Oh,
The letter c,
What do you be,
Are you part of some tree? Continue reading
When the world is not going,
As planned,
When the hippogriffs are dancing,
With their unbridled friends, Continue reading
So, we’ve already gone over before that I am a crazy person who says things that are odd and confusing and based on my own musings. But, because it is a lot of fun for me, I am going to explain some of the word salads that bubble out of my mouth and invite you, yes you, to try saying them in conversation.
Now, I cannot guarantee anything: but I think you might just learn a bit about the people around you. And, perhaps, yourself.
Or just get funny looks. Continue reading
“So, you’re not going to press the button?”
Jim shrugged. “Nope.”
Cathy pursed her lips. She opened her mouth to say something and then did not. She looked at the red button on the table. They’d woken up to it being there in their kitchen.
“But,” Cathy began, “I feel as though we are supposed to do something with it.”
Jim considered the button again, rubbing his chin. He reached out to touch it, finger by finger, then he pulled away. He too felt the odd presence of someone, or perhaps many people, frowning. Continue reading
On the beat and the beer, they danced. Women and men, high on their own hormones and the feeling of youth, kept bouncing and singing.
The D.J. spun a new beat and then pulled the microphone toward him.
“Everyone put their hands up!” Continue reading
(Originally posted August 13th, 2016.)
Find me,
The note said,
It talked about a girl I could not know.
Born a long, long, long time ago. Continue reading
(Originally Posted Septemeber 13th, 2017.)
I don’t know of many creatives without some odd habits. And, with me, the most prominent and noticeable ones are my night owl tendencies and my relationship with jackets. I’ve talked about the night and my place in it before, but I’ve barely, if at all, discussed my jacket fixation, and I think it’s about time I fix that oversight. Because I goddamn love jackets. If I could comfortably sleep in a jacket I would—and don’t think I haven’t tried. Continue reading
Eric could not understand why no one had considered dipping potato chips in ketchup. They were essentially French fries, so there was not much a difference in flavor, not much of an issue—so why didn’t more people do it?
“What, do you love her?” Fae demanded, spreading out her arms. “Do you want to fuck her, huh? Have her over and let her sleep in my spot?” Continue reading
I don’t know of many creatives without some odd habits. And, with me, the most prominent and noticeable ones are my night owl tendencies and my relationship with jackets. I’ve talked about the night and my place in it before, but I’ve barely, if at all, discussed my jacket fixation, and I think it’s about time I fix that oversight. Because I goddamn love jackets. If I could comfortably sleep in a jacket I would—and don’t think I haven’t tried. Continue reading
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