You Et Two, You Brute‽‽‽

Herb’s Blog, Herbdate 24144 – 1338

Greetings, Dear Readers, Fans, Friends, Fiends, Foes, Frog-Haired Foundlings, and allegedly Normal People,

Here’s the haps:

My policy on reprinting posts is usually that I want to give it five years or more, but this subject came up elsewhere, and I decided to repost some mostly old and recycled material with a bit of new. Like this new decoration for my desk:

Today is the fifteenth of March. Day number 74 of this year, which is exactly 20% over. I had this thought about the middle of this month, it was one of my ideas of March. Yesterday, the weather was very pleasant, somewhere in the seventies. Today it will be in the thirties with snow flurries, and I shall have to beware the ice of March.

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When I was a bit younger, I had a friend named Sabot. He was a time traveller and actually made changes to the course of history. Often by accident or serendipity, depending on your point of view. For example, he became great friends with Bill Shakespeare. In fact, one day Bill asked him for advice. “I’ve written a new play, but the title just doesn’t work.” “What’s the title?” “I call it, ‘Julius Grab the Girl Quickly Before She Can Get Away!’” “Oh, no. You’re right. That’s much too long. Why don’t you call it ‘Julius Caesar’?”

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Don’t be angry, but today is the fifteenth. Beware the ires of March!

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Please don’t say, “I told you so.” Beware the chides of March.

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When Mrs. Simpson glares at you, you’d better beware the eyes of Marge.

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The official restaurant of the fifteenth of March is Little Caesars.

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But I think you should celebrate the fifteenth of March by eating a donut. In fact, eat two, brute.

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Was Julius Caesar the first Holey Roman Emperor?

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My time-traveling friend, Sabot, and I tried to save the emperor. We saw the old fortune teller reading the lettuce leaves of her salad, mumbling to herself and tossing breadcrumbs in the dish. “Grab her!” I said, thinking our hope might lie in the prophecy not being uttered, but he froze. He couldn’t do it, even after I yelled, “Chicken! Seize her salad!”

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