Laxation

he worked like a dog or so the expression (in english, at least) goes, but honestly it’s a cliche thoroughly exploded by all the dogs of my acquaintance, particularly my own. say rather slept or lazed or lounged about like a dog, so perfect and without flaw are these brilliant canine studies in ripose. and to some extent i imagine, our holidays are inspired, if not modelled, on these shining exempla with whom we live and share our lives. three weeks into my vacation, i must say that i’ve come about as close as possible to achieving that full measure of laxation to which my year’s labors have richly entitled me. this side of coma or death, this is is about as good as calm and equipoise get for me. in proof, i offer my flesh gone as brown, as they say, as a berry, tho perhaps in my case, brown as a raw almond is more precise. i’m quite nicely water-logged thank you and i’m as thoroughly well-read and well-fed (while still leaner than in earlier incarnations) as a middle-aged middle-class intellectual has any right to be.

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