I'm called 'Big Mouth.'

I’ve been accused. By none less than my Italian true love. Of occasionally being an incessant talker. I can talk, talk, talk. Dominate a conversation. With a monologue. Maybe to the point of annoying others. Because they have difficulty getting a word in. Edgewise.  Really, I tell my true love. It’s part of my fast-evolving shtick. My comedy routine. I wish to some day become a loquacious stand-up comic. But she thinks it’s no joke. That I’m a natural born big mouth. In fact, the Czech words for ‘big mouth’ became my nickname when growing up. Yes, my brother, my sister, even my dear mother, dubbed me something that sounded like ‘vulca huba.’  Can’t vouch for that being the correct spelling. But when I speak it in front of  Czechs. They know. Instantly. That I may have the world’s biggest mouth. I practice, however, keeping my mouth shut. By writing, writing, writing. Non-stop. –Jim Broede