Five Card Story: Oh Brother

a Five Card Flickr story by CogDog created Jan 29 2013, 05:56:15 pm. Create a new one!

flickr photo credits: (1) Michael Branson Smith (2) JanusAjax (3) Bookhenge (4) b__parsons (5) cogdogblog

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Mt brother, the big time write. He has one novel published, and his life it now running from podunk town book store to another to sign it for 12 frumpy housewives.

He is always telling me that writing is the only form of art. He hates my drawings. He refused to even use my sketch for his book cover. Last night when he dropped in for dinner (after visiting OUR podunk town book store), he left yet another copy on my shelf. I guess I am sort of proud of ime, but I just want to sit at the starbucks counter sipping my lattes, and dreaming in technicolor. I imagine strange new worlds of pictures, dairy gods. I see a cartoon world where I whip his butt n miniature golf. And he is silent. He cannot talk.

I'm kind of glad to drop his author butt at the airport, on his way to Boise.

Damn, he left another copy of his book in my glove compartment.

Maybe I'll read it.

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<hr /><h2><a href="http://5card.cogdogblog.com/show.php?id=30490">Five Card Story: Oh Brother</a></h2>a <a href="http://5card.cogdogblog.com/show.php?suit=5card">Five Card Flickr</a> story created by CogDog
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/50723930@N03/8070896250/"><img src="https://live.staticflickr.com/8313/8070896250_a881e266ae_z.jpg" /></a> flickr photo by <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/50723930@N03/8070896250/" target="_blank">Michael Branson Smith</a>
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/92143649@N02/8396542791/"><img src="https://live.staticflickr.com/8473/8396542791_f6ce47307e_z.jpg" /></a> flickr photo by <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/92143649@N02/8396542791/" target="_blank">JanusAjax</a>
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/63729613@N05/8222234977/"><img src="https://live.staticflickr.com/8348/8222234977_1082602e46_z.jpg" /></a> flickr photo by <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/63729613@N05/8222234977/" target="_blank">Bookhenge</a>
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/85212267@N08/8009336988/"><img src="https://live.staticflickr.com/8174/8009336988_000cd8c7da_z.jpg" /></a> flickr photo by <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/85212267@N08/8009336988/" target="_blank">b__parsons</a>
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/37996646802@N01/6888430233/"><img src="https://live.staticflickr.com/7199/6888430233_1df5cf6cfc_z.jpg" /></a> flickr photo by <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/37996646802@N01/6888430233/" target="_blank">cogdogblog</a>
Mt brother, the big time write. He has one novel published, and his life it now running from podunk town book store to another to sign it for 12 frumpy housewives. 
 
He is always telling me that writing is the only form of art. He hates my drawings. He refused to even use my sketch for his book cover. Last night when he dropped in for dinner (after visiting OUR podunk town book store), he left yet another copy on my shelf. I guess I am sort of proud of ime, but I just want to sit at the starbucks counter sipping my lattes, and dreaming in technicolor. I imagine strange new worlds of pictures, dairy gods. I see a cartoon world where I whip his butt n miniature golf. And he is silent. He cannot talk. 
 
I'm kind of glad to drop his author butt at the airport, on his way to Boise. 
 
Damn, he left another copy of his book in my glove compartment. 
 
Maybe I'll read it.
<hr />

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flickr photo credits: (1) Michael Branson Smith (2) JanusAjax (3) Bookhenge (4) b__parsons (5) cogdogblog

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