According to an article at Yahoo, there is great news in science for straight men 50 and above. Researchers have trained dogs to sniff out prostate cancer from urine samples. The hounds have had a 90% accuracy rate. Men may no longer face the dreaded probe of the gloved finger. Now that's what I call progress!
Italy has found a creative solution to its debt -- include prostitution and illegal drugs sales in its economic growth figures! European Union members are not supposed to let their annual deficits exceed 3% of GDP or accumulated debt exceed 60 % of GDP. Countries that fail to meet these figures face a fine, which seems asinine, given that the country is already in dire straits. Has the American left gotten wind of this ploy? Here is the solution to our economic woes. Our underground economy is vast. So what if that money isn't taxed by the feds or local governments? Let's inflate the GDP figure so we can all feel good about the sluggish economy. We need a jolt of the self esteem liberals are always peddling. Surely that will set things humming.
The local library, which is just around the corner from the floating book shop's usual nook, has begun selling books on Friday and Saturday. Finally, someone in the hierarchy has proposed a better solution than simply discarding works that have ceased to attract withdrawals. I wasn't concerned about the competition until one of my regulars, Herbie, passed with one he procured for a quarter -- Fifty Shades of Gray. It had me wondering if I should go elsewhere on Friday, and if readers were bypassing me knowing the cheaper wares were available. I also wondered if this was why Mrs. Eclectic hadn't stopped by the last two times she passed. Fortunately, the library's sale did not seem to affect business today. My thanks to the kind folks who bought and donated, especially to Lev, who phoned his wife and asked if she wanted the Jack London's translated into Russian. He purchased all eight volumes.
The highlight of the day occurred as I made my way to Delmar for a couples of slices. I ran into Mr. Morty, a retired salesman in his late 70's battling cancer. His doctors have given him a clean bill of health until next April. To his chagrin, his wife has given him an ultimatum: either move to the Mississippi gulf to be near their children and grandkids, or divorce. "I hate it down there, but what can you do," he said. What indeed? All the best, sir.
Vic's 4th Novel: http://tinyurl.com/bszwlxh
Vic's 3rd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
Vic's Website: http://members.tripod.com/vic_fortezza/Literature/
Vic's Short Story Collection (Print or Kindle): http://www.tiny.cc/Oycgb
Vic's 2nd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/6b86st6
Vic's 1st Novel: http://tiny.cc/94t5h
Vic's Horror Screenplay on Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/cyckn3
Vic's Rom-Com Screenplay on Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/kny5llp
Vic’s Short Story on Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/k95k3nx
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