"Isn't it true,that you dropped an anvil

"Isn't it true,that you dropped an anvil on my clients head, tied a dynamite stick to his tail, & poisoned his milk?".Things looked grim for Jerry. The jurors were Willy E. Coyote,

Marvin the Martian, and 10 other cartoons. Jerry gave his best innocent mouse face complete with halo. Judge Y. Sam was having none of it. "You'll hang you recken-frakin varmint!"

"Objection!" shouted Space Ghost. Then flew across the court room. The jury consisted of 12 angry "Paw-Paws." Judge Y. Sam touched his sidearm, Bugs decided that

this was all rather a bit silly and he would rather not be here right now. He attempted to sneak out of the back, but found the path blocked with knocked over water coolers.

The coolers were fallen, but the water was flowing. The way out back was the way forward, and vice versa. He didn't know whether he was driving or parking. Texting wouldn't help,

because he wouldn't know if he was talking or listening. Which way's up? This way or that? A still small voice in my head spoke one word: "Row." So I rowed, rowed, rowed my boat

very abrasively through the water complaining loudly all the while about the harsh unrelenting realities of my dreary existence. I found no escape in the rowing, no escape at all.

Freeing oneself from your stream of thought is tough when you row upstream, as I discovered. I rowed perpendicularly and eased onto the shore, which housed relenting unrealities

such as I had just dreamt about. Tiptoeing into the first unreality, I breathed a sigh of relief - paddles provided!! This was *so* much better than the streams of consciousness

that my lacking BO was making me aware of. Memories flashed by of my teenage years spent in sport's facilities. All in all, curling can be a fierce sport!