HOW TO MAKE YOURSELF IMMUNE FROM BEDBUGS

Some of you will be sorry to hear that blogger WCC is off on a trip again. Some of you WON'T be sorry that I, 'Raker', am back, judging by the raves I got when I filled in before. Not bragging. I was raved at by several of WCC's followers.

As for the title of Bedbug Immunity, I confess that was a ploy to pole-vault into higher Search Engine Ratings. But so as not to disappoint any reader who is "itching" to know, here's the secret: To avoid becoming a Slurpee to a bedbug, or messed with by anything (or anybody) that craves to cozy up to you in the night, try this: Sleep completely zipped up IN A BODY BAG. If you are into multi-tasking and want to sleep and breathe at the same time, a couple of soda straws up the nostrils should suffice. But don't worry -- the odds of one or two bedbugs finding the straw holes and sliding down inside are too big (and ghastly) to even consider.

With my "bait promise" fulfilled, I'll move on. Stop cheering! I mean move on in subject matter, not move away!. But I sense your preference to hear about WCC, your spoiled, and perhaps soiled, little favorite, so I'll spill the beans. Or "flop the frijoles," to fake a bit of Southwestern lingo. But WCC is rather a messy eater. Instead of a BIB, his momma made him wear a MOP.

No driving the Ozark-Okie-Texas Autobahn for him this time. He flew on the modern travelers' magic carpet -- a cutrate ticket. That means he won't be needing the heavy-duty forklift he used at those Fast n' Friendly Food-filled Diners on the roadsides. Just a tweezerful of peanuts (maybe) for each coach passenger. And free drinks IF you retained a cheekful at the water fountain back at the terminal. Sure keeps airliner restroom traffic down.

Why subject himself and his wife to this? Mainly to jump up and irritate other patrons by yelling "Groovy!" when their violinist daughter goes into a soft and sensitive passage Amazing how that girl transforms a piece of 18th century wood, horsehair and rosin-on-a-stick so magically to life! Almost as ear-opening as a jalapeno on a stick ... IF you accidentally shove it in your ear. No, they don't serve those hot peppers at classical music concerts even in Texas -- no matter how hard LBJ and G.W. Bush legislated for them.

I'll be back to fill you in, or UP, on more of WCC's adventures. For now, we can just imagine him bursting with pride as the other concertgoers point him out as the father of the brilliant violinist. "Which one is her dad?" asks one guy. "Oh," says his wife, "I believe he's the one wearing the mop."

Thanks for listening to me -- and for thinking of WCC. -- Raker.