Language isn’t always black and white. Indeed, some maroon can leave you red in the face with his linguistic abuses. Maybe a trip to Magenta would help get you back in the pink. Or maybe Burnt Orange Tailgating is more your thing.
Then again perhaps you just need the vitamins like you’d find in an orange to keep you from feeling like a fly trapped in amber. You could feel like a gold medal athlete with a slice of tasty peach pie. But before you go for dessert, make sure you have some salad. I like the one with the dark olives, but the green olives are nice too. You might want to wash that down with a shot of chartreuse, a lovely yellow green liqueur from France. That is unless you’re yellow.
Anyway, it’s the time of year when the trees in the yard change to light yellow from the dark green they had all summer. I must admit I prefer the green. I’m not a fan of the colder temperatures. If I had my way, I’d be staring at the sandy beaches and the sea green water of a tropical island. I would drink lime-flavored mojitos until I turned pale green and threw up in the dark azure water after the sun had set.
They’d sell teal, turquoise, and aqua jewelry to the tourists. They would complain they all look like the same pale cyan rocks, but I could see the difference. Sometimes the sailors would come ashore in their navy blue uniforms and drink their blues away. That always reminds me of the royal blue uniforms of the TSA and how I want to fly away into the sky blue sky.
But I’ll probably just stay here for now and watch the heavens turn from light sky blue to indigo, because I stubbed my toe and it’s turning greyish blue. It was purple before. I’m not sure if that’s better or worse. I guess either would be better than brown and swollen up like a plum. Well, I guess I have to go water my plants before they turn three shades of gray.
Hi ho, Silver, away.
Also, you can’t read white text on a white background.