The dream journal to my left lists seven separate Lima bean dreams and it’s still March. They’re not entirely bland dreams, though. Often the Lima beans figure into some sort of jewel heist or art larceny. Throwing the dried beans into the faces of security and so on.
Still the frequency of such visions is alarming. I suspect it has to do with the onset of trampoline weather.
I can't talk fellowship to you who are gathered here. Too much blood has been spilled. I know from my experience it is up to the working people to save themselves. The only way they can save themselves is by a strong working-class movement.
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None of our tools are powerful enough to cut through these bars.
There's no other way around, we have to get inside this Yogurt Bar.
We need a creature with unparalleled biting power. With a merciful jaw and no soul.
Now do you regret killing all the alligators?
Call the Governor of Maine an asshole, wake up to a pile of dead marmosets at your door.
Worth it.
Maine Governor Paul LePage has ordered state workers to remove from the state labor department a 36-foot mural depicting the state's labor history. Among other things the mural illustrates the 1937 shoe mill strike in Auburn and Lewiston. It also features the iconic "Rosie the Riveter," who in real life worked at the Bath Iron Works. One panel shows my predecessor at the U.S. Department of Labor, Frances Perkins, who was buried in Newcastle, Maine.
The LePage Administration is also renaming conference rooms that had carried the names of historic leaders of American labor, as well as former Secretary Perkins.
The Governor's spokesman explains that the mural and the conference-room names were "not in keeping with the department's pro-business goals."
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You don't hear much these days about Old Paul. Not like you used to. Was a time when it was impossible to go three or four houses on your Steel Wool Route without hearing of Old Paul's doings. And they were mighty doings, indeed. Old Paul made many a friend at 7 feet, 2 inches tall. Wore those custom boots with laces up the back. Always had a riddle to tell or a nickel to swallow. And he was patient. You could talk at him for hours and hours, in person or on the telephone, about your wives and your wives' habits and he'd listen and acknowledge your existence. Then offer ice cream - of any flavor. Yes. Well as I said, you don't hear much about Old Paul anymore. His sitting stool, specially carved from the Jackson tree due to his cursed height, stands alone, off to the side. And Mary's...
