Daily Archives: February 13, 2023


Deesis (de’-e-sis): An adjuration (solemn oath) or calling to witness; or, the vehement expression of desire put in terms of “for someone’s sake” or “for God’s sake.”

For God’s sake, can’t you just tell me where my chrome-plated paper clips are? I got them in Japan on our last trip. It was also her last trip anywhere. I told her not to eat the pufferfish, but she was an adventurer—the kind that end up dead before their time. God, what a catastrophe that was! Especially getting her through airport security. I had to take everything out of my suitcase to to fit her in. You remember the ruckus when she showed up on the luggage screener.

The security person said, “I see you have a dead body in there.” He called his supervisor over and a crowd started to gather. “How did she die?” he asked. I told him she was my wife and she died from eating a pufferfish. He said, “Oh your wife. How tragic and sad. Tell us the name of the restaurant where she ate this illegal dish and you may go ahead.” I told him it was called Fish Bar. He made me pose with you and Mom for his Facebook page. It was gruesome, but we got out of there. Our arrival at Kennedy was uneventful. God only knows why. So please, for the love of God, where are those paperclips? Today’s what would’ve our 26th anniversary. I was going to set a place for her at dinner and decorate her empty plate with the paperclips. Sometimes, she would rather string her paperclips together than eat. Her pride was the hula skirt she made. Boy! Could she hula! Her big joke when we were alone was “Come on I wanna lay you, the grass hut open.” It was in poor taste, but what the hell. When she did the hula, I felt like my life was complete.

May god be my witness, I warned her about the pufferfish possibly being poison. She said, “Honey, if it was poison it wouldn’t be on the menu.”

We’re going to start our anniversary with her two favorite songs: “Tiny Bubbles” by Don Ho and “Crazy Train,” by Ozzie Osborne. At that point my daughter started crying. She said, “I was such a bad daughter. I never told her I loved her.” I reminded her that she was six months old when went to Japan and she couldn’t talk yet, so she shouldn’t feel bad. I told her that at least she didn’t cry during the funeral. I think I’m going to put mom’s urn in the middle of the paperclip circle. It is so pretty with the angels playing accordions on it and the orange flames around the bottom.

We are having a special dinner in Mom’s memory. I got two pufferfish that were prepared to eat by a guy named Stew at the fish market. He said jokingly, if we died, he’d give me a refund. So, I don’t think there’s any risk. My daughter said I was “insane” and she wouldn’t touch “that shit.”

Well, I had a wonderful memorial dinner of pufferfish. My daughter had Raison Bran. I got sick and became paralyzed. I survived and I ‘m perfectly ok now.

Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu)

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