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Show big shot in the meat packing business in Denver. I forget all the good things about him today. I abhor him. A BIG CHUNK of ice just feU off the roof. How nice it would have been if one of the icicles had punctured me just above the right big golden blue eye. If you sign a petition does that mean you will be hit by lightning? Suppose on the'-other hand you WON'T sign a petition? When I was very small my sainted aunt told me I would drown if I went swimming on the Sabbath. Why didn't I-then I wouldn't have the walking-off walking-off flu? And how am I ever going ever to get across to Mary Bee and Kathy Bee and Eleanor Bee and Therma Tee that the apostrophe is ONLY used to denote possession posses-sion except in the only exception, excep-tion, its meaning belonging to it. It's means it is. Oh, well, I love 'em aJU-p.xcp.rJ: today. Maybe tomorrow I won't hate everybody. Including them. And especially me. DON'T THE BIG shots know that the only way to get the billion -dollar space booster station into Utah is to slip a few million bucks into the pants of big shots? Stupid . . . So now just a word to let you know that I'm not going to give up. I'm gonna keep on walking" and walkin' and hatin' myself and hatin' you. Until tomorrow. to-morrow. I'll either be dead or lovin' everybody. See what I mean? That Colyum was written on March 4, 1971. And there will probably be another an-other one just like it next year, if I forget, again, to take my flu shot. Mac, Mae Bates, the Bee executive has been working with the flu for weeks. Eleanor Bennett, the Record executive, took a nasty tumble in Park City Monday. Mon-day. Louise Mac, the News executive, ex-ecutive, crawls back and forth from the house to the office, on all fours, so she won't fall on that black ice. And if I were going to write a column this week it would be like this: Well, how do YOU feel when you're trying to walk off the flu? Dnn't tell me, let me guess. 'T guinea pig. I iuti ' ry body. And especially es-pecially you. And you, and you. My feet are cold and my gut rumbles and there is sandpaper behind my eyeballs and I shake a little and most of all I feel sorry for myself and hate everybody. If this office were to catch fire I would scream "Burn, Baby, Burn." IF PRESIDENT NIXON and his wife came dragging to the door, cold and crying and battered bat-tered victims of a wreck, I would slam the door in their faces. Today I much prefer the maxi skirt. If I got a call today offering me a two-week, all-expense, gold-carpet champagne trip to the South Sea Islands I would tell 'em . to shove it. And slam up the receiver. Suppose My Lady Fair Louise were to say she couldn't take another minute of me, she's going go-ing to visit her brothers, I would kick her pants right out the front door. AND IF AND WHEN that sexy sex-pot, wossername, Raauel Welch, wants to hide away in our spare room for a week or two and just rest up . . . we're storing stor-ing old deer hides in that room. See how bad I am? How about you? Had the walkin' flu yet? Not sick enough to go to bed, too sick to stay up, gosh how I despise you and it and them and especially me. Dear Jeff and Finney and Russ and Clay and all the rest of you I despise your intestines today. Do not please call up and ask Mac what have I done because be-cause I thought we wuz ol buddies because I will hit you in the ear with the phone. HUNDREDS OF robins today are dying in the yard of starvation. starva-tion. I dearly love the way they flop and gasp and twitch. There are several bushels of wheat stolen from the Thackeray ranch whichI shall throw into the canal and choke the fish there. The past week I read a good book. You'd all like it. Want to know its name and its author? I won't tell you. Wait till I finish feeling sorry for me. In the home town paper there's a story about an old school friend who has become a |