Frank's Clouds

Right off of Rt. 95 in downtown Philadelphia is the world's largest and most prestigious cloud factory. As you are passing the Cottman Avenue exit, look to your left (if you are heading south), you will see a giant, neon sign which reads "Frank's Clouds, Inc.", you can't miss it. They are the world's supplier of stratocumulus, cumulus congestus, altostratus undulatus and even cumulonimbus with mammatus. No matter your cloud necessities, Frank's expert cloud-techs will work directly with you to provide the clouds you need to your exact specifications. All on time and under budget.

And hey, be sure to tell 'em Yummy Hut sent you.


This was a paid advertisement for Frank's Clouds, Inc. Philadelphia, PA

Friday Haiku X

~CLEVELAND~

Manufacturing
Progress and prosperity

The forest city

No Use Crying Over Spilled Blue Paint

One glorious, sunny morning as singing birds gathered outside of my window, I went into the kitchen for a glass of water. Carelessly, I swung open the cabinet door whacking myself in the forehead; the impact sent me reeling backwards through the open basement door and down the steps with a repeated thud. I landed underneath a shelf which had been loosened by my fall overturning an entire bucket of blue latex paint which was now steadily flowing on top of my head. After a moment, I stood up feeling dizzy; everything was a swirl of blurry blue. Without realizing, I reached out towards my wood burning stove (I thought it was a support beam) trying to brace myself. Scream. Pain. Smell of flesh burning. Instantly I ran towards the sink for some cool water relief, but instead stepped on a poorly placed rake which slapped me in the face upon its swift upright positioning. Stumbling out of the back basement door, I bumped my knee on a circular saw as I made my way into the backyard; which incidentally is a field of cacti. Predictably, within moments, I had cactus pricks all over my body. That's when I noticed that at some point I had managed to get a glass jar stuck on my left hand. Pain was all I knew as I blindly tripped over a tricycle into a murky, alligator infested swamp. I sat up, wiped the mud from my face, clearing my vision just in time to see the alligator with its open jaw. Somehow my shirt was on fire. All in all, it was still the best day I had had all week.

Yummy Hut Guest Writer: Vladimir Nabokov

One of the greatest writers of the past century; Yummy Hut presents Mr. Vladimir Nabokov.

YUMMY HUT by Vladimir Nabokov

Yummy Hut, light of my life, fire of my mind. My blog, my soul. Yum-ee-hut: the tip of the tongue taking a trip three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Yum. Ee. Hut. Did Yummy Hut have a precursor? It did, indeed it did. In point of fact, there might have been no Yummy Hut at all had I not loved, one summer, a certain initial blog-site. In a  princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Yummy Hut was started as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style.

Thanks Vlad!