I have been picking up vibes that said that Pinky has not been at her
vibrant best of late with little men landing in her flaming red hair,
etc.

This is just a 'Get Well Soon' question, I hope that both You and Your
Answer are sparkling again on top form.

Dearest Bryan,

When I saw the subject title of your question, "Is Pinkfreud better?", 
my first thought was "Better than what?"

But, seriously, thank you for asking. I have been engaged in a fierce
battle against my own immune system for many years. It seems to have
mistaken various internal organs for enemies, and is intent upon
destroying miscellaneous body parts which it dislikes. I am quite
literally eating myself alive. Yet alive I remain, too stubborn to
stay down for long and too ornery to die without makin' a fuss.

This occasion calls for a poem (as does most any occasion)...

DEATH IS A SALESMAN

For some special few
Death comes early, sweettalking through
closed doors with a smooth sales pitch,
the vast 
unsurpassed
once-in-a-lasttime offer which
cannot be refused.
As my pulse quickens
I squawk "Ain't nobody in here but us chickens,
Mister Chickenhawk, and we pale poultrygeists are not amused."
   (If you order RIGHT NOW we'll
    throw in the Ginsu Knives, and you can peel
    soft/ripe tomatoes with 'em, spiralwise, thin,
    never bruising the tender skin.)

The DeathAngel knocks, knocks once more
   (Is this the right address???)
With seductive forcefulness
he meets my unyielding door
   (Hey, he says under his not-Breath,
    Hey lady, I AM DEATH. 
    I am The Boss.
    You got to
    open the door, it's imposs-
    ible not to.)

"So sorry to have wasted your not-Time,"
I chime,
"Thanks for tryin',
but we ain't buyin'.
Big change,
somethin' strange
in the story:
You got to know the territory.
Some other dude already hit this area,
and hey, Death, this guy will bury ya:
Fella by the name of
                  Love."
 
 ====== 
 ~Pink~
 ======

Great, Pinky, Very Many Thanks

I am so pleased to learn that you are aggresively fighting whatever it
is that is playing havoc with your innards.

You will win through, I am sure.

And many thanks for the poem and even though that particular salesman
always closes the deal, you must remember that the best salesman ever
- Professor Harold Hill - didn't know the territory but he managed to
bring magic to all those folks in River City, even the Mayor.

Next time I'm in Tulsa, I'll take you and all your mates to your local
Library and we'll dance up a storm.

'Till then

All the Very Best

Bryan

Bryan,

Thank you muchly for the jolly words, the five stars, and the Tip
(with a capital T, and that rhymes with P, and that stands for Pink).

John 14:27
...Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.

Hey, Pink,

I had the same thought as you when I saw the subject line, and I said
to myself, "I'll bet yes no matter what the contest is."

Now that I know it's a pretty serious-sounding contest, with the guy
in the black cloak as a major adversary, I'll still bet yes.

Warmest regards
(and a hug and howdy to Bryan),
Tryx

Hi, Tryx

Great to see you around.

An enormous hug & a great big howdy from me

Bryan

I think I?ll go surfing 
or play in the snow
Walk in the fields
  Where wild things grow

I will close my eyes 
 	So that I can see
  All the choices come clear
   A vacation . . . from me

What shall I take
	On my wonderful trip?
  Shall I go on a
       Plane or a ship?
And what will I wear 
   And what about my hair??
Last time I looked
       It gave me a scare!!

I check out the mirror
   With my eyes closed so tight
And SURPRISE!!!!!!!
	I?m beautiful,
	     A glorious sight!!!!!

This is going to be wonderful
	I will have the best time!!!
  No schedules, allowed
    And never a deadline . . . . 

For. . 

I am leaving behind 
	The things that I hate
The pills and the pain
   		All that can wait. . . 
There just not invited 
	And can?t come along
Their place has been taken by 
		My prayers and a song.

I am going on vacation
	I am feeling so free
   I am closing my eyes . . . . . .  
		I?m now at the sea.
Look at I am SURFING
     . . . . . . . Can you see me?

What a charming poem, Carolyn! Made me feel perky on a dark day.

Thanks!

~Pink