into the house, Dave!" she doesn't get one.
All twenty-three Daves of hers come on the run!

This makes things quite difficult at the McCaves'
As you can imagine, with so many Daves.
And often she wishes that, when they were born,
She had named one of them Bodkin Van Horn.
And one of them Hoos-Foos. And one of them Snimm.
And one of them Hot-Shot. And one Sunny Jim.
And one of them Shadrack. And one of them Blinkey.
And one of them Stuffy. And one of them Stinkey.
Another one Putt-Putt. Another one Moon Face.
Another one Marvin O'Gravel Balloon Face.
And one of them Ziggy. And one Soggy Muff.
One Buffalo Bill. And one Biffalo Buff.
And one of them Sneepy. And one Weepy Weed.
And one Paris Garters. And one Harris Tweed.
And one of them Sir Michael Carmichael Zutt.
And one of them Oliver Boliver Butt.
And one of them Zanzibar Buck-Buck McFate . . . .


But she didn't do it. And now it's too late