Try grinding your heel against the pavement. And counting how many cells have been scratched off. And rolling over in bed onto some object you forgot you threw on it earlier in the day. Daily discard buried in the sheets is then, in the throes of unconsciousness, discarded on the floor to step on in the morning. Then there's always inadvertently ( Read more... )

She lit a candle as her only muse. Mary Poppins sang, "Whistle while you work." No. That's not true. That was the Seven Dwarfs. or Cinderella. Which was she? Poppins snapped her fingers to make things clean. That is what it was. That's who she was. It was at this point that she decided she needed to entirely rewrite the dictionary.  

Recently someone shared with me that one small success a day was valuable. Most days I am in a quiet search for some hint of truth in this world. The majority of the gut wrenching instances I have come across, though, are red herrings. Take for example the positive preganancy test my uncle took last night, the swollen cheek I gave someone from my ( Read more... )

I woke up today with tornadoes in my hair. I had to wash and cut them out. Tornadoes from tossing in the night. Tossing inhibitions. Tossing calamity ( Read more... )

It became apparent to me today that I needed badly to do something about my neighbor's birthday. Putting traditional convention aside, I decided to toss several rolls of toilet paper into my blender. From which I made a thick cake batter, and embellished with an utterly deceiving coat of icing. While I disagree with the principle in most ( Read more... )

I don't know why, but there seems to be a lot of insomniacs walking around with red flowers today. The two correlate somehow ( Read more... )

Damn Straight. I finished my spring cleaning in December when I doused the pile of assorted holiday decorations in my front yard with kerosene and flicked the stub of my deceased cigarette to it's next incendiary calling. I was standing on my driveway, me and Bloody Mary, in my crimson red bathrobe, as this compulsion of hefty cleaning swung at me ( Read more... )

It's about stream of consciousness and urges. Urges naturally being a facet of stream of consciousness. Like frat boys asking you to give them the same strong handshake repeadedly. You really got to hand it to frat boys. They are the icing on the cake. The icing on your knee cap after a dog humps it. The tip of the iceburg ( Read more... )

So it's been a while. Mr.Old Man time has caught up. Not like the wrinkles on your face are getting any shallower ( Read more... )

I said it must be yo' ass cus it ain't your face.

xoxo