Deep Thoughts of a Shallow Mind

Life's Turn

2011-12-30T08:34:00.000-08:00

Dear Life,

So you went and flexed your muscle and got me fired. Fired. Me! I'm the firer. I fired that job. Fired it I did with my pistol and one straight shot. BAM! I stopped showing up for work. Dismissed my firepower all over your face. Save yourself the walking papers, filling them out is more work than I ever did for you, Munkay.

Life's Passages

2011-10-04T17:56:00.000-07:00

Dear Life,
I thought I was traveling down your road when the metaphysical me cut off the physical me. And I was in the left lane! After my third Red Bull I caught up to myself. What were you and your multi personalities doing in the carpool lane? Good thing that cop didn't see ya there. Lucky for you I distracted him with all my swerving and yelling, "Save me! I'm having a heart attach here!" Thank the energy drink for my fine acting and quick thinking ability eh.
Going back to the couch now waiting for the other me to join me, Munkay

Life's Journeys

2011-10-04T15:06:00.000-07:00

Dear Life,
I'm just gonna lay here on the couch another day and watch you pass by. Send me a post card when you get to where ever you are going. I've seen faster snails.
Closing my eyes for just a minuet, Munkay

Lifes Meow

2011-10-01T15:05:00.000-07:00

Dear Life,
Why does the word "crazy" always precede "cat woman"? Why not "loving"? Why not "Humanitarian"? Or "Felineatarian" if you must label specific. "Empathic" would work for me.
"Sensitive". "Smoking hot multi talented" even. Wanna descriptive catchy term? Try "Inequitably superior intuitive intelligent level spanning femme fatale"? Rolls off the tongue don't it. Almost like a purr.
You change that while I change the litter, Munkay

Lifes Tricks

2011-10-01T14:35:00.000-07:00

Dear Life,
Down right deceitful that's what I'd call it. The food pyramid is now a pie and that pie is the anti-pie. Don't eat sugar that foul pie says. Moderation in fat. LIAR! It's the veggies that kill. Damn homicidal produce. Listeria in melons. Salmonella in grape tomatoes. Spinage that gives you the runs. Shit in strawberries. Ok call it E-coli if you must but it will kill ya. Sugar never hurt anyone. Its side effects maybe but hey. Dentist need to make a living too.
Come over for coffee and dessert soon, Munkay

Kent

2011-10-01T12:31:00.000-07:00

You.
You took my husband.
You took my social standing.
You took my trust.
You took my reconnection.
You took my time.
You took my future.
You took the family.
You take that piece of shit.
You can have him.
You.

Lifes Limits

2011-10-01T11:33:00.001-07:00

Dear Life,
This late term abortion thing you got going, whats the guidelines on this? Fifteen is not too late right? As long as it doesn't pose a risk on my health. It is my body driving him around listening to bad music and working to buy my teenage fetus's necessity's. That stress that's a health risk right there. I should have a choice no?
Send me the name of a good licensed clinic, as I don't want to do anything wrong, Munkay

Life Stinks

2011-10-01T10:59:00.000-07:00

Dear Life,
What kind of sick sense of humor do you have anyway? Gas. Yes so vital in gastronomic health but so socially unacceptable. Hell it is more permissible to smoke in public than toot. Someone should come up with a designated area for flatulence, like ten feet away from an entrance of a building and call it ...a bathro-never mind. I just remember a freer time farts wafted free and there was pride in their creation. I guess this goes hand in hand with that age joke of yours eh.
Stop making cabbage rolls so delicious, Munkay

Lifes Mercenary

2011-09-30T20:03:00.000-07:00

Dear Life,
Send me a grief councilor asap will ya. And give him (her) a high power rifle with a sick scope. Oh and sharp shooting skills along with ninja moves please.
I promise I wont stay blue long, Munkay

Hangin With Laney

2011-09-30T15:51:00.000-07:00

I enjoy my girl time with Elaine, I really do. We have a lot in common her and I. I don't have a lot of girlfriends with free time I can hang out with. And neither does she. But now Lanes got me.
She is just a couple years old than I am, but much worse the wear. That wasn't a very nice thing to say about my girl. Please don't tell her I said that. Others in our neighborhood arnt so polite. Mostly it's her teeth, or lack off that make her appear old. But when she grins those gaps between her stumps allow her to make a soft whistling sound that's charming to the disconcerting ear. Her hump gives her the posture of a geriatric, but its not her fault. She takes calcium, I've seen her. With that displaced shoulder of hers she bound to have a unique stance.
We attract attention and turn heads when we go out and it concerns us not one bit. We are used to it. We often walk arm in arm through the park when the weather allows. People move out of our way. Some times they talk behind their hands. Smart asses will even question our intent. "What the hell do you think you are doing!" comes their admonishments when Elaine spontaneously joins in their pick nick uninvited. "Wet blankets" and "buzz kills" I whisper into her ear as I readjust my grip on her transfer belt. Shes had a rough life, Miss Elaine. She seizes joy when she can.
We have an exercise plan, us girls. I try to come up with things a lady her age would pursue. And it gets us out of our male dominated homes, she lives with her brother and a couple other guys and me well I dwell in testosteronville. Mondays through Fridays the plan is to walk or swim for an hour. Sometimes we don't feel like it and we just sit in the van and eat. Eating is Elaine's passion. And she is quite good at it. "GOO GOO GOO", she will yell with enthusiasm when I pull into a drive through. She is a chick of few words, two actually but when things are good they are very goo.
I will not force her out of the van if she doesn't want to go no matter what her guardian wants. If Elaine doesn't feel like exercising, I'm not going to force her. There are personal decisions not for anyone but Elaine to make. But I will go back and write in her journal that she accomplished sixty minutes of weight bearing activities per required. If it is deceitful to her guardian, too bad. Someone should have thought about her well being before shaking her beyond repair. But then I would have never met Lany. Or maybe I would and the state would not be paying me to spend time with her.
Her father Elmer comes to the house to visit on rare occasion. He brings produce for Elaine's brother, but never for Elaine. He speaks of the vast farm he owns west of town. There are pictures and articles of his generous good will donations and the success of his farm. No pictures of Elmer with his battered children.
"Elmer" I asked during his last call as he was sitting at the dinning table sharing pickles with his son. "Elaine has recovered from her ear infection, should I go get her?" "No he said. I'm not good with girls. Not my generation". It was Elaine's birthday. I let her eat all the cake she wanted that day.
He made his excuses and started to leave. "Good Bye" he called on his way out. "Momma" was the reply.

Life's Wagers

2011-09-19T17:56:00.000-07:00

Dear Life,
Sorry I lost you to Wade today. And why would anyone remake "Foot Loose" anyway?
Never liked it never will, Munkay

Life's Sand in your Egg Salad

2011-09-15T20:06:00.000-07:00

Dear Life,
I bet you get tired of being called a beach all the time. I know I do. The first million time it was cute. But now I'm so sick of it. By now I would much rather be reckoned with a plato or a fjord.
Tell those damn crevasses to stop, Munkay

Life's Fruit Bowl

2011-09-15T19:56:00.000-07:00

Dear Life,
When you give me lemons, I'm going to find a new life.
Prefers vodka cranberries, Munkay

Life's End?

2011-09-15T10:29:00.000-07:00

Dear Life,
So what becomes to me once you are done with me? Had your fill? Ever think about that? Cuz see, I'm pretty committed to you. Here for the long haul. Why do you get to pull all the punches and call it quites at your connivance? I wanna say in this. "Munkay what do you say in this?", I ask myself in my best life like voice. "LIFE!" I reply in my whiskey voice as I exhale the Lucky Strike smoke and reach for another chip.
Chow for now, Munkay

Life's Subconcious

2011-09-11T19:54:00.000-07:00

Dear Life,
Whats so wrong with dreaming you away? Altered state smaltered state. Your perfect there and we all need someone to dream of right? (This is where in my head you nod encouragingly and lean in for the softest kiss imaginable. C'mon. Play along we have gone through this a thousand times before.)
Not needing to close my eyes to picture you, Munkay

Life's Life

2011-09-11T19:42:00.000-07:00

Dear Life,
I've come to the decision I'm really gonna get into you. Like a stalker. Or a creeper. Stalcreeper. Eather way your ass is mine. And when you question yourself, you'll come to just accept me and roll your eyes and say, "What can I do? That's Munkay."
Life is.....Munkay

Life's Forbidden Fruit

2011-09-11T19:23:00.000-07:00

Dear Life,
Why Strawberries? Why not Hmongs. Or encryption. Elevator music is close. As are wealth managers. But not strawberries. Man I would make a hot mess out of a deep dish of Napoleon ice cream right about NOW. If only you'd let me. Bitch.
Chewing my antihistamine as I curse you, Munkay

Life's Recipe

2011-09-09T10:13:00.000-07:00

Dear Life,
Why have I never eaten a maple donut with bacon sprinkles before? It is delicious! Surly I am not the only person to think of these things?
Call 911 before I fry up another will ya, Munkay

Yippie Ki-Yay Life

2011-09-08T18:11:00.001-07:00

Dear Life,
Explain to me the cowboy age will ya? I know, I know, it is more of a phase then an age but it suits me for all general purposes right? I have never, I meant always wanted pointy toed boots since I seen them three months back. And the hat well that's just practical. Cutting the hubbies leather belt with the big bronco bull down to fit me was resourcing. But the duster is just uncalled for. But so cool. So send me a sign that this is really who I am. Or send me a new look.
Happy Trails, Munkay

Life's Hand

2011-09-05T12:50:00.003-07:00

Dear Life,
I am trying my best to make due with the cards you have dealt me. You gave me one raggy Pokemon trading card. One bingo card with the corner numbers blacked out. One "congratulations on your promotion" greeting card minus it's envelope. One obsolete sound card for Hexus. And a debit card from my bank before it's buy out.
Which one would you advise I lead with at my next Texas Hold um game?
Betting all my lemons on the Squirtle card till I hear back from ya, Munkay

Self Centered Life

2011-09-03T18:43:00.000-07:00

Dear Life,
Why do you only toss boring people into my ring? Me me me bla bla bla. DING! No there is no round two. That was the sound of my last nerve snapping.
Glass jawed from the yawn, Munkay

Life's Promises

2011-09-01T15:50:00.000-07:00

Dear Life,
I promised to love him for ever and ever. That second ever was over bout six months ago right?
With this signature I thee end, Munkay

Life's Mechanical Challanges

2011-09-01T15:39:00.000-07:00

Dear Life,
Why must you break my dryer and my oven at the same damn time? What the dishwasher not enough for ya? I'm hungry and I smell bad and now the dog suddenly only wants to only pee on our beds. Please don't recall my liquid soap.
Not the least fixable, Munkay

Life in Law

2011-09-01T13:32:00.000-07:00

Dear Life,
Thank you for finally blessing me with a daughter. Now take her back.
Careful of who I wish for, Munkay

Life's Plastic Heaven

2011-09-01T13:24:00.000-07:00

Dear Life,
Thank you for the new vanilla scented garbage bags at work. When I go to toss the adult diapers in the trash -oh I'm sorry, I'm supposed to call them briefs, their comforting synthetic aroma makes me want to stick my head down inside and breath their goodness in to obviate all else.
Forever Aromatically Grateful, Munkay

I'm a Hockey Player Life

2011-09-01T13:15:00.001-07:00

Dear Life,
Please stop throwing me curve balls eh? At best I can bunt. Or swing wildly and throw my bat into the stands. If all else fails, I plan on leaning in and taking the hit to walk the bases. But I will slide into them with attitude, I will.
I will stop staring into the sun now, Munkay

Paul

2011-08-20T06:42:00.000-07:00

The man I love with all my heart smells of Axe body spray and social with drawl. We do not share long drawn out conversations, Paul and I, but I know how deeply he cares. When I walk into the room Paul's crazy eyes light up. "Pizzy! Pizzy! Pizzy?", he will ask me persistently under his breath while his hands make small circles at his sides. That is his way of asking me out for a delicious pizza dinner. I enjoy our special nights out together, but Paul shys away from my touch when I tackle him to the ground and dig the post meal cigarette butts from his mouth in the parking lot after. To hell with the staring eyes. Paul will giggle to himself all the way home.
I knew Paul was different that first night when I walked in on him drinking out of the toilet bowl. "Paul!" I admonished. "STOP IT! That's gross!" I should not judge. He whipped the porcelain toilet tank lid at my head to prove this point.
Strong aromas excite Paul. That is how I kill two birds with one stone. I will wear my my patchouli oil and Paul will lean in but from across the room and close his eyes with a happy smile and breath my sent in.
"Paul, can you say patchouli?", I ask my favorite guy. And he will turn his head away and mutter , "Stink".

Make it Rain

2011-08-19T16:36:00.000-07:00

She shifted uncomfortably in the chair parked precariously in the doorway and flipped the toy she was holding. It made a whirling sound like fake plastic rain. ting ting ting ting ting ting ting. It was supposed to be a comforting tool but it only upset her more. ting ting ting ting ting ting ting. She watched the brightly colored little balls as they fell down twisting their way through its clear cylinder casing. She needed to be able to see what was going on the other side. Because it was her turn to worry, her turn. Worry filled her mind more than the simulated rain. Worry showered down through the circuits in her brain. ting ting ting ting ting ting. She wanted to sigh loudly. Fuck she wanted to scream and rock in her chair. But any noise might make more worry and she was having a hard time with the anxiety she had been given. So she just watched. It was day thirteen without the Clonazepam. Two weeks at the nutward. Thirteen days cold and nothing not even an aspirin for the last three hours. ting ting ting ting ting fucking ting.
When Rachel touched her lightly on her back she startled. She had been swinging the toy clumsily like a baseball bat for practice to keep the noise out of her head and in her hands. "You don't need to be in here now, its not helping at this point", she said in her flat voice. "I do", the girl whispered hoarsely, words twisting through her vocal cords on their way out. "I promised I would be right here." "Come", is all Rachel said.
"Do you want to go to the hospital?"
"YES."
" ER Alone? Are you sure? We can find someone to take you."
If there was help it would have been here by now, and she couldn't wait any longer she knew. Bad was coming. She didn't yet trust this Rachel. She stared back at her chair with the toy in it nodding her head and she got her shit together as fast as she could. It was on her at this point, this fuck up she found herself in and she was not about to let go or share with anyone. Especially the scared assed bitches who would talk amongst themselves about protocol behind flapping hands with lowered voices.
She sat in the over air conditioned sterile room waiting for the hand x rays to developed and hoped no bones had been broken. Sometimes hands break before walls when the worry has no way out. Get the warm blankets. Stare at the fluorescent lights. Almost fall asleep f0r the first time in thirty six hours. But the worry crawls under the blankets and wraps its self up in your head and like a cold snake in your belly.
They sent her back with one new order for acetaminophen as needed. One sugar pill. On the way back to her group home the crazy shit began to fly. It started in the back of the state van, cut right across the stress thick air and hit her in the back of her fuddled head. Damn wooden relaxation balls.
The B52 wore off. What was wrong with people thinking a fricken near over the counter medicine cocktail would be enough when an anti psychotic car bomb was what you needed.
Later as she lay on the damp back yard ground facing the shaking young man she begged the officers not to cuff him. His hands hurt him she told them. His speech was slurred from the odd collection of pills she had laid out on the table from behind one of the ripped couch cushions while he was busy kicking the shit out of the rest of the house, but she got him. But not before the bad.
"I didn't do anything bad did I?"
More than anything, Eddy wants to be good.
"No Eddy. Your pulling it together."
"I'm worried. I didn't hurt you did I?"
Images of his attack and the destruction of the last hour wouldn't come back to her till the adrenaline wore off much later. After all the police and paramedics had taken him.
"Eddy, its gonna to be ok starting now. Your ok."
She wanted to hug him hard but her touch would only set him off.
"Are they taking me back to the hospital?"
"A different hospital. They will get your meds right this time."
"Will you be with me when I sleep? Is this a nightmare? You promised to protect me from them. Aaaheeee"
"No Eddy."
"I don't hear the rain."

In Two

2010-06-27T18:44:00.000-07:00

As they sat there looking out over the cattails in his beat up green Ford, she was glad for the worn cloth seats. Her black shorts clung to her chunky legs and the t-shirt she spend too long picking out was wet with her sweat. It stuck to the small of her back and her knew she would have the dark semi circles of perspiration under her pits and her boobs. She wanted to look like she didn't care, that she has thrown on any old thing, but truth was she went through her closet, and the laundry hamper, and then her sisters clothes for a good part of the morning. The windows in his truck were rolled all the way down, but there was no breeze coming off the lake to cut the humidity. Thank goodness the trucks seat was cloth so old she could not distinguish the pattern, vinyl would have made it look like she peed herself. She looked down at her legs, thinking she at least had some tan, but remembered she was wearing the cheap sunglasses.
"Click"
The noise came from the drivers seat, she turned the opposite way to look out the window away from him.
"Click"
She knew that noise. She new that noise all too well. When he first made that sound with his tongue against the roof of his mouth, she thought that was the sign he was horny.
They had been sitting on his brothers couch watching two TVs at once. The one on the right had some old movie playing. The screen on the left flickered porn. She was loaded and had to go to the bathroom, but the couch was wide and soft and she didn't think her legs would carry her. So there she sat, trying to focus her eyes on one screen or the other.
"Click"
The sound came from her left then too.
"Do you think that is wrong?" He had meant the bad scene being played in front of them. She thought he was talking about watching two TVs at once. So she dumbly shook her head no, she had never seen a skin flick before and wished she had something to drink to cut the sticky sweet taste in her mouth.
He was sweet and gentle when he helped her get to her feet and then to the bathroom. And unlike the images a few feet away from them, she didn't need to fake her pleasure, when he guided her back to the couch.

In too Deep

2010-04-28T17:50:00.000-07:00

When the girl turned around toward him sitting there back at the table, long legs stretched out in from of him, he was looking through the crowd right at her. Looking at her as if she were a piece of meat, and he had not eaten in a very long time. His look was so intense, it took the girl a moment to recognize who was staring at her. The leer on his face changed into a smirk, when the girl, now self conscious in her heels, wobbled comically as she swiveled away. All she had wanted was a place to set down her drink. That is not the face a friend sees of another.
Later, back on his couch they had sat on together a million times, she let him kiss her, gentle. It was the face he showed her then, the wide open one without a mask that scared her most.

He Tried with His Rod

2010-04-15T17:19:00.000-07:00

He tried his best. He jammed and poked and prodded, grunting all the time. The cops interupted him just as he got his slim jim in the right spot to open her jeep door.

He Tried Ratty

2010-04-14T19:04:00.000-07:00

He tried talking her into longer saying her hair was to messed up now to go out in public. So they both cuddled up pretending to sleep till they could delay no longer.

He Tried Visually

2010-04-11T18:43:00.000-07:00

He tried to get her to notice his big blue eyes when ever she was near by opening them very very wide. She always thought he resembled ET.

He Tried Like a Schoolboy

2010-04-11T18:41:00.001-07:00

He tried to get her to drive him to school by missing the bus. But never again when she walked him to the school door in her jammies.

He Tried with No Results

2010-04-11T18:37:00.000-07:00

He tried to tell her he loved her, but did not know how or confidence. So he told her a woman's place was in the kitchen or the bedroom because heated words were at least something.

He Tried Making Time

2010-04-06T16:42:00.000-07:00

He tried to get her to wake up before sunrise to go fishing by changing the real time on the alarm clock to read 7:30 am. She tossed the noise piece off the end of the dark dock.

He Tried with Sparks

2010-04-06T16:39:00.000-07:00

He tried to talk her into going to school to become an electrician. Lightning storms scare her less than outlets.

He Tried Audibly

2010-04-06T16:34:00.000-07:00

When he tried to get her to work for his karaoke business on the week end, she told him she would feel more comfortable appearing in front of a crowd naked. Because at least she had some experience there.

He Tried Pumpin the Gun

2010-04-05T16:12:00.000-07:00

He tried seducing her with his muscle, it worked cuz there is no bigger muscle on the human body than the brain.

He Tried With Steak

2010-04-05T16:06:00.000-07:00

So when the young man tried to sell her frozen beef from the back of his van, she pointed to her cows and asked him if he wanted to buy fresh beef from her yard.

So He Tried Control

2010-04-04T18:33:00.000-07:00

So he tried to make it in to the house from the back pasture in time, but lost if about halfway. When she found the poopy Telly-Tubby under ware hanging on a bush almost out of sight, she threw them in the fire pit where no one would ever see.

He Tried Indian Style

2010-04-04T18:27:00.000-07:00

The beautiful man tried to take her back to the reservation so they could have sex next to his passed out mother who was snoring on the floor, but she pretended she seen a windigo through the curtainless window and scared the passion right out of him.

He Tried Pervert

2010-04-04T18:22:00.000-07:00

So when he tried for pull his picture ID out of his wallet to get into the prison for a job interview, the girl seen the pornographic image in the plastic sleeve and told the creep no.

Cherries

2010-03-24T16:34:00.000-07:00

All I wanted was to get home. Get home as fast as possible. I set the cruise control for 85 after I put on the rock star over sized sun glasses I had bought for my vacation and headed south back towards the city. When I passed the unmarked car on the left, I could of stepped on my breaks and try to avoid any trouble If I knew where my head was at.
The nice young officer let my fly past him and just keep going. And that's exactly what I did. I owned the fast lane never slowing down for a good 5 more miles to the North Branch exit. When I seen him close behind me I pulled to the far right turning the Jeep off and waited.
Officer Erickson more than likely had all ready radioed in my plates. He tipped his hat after cautiously approaching my car and exchanged pleasantries.
"Where are you going in such a hurry ma'am?'
I looked at him and smiled a tired smile but gave him no answer. I had no answer to give.
"Do you have any idea how fast you were moving?", he tries again.
I can answer that, and I do. Officer Erickson is giving me the optic field drug test as I say, "85".
"And where are you going?"
I do not know. I have been on the road for the past three weeks. Some times I am at two, some times three different prison facilities. And they all want me. They want my answers. The want my attention. They want my shoulders. They want my ears. All at the same time. I want nothing of them.
"You coming from Rush City?" The patrol man has spotted my state ID and his voice takes on a softer tone.
I nod and repeat Rush City like an amnesia recovering parrot.
Rush City is a small down full of old pick up and rednecks. The heavy security prison is built in the middle of a corn field and full of the angriest men alive. They are young and mean, unaccepting that they will spend the rest of their days behind bars and eager to fight. The entire town works at the prison. Drive down main street, past the gun store, and the hardware store, after the bakery turning left at the grain elevator any there you will find one of Dante's seven levels of hell.
"Aren't you in the middle of a lock down there?"
"South C found a 13 inch shank make out of a dust mop head", I answer knowing the entire town listens to the police scanners, not just the police officers.
"Hell, I'd be getting my ass out of there in a hurry too", the officer grunts.
It is common ground and I see my hope. I could tell him I was on my way to pick up supplies from Oak Park, or Stillwater, Lino for that matter, if I wanted to put any effort into a lie. But I am burned out and sick of lies. When he stopped me I had no idea where I was or where I was headed. The sun was either rising or setting and I was either coming or going.
"You know officer Kranz?"
"I couldn't tell ya. I just started there so he could be fabulous or an asshole."
The officer laughs.
I wanted to tell him I was in Jamaica when he pulled me over. My mind was on the man I left back on the island and I was unaccounted for. Throw me in a nice quite country jail some where and give me a chance to think.
"Slow down now and stay safe."
To late.

The Man I Love With All My Heart Trevor

2010-03-21T11:01:00.000-07:00

I have fallen head over heels in love with an extreme fighter named Trevor. Trevor smells of testosterone and gym mats.
His beautiful face but not his ginormous shoulders are hidden behind the menu as he reads ever so slowly.
"Swiss steak with choice of potato and vegetable. What kind of animal do you think they make Swiss steak out of?"
"Beef."
I want to explain how they make it, but know his attention span would be strained if I went into the carb detail involved with this dish.
I tell him to order the New York strip to be as safe as someone in his profession can be.
He loves me for more than my nutrition knowledge I tell myself.
"Do you want my potatoes?", Trevor inquires ever so thoughtfully. "Do I have to get the potatoes if it says so on the menu?"
I tell him no, he can do what ever he wants. But I leave off the "to me " part.
Trevor talks of his fighting techniques as we wait for our protein laden food. He uses strange Oriental terminology in his husky voice and it is my turn to look blank and nod vaguely. I squeal when he puts his invisible opponent in a head hold acting out a particularly good match..
"So how bout it, he finally asks once we have leaned back like full snakes, you wanna come watch me fight? My uncle and I have a competition next Thursday, wanna go?"
I ask my iron man how old is his uncle.
"24."
I cry and cry because I did not order dessert and show this baby what real risk is.

The Man I Love With All My Heart Tim

2010-03-19T03:18:00.000-07:00

I have fallen head over heels in love with my awkward young assistant Tim. Tim smells of slight perspiration and Mt. Dew. Tim wants to hate me because I got the director's job instead of him, but he is too divine to feel that strong.
Tim is unsure where to walk when we are together. I make it hard for him to pace his giraffe strides to mine and I expect him to let me walk ahead of him into every room. Except I am so new I do not know where I am going and hate to have Tim tell me anything, he is my bitch after all. That and I think he prays under his sweet breath.
He is so nervous he might actually touch me he will dart willy nilly in my way and we both stop short and look at each other. I should just say, "Ok kiss me now I know you want too", just to get it over with but there is probably some sort of harassment policy somewhere that I would have to use on him in the future just to keep my job.
If I look directly at him he cannot talk to me. So I stay in my office and yell for his comfort.
"Tim! My little gerbil. Stop sucking on your pop water bottle, and tell me where the incident reports are. I feel the need to fire someones ass!"
I will hear the sound of his chair squeak as he uncoils his long body and clump to the file cabinet at my command.
I will get him to swear by next week. Then swear his undieing love for me by payday.

The Man I Love With All My Heart Mike

2010-03-16T15:39:00.000-07:00

I have fallen head over heels with a locksmith named Mike. Mike smells of steel and lubricant. He sits in my office dressed in workman's blues calibrating me through his horn rim glasses as he shares his sunflower seeds. He gauges me with the framed hazel eyes as he offers me his bag. I would feed this man anything he desires in the kitchen without him asking, with out his offer of snacks, he just does not know this yet.
"You really should stay here at this facility and not go to the other one. The people are nicer here at maximum security."
I want to stay right there with him, licking the salt off his secure lips.
"And you have to factor in the time it would take you to drive everyday up north."
I should of dished him up some breakfast at that point, but I was enjoying his coaxing too much to give it up so easy.
"No traffic heading out of town, Mmike."
I tell him he has the biggest keys I have ever seen as I stare at the ring hanging near his groin and I mean it.
"You play cribbage? You should come down to my office some afternoon and play."
I have pretended my codes are not working seven times in four days and can't get the image of naked board games in his dark office out of my mind.

The Man I Love With All My Heart

2010-03-12T17:22:00.000-08:00

I have fallen head over heels in love with a district manager named Ralph. Ralph smells like coffee, letterhead, and advancement.
When Ralph and his steel grey every lock in place hair walks in my office my every orifice puckers.
"Do you have the numbers for this months food budget?" the Bill Clinton look alike will ask me as he takes off his leather coat and sets aside his breifcase.
"I think they are somewhere under the desk", I answer in a Monica Lewinsky voice in my head. But in real life all I say is "squeak" through lips pursed as if I had just swallowed a lemon drop.
"Are you alright?" my true love will inquire
"Wes! I answer not able to make my face right.
I am torn. I want my numbers to be so good he will use me for an example and give me a pat on my head. I want my numbers to be so bad he spanks my rosebud bottom.

The Man I Love With All My Heart

2010-03-11T17:22:00.000-08:00

I have fallen head over heels in love with a bartender named George. George smells of charisma and rum. The best pina colada comes from George's skilled hands when he shakes it shakes it shakes it to the reggae beat for me. When I slip him a tip, George makes love to my hand. But he will only cater to my every whim between the hours of eight to close. I sit at the end of his bar with a fist full of dollars, empty as the steal drums that beat in my chest.

Oh no we don't

2010-03-10T14:41:00.000-08:00

We do not confine any alqaeda talliban jihad terrorists at my maximum security facility. We do not confine any alquaeda talliban jihad terrorists at my maximum security facility. We do not confine any alquaeda talliban jihad terrorists at my maximum security facility. We do not confine any alquaeda talliban jihad terrorists at my maximum security facility.We do not confine any alqaeda talliban jihad terrorists at my maximum security facility. I put pig in their every meal. We do not confine any alquaeda talliban jihad terrorists at my maximum security facility. We do not confine any alqaeda talliban terrorists at my maximum security facility. We do not confine any alqaeda talliban terrorists at my maximum security facility.

The Man I love With All My Heart

2010-03-09T17:43:00.000-08:00

I have fallen head over heels in love with a meterosexual Londoner named Owen. Owen smells of style and studders softly in the sexiest accent in the world.
"You are the biggest Jamaican I've found on the island yet!" I exclaim as he blocked me from my pina colada at the bar.
"I'm from the UK love", the coffee colored man replied reaching into his shoulder bag as he bought himself an energy drink and paid for my spiked slushy.
"Well welcome to the island" I answer besotton and a little drunk.
Owen taught me to dance like a girl with soul and I giggled when he said petrol or primary. I would pretend I could not hear him over the sound of club so he would have to repeat himself in my ear.
"Your absolutely gorgeous."
"What?"
"Aabsolutely g-gorgeous."
"Yes Owen, I will marry you", I answer shaking my back side as if I had one.
I slipped my number into his furry man purse and have not heard from him yet.

Across my desk

2009-10-26T15:06:00.000-07:00

She looked up yet again when Burch asked her if she wanted him to clean out the microwave in the corner of her office. The month's end inventory numbers where important, but the old janitor had been trying to engage her in conversation for the past half hour while he swamped out the office. She put on her far away glasses and turned away from the computer screen.
"Burch. How's your diabetes doing?"
That's all it took for the offender to stop pretending to be cleaning and lean against his broom.
Burch has spent his life more in than out of the correctional system. And he knew every one and how the system worked. But he was a newly diagnosed diabetic and he had no clue how to manage his disease.
"Not good Munkay. Not good."
Most staff would be upset if addressed by an offender by a first name with out a title before it.
The girl did not care, she knows respect does not come from a title. Burch could be her father, if her father was a black man from the south. To her the real problem she has is not lack of respect for a title, but for age.
"Your eating desserts, aren't you?"
Burch regarded her from behind hooded eyes as he propped his old body against the brooms wooden handle.
"Munkay. I can't resist free food." They both laugh.
Everyone in the prison is hungry. All have a void to fill. The food we serve inside is plenty. It just never is what they crave.
The meals are heavy on the simple carbs that are cheap and cause the offenders to gain weight and develop type two diabetes. Unfortunately the doctors are quick with the meds, but education on nutrition non existent. The leftover desserts we cannot reuse I let the kitchen workers eat up as a perk for working in my kitchen. Burch is always first in line.
"I got ya Burch, your human. Try staying away from the rice and potatoes instead."
Burch knows she knows about such things. Tell one person behind the walls any information and the whole place hears. Men like Burch have no family left to spend their time with. Gossip is his life. He had even filled the girl in on everything about her new boss before her old boss was gone, and the owner of her company. Burch has been in every facility and took his gossip with him.
"What is that a picture of there Munkay?" he asked veering the conversation away from him self.
The pictures behind her desk are limited. No photo's of family, at least not their faces.
"That's a Scottish Highlander."
"Really whats that?"
"That's a cow Burch."
"Wasn't sure there Munkay. Thought it might be a musk ox or something. We didn't have them in Mississippi."
"Course not Burch. The south is for the weak. Scottish Highlanders are a hardy breed."
"Ahhhhh -You got other animals?"
"Yup. Got just about everything."
"You got chickens?" he asks moving closer and squinting at her desk, scoping it for any juicy details left out for his sharp eyes.
Burch knows she does. Why else would a woman carry in eggs to a prison that other staff carry out. She wouldn't put it past him to somehow know the son's name that sells them.
"So many kinds I do not know what they are."
"I worked on a farm once. Back when I was a kid, Mom sent me to a farm work house. The man there raised chickens."
Burch lowered himself into the empty chair across from her, smiling as he reminisced. She knew at that point it didn't matter if she was there or not. Burch was back on that farm.
"I'd get up early before breakfast and feed the birds. That was my job. Then I'd gather the eggs. But mostly I'd watch the birds. Birds were fun to watch, how they would get along together, interact. Sometimes I would just break the eggs. Break the eggs and the hens would come running. Oh those mama's would be mad. But they would eat those broken eggs. Eat their very on eggs..."
"Burch" she said after a pregnant moment. As long as you are sitting here you want to do my numbers and I'll clean the office?"
"I wanted to talk to you Munkay."
"You are."
"What happened to your hands?"
She stiffened. Leave it to Burch to sucker her in like this to extort the facts on why her hands were raw and cut. She knew everyone would ask, but did not want any to know of her own clumsiness. So she let people think she had been in a fight. Kicking ass is better than falling over. Respect behind bars can be earned in different ways.
"I had to take care of someone who asked too many questions."
"No one can do that to you, one of our own."
"Burch", she said meaning, "Stop."
"If someone is doing this. We have people out there.."
The girl grins and shoves her chair back away from his scrutinizing gaze hard enough to cause it to roll to a stop some distance back.
Burch had chose his words very carefully as not to self incriminate.
"You just need to worry about taking care of yourself. Leave the pie alone."
The girl chose her words very carefully as to keep either of them from harm.
Burch may have been offering her protection. More likely he was setting her up. But was probley the most fatherly thing the man had done. Ever.
Burch was released and returned in ninety days. Just in time to settle in for the winter.

Across my desk

2009-10-25T13:36:00.000-07:00

She hears the knock and looks across the office at the wall of windows. There is Olson from the dish room. The large man does not look directly at her as he waits unlike the rudely impatient ones, but stares off across the kitchen.
Most offenders who are upset will knock repeatedly and stare in at her, expecting her to drop her work immediately to answer their trivial questions. Some try to yell from the door. The more demanding ones do not know the rules, or do not bother to play by them and they try to tell her what they want. You do not tell this lady anything if you are a prisoner, you ask. Often they will make up any question they can think up to get her attention and a minuet of her time alone. Some of these men only encounter a handful of women on a daily basis.
Olson stands, the glass of her door window only reaching up to his temple, swinging his flexed right arm in a wild circle as he holds his shoulder, his face red.
The lady smiles and gladly drops her pen. She thinks she knows what this is about. She has heard through the prison grape vine.
"C'mon in Olson", she chirps throwing open the door for the giant.
Majority of the men are screened at her door and she does not allow into her office.
Being Native Olson's face turn redder as he fills her office, still swinging his clenched fist in a circular motion.
"You gonna work for me for free today?" she teases. A part of her knows this man would do anything she asked of him. One of the only times the man worked up his courage to speak with the lady was when he came to her to apologise after he tipped the silver ware cart nervously when she walked by.
"Think nothing of it ", she had told him to stop his stammering, "I do that move myself just for fun sometimes."

"Umm about that Miss Munkay" he starts the rehearsed speech he came to her office door to deliver.

The week before he had managed to maneuver his big self past the security at break time when everyone was ushered out of the kitchen into the dining room to get counted and surprised her by the cooler when she had reached in for her daily yogurt.
"Miss Munkay?" he had startled her appearing out of nowhere from behind the stainless steel door.
"Hey", she replied not remembering his name then, and not really caring because she was hungry and just wanted to eat, knowing the camera were pointed on them and rolling just in case his intent bad.
"I need to ask you a favor."
"Mmm." she grunted non committal.
"I am scheduled to work on Labor Day and I am wondering if I can have it off?" Olson was holding the cooler door open for her with a dinner plate sized hand that draped over the top of the door as he held it from his hidding spot behind and his huge face peered around the side. The shy behemoth never looked directly at her, but stared at the little plastic container in her hands. The lady knew with the facility serving only two meals on a holiday she would have plenty of workers, but her curiosity got her and he had to ask.
"Why?"
"My unit has it's play off softball game and I need to pitch it."
She was glad that was his reason. She did not want to be lied to again. Every one's mothers die, lawyers call, or cousin visit on the week end.
"Sure. You can have Labor day off."
"Miss Munkay?"
"Your keeping my from my food," she tells Olson and looks pointedly towards the kitchen door. They both knew the security officers would burst through it once they realize a kitchen offender is unaccounted for.
"Can Tabor, Baker, and Ellis from my team have it off too?"
This game must mean a lot for this man who was too shy to approach her in front of the others to her to ask for his more boisterous team mates.
"Mmmm" she stringed him along for effect. "Ok. But you guys have to win. You lose, you work for me for free."
"Thank you, Miss Munkay. For you, we'll win."

"No Miss Munkay, we won. I wanted to thank you on behalf of my unit. It was the first time ever K4 has won the championship."
"Did you mean mug them for me then? Who did you play?"
Olsen sneaks a look from the floor up to her face. "We played the south unit, (sexual predator unit) so I had to torment them, ma'am. Every time I wound up..", Olson pantomimes a pitcher pose swinging his long tree trunk of an arm, "I would say, this is for the babies and the women you rapers."
Laughter pealed out of the lady who was not supposed to comment on any one's past or crime as not to show favoritism or distaste even though the residents of the south unit disgust her and if it were her call she would torture them herself.
"Bad enough I have to work along side them..." Olson stopped then, hesitant he may have crossed the line by criticizing his co workers and his job.
Most of the sexual predators are good employees in her kitchen. They have to be. On the outside world most hold down real job, they try their hardest to blend into society. They try not to stand out in prison, for fear of a beating. And on the most part in front of authority they portray a submissive personality. But it doesn't make up for who they are. Everyone knows the men from the south unit are the most hatted perverts in the place.
The lady walks around Olson still laughing at the image of the strong man whipping balls at the deviants and holds the door open for him, "Careful now Olson. That could be taken as inappropriate."

Across my desk

2009-10-24T16:40:00.000-07:00

"I heard there is an offender down at Fairbault that is also gluten intolerant. I thought if I was moved down there, I would have a support system", the man with intelligent eyes asked.
"I do not know what kind of special diets are at which facility", the woman replied shortly.
"I appreciate all the kitchen has done for me, but I am having a real problem with this." He sits straight in his chair, his posture excellent from the tartaric yoga he practices in his cell. She wishes she did not know this about him. She has spent too much of her time talking to this needy man. She wishes this guy did not exist in her mind or anywhere.
The woman just sighed and looked at the waste sitting across from her. He was in her office building up for his next tirade, his next appeal. The lifer had wore through every last nerve of her staff who catered to his diet, the dietitian who block him from directly contacting her anymore, and anyone else who would listen.
"Those Rice Checks you ordered for me, they give me panic attracts. I dream I'm eating a bowl covered in the milk that makes me sick, and I wake up filled with anxiety. I do not even want to come down here for meals. It's hard on me."
"I eat cereal dry. How do you think the diabetics handle it when they see sugar?" She did not want to sit there and reason with man who looked healthier than anyone in the joint, staff or not. But if he took that as empathy to his imaginary plight, and left her alone so be it. Walbergs eyes and skin are clear, his bone structure chiseled. He is one of the few residents without scares or tattoos. He wore his long thick hair in parted in the middle tied in a pony tail that would have reached his belt, if he were allowed one. He was a man her own age and he would have made a very attractive one had prison not prematurely aged him.
"I just get ravenously hungry after I have been so horribly ill, and I feel as I am starving. I have to beg and barter food from the other inmates."
Starving. That is the one word that can get to the woman. She cannot let anyone starve. She jerks her head at that word and Walberg perceives it as his signal that he has reached her.
She has seen him trade his special diet food she orders in for him with the other inmates in the dinning hall for cream of broccoli soup and saltines. Milk and wheat. Let him shit blood she thinks.
"Again, I appreciate all the effort you go to for me but I do not know who to turn to..."
Walberg has threatened her staff with law suits. She knows he wants to contact another offender who will collaborate his story.
"So anything you could do..." he fishes.
She had considered hiring Walberg to work in the kitchen just to try to shut him. Maybe work the piss out of him so he had something to really complain about. But Walberg, scoring higher on his intelligence tests than any of his teachers combined and probley the warden, got a job over in education as a tutor. Until he hacked into the state website and was sent to treatment for selling porn.
"Walberg. I am not going to ask for you to get moved. The only reason I would have your meals sent to your unit is so you stop bugging me and my staff. But that is more work for them."
She is relieved at last when he leaves her office muttering and wonders when he ate his best friends fingers if it gave him diarrhea.

Across my desk

2009-10-23T15:37:00.000-07:00

He sits back and smiles a comfortable smile. She could tell this is not the first time he has told anyone of his secret. But it is the first he has shared his colorful past with her.
"I wasn't your typical..." and his voice fades away as if you could not admit aloud the name of what he had been before the girl had met him.
The well groomed man cleared his throat to buy time in place of unspoken words. She recognizes his habit and raises an eye brown and cocks her head smiling most encouragingly as she continued to grip the state issued radio.
"I always drove the speed limit and kept my car in good repair. I made sure my tail lights were working. I gave the cops no excuse to pull me over."
"Ralph. You surprise me."
"Depending on where the drugs would come from, I would drive for hours. Days if I had to go all the way to the coast."
She nods, exterminating his profile, knowing all criminals exaggerate and glorify their crimes. No one wants to be a two bit convict busted for doing something stupid. His silvery hair gives him a distinguished appearance that she admires. Unlike the others histories, she wants to hear his.
"At first I would just supply my boss. Buying for him, I could afford my own. Then I used the opportunity to make a little money. "
His blue eyes glisten with his memory and his soliloquy stops. He wants to be high right then, she can tell.
Ralph clears his throat and continues. The security check on her as inconspicuous as they can. They themselves a nosey lot, always looking to stir the pot and cause some excitement. She has long since stopped pretending anything else matters. Her computer chirps with incoming mail, the phone ignored.
"I worked down town then at the Hilton."
Most of the offenders claim to have job experience at fine restaurants. Closest the majority of them had was eating out of the dumpsters in back of the upscale establishments. But she believed Ralph. He had no reason to lie to her.
"I could really produce when I was tripping. That was the only way I could work so hard so fast and for so long."
"I drink a lot of coffee", the blushing girl injected trying to relate but unsure of the tone the conversation was heading.
"Until one night I was working a buffet and Donald Duck walked up to my station and I almost lost it in public."
"Donald Duck?"
"Yes. I saw Donald Duck but knew it could not be Donald Duck. He started out with a mans body and Donald's face and kept turning more duck like. But I saw him in a crowded people filled banquet and knew I had to keep my head straight and not freak out. I got through that night and driving to my friends house after work the city lights seamed wrong, way to bright. The city too big. I curled into a ball under the table at my friends and he helped me through it. I knew I couldn't drop acid anymore. I stopped the coke and weed after that."
"The girl took a drink from the Styrofoam cup and the man resembling Bill Clinton mimicked her action. The sound of the offender workers outside her office seamed farther away then. The curious faces that would peer in at them occasionally more distant.
"I would drive all the way home up north after I came down so my wife would not know. Mary would have left me had she known."
The girl knew it was against all policy to be drawn to a person of his standing, but she was a little disappointed he had a wife to share this intimacy with.
"But that was a long time ago. A lifetime." Ralph smiles and nods, ending his account, his eyes twinkling.
"Ralph. You do realize we are in a prison and I used to work in a rehab?" she teases.
"Yes, he replies standing and gathering his things. "Just be ready on Monday when I stop by in the morning and pick you up before we head out to train the Rush City facility.
"Can we light one up on the way over boss?" she asks the mans Stefano Ricci clad back.

And I pay for it

2009-10-23T10:19:00.000-07:00

mechanics are rapists
fucking me over every time
without the civility of a ruffie.

Excuse me.

2009-10-09T09:15:00.000-07:00

Top ten excuses I have used to get out of work:

10- "I have to go shoot my porn video now".

9-"My brother in law is laying on my porch roof with a broken ankle".

8-"I have a job interview I gotta sober up for."

7- "My alien baby is giving me the vapors."

6-"I can't tell you what happened this weekend. But I gotta be in court on Thursday."

5-"I broke my eye glasses and have to wait for a ride in to the optometrist. His office is in Green Bay,"

4-"Today is my kids concert. I am the one who video records it for all the poor parents who miss their children's concerts. I gotta leave early cuse I do not know how to run the camcorder."

3- "The bar down the road is having happy hour prices all day long. I can fill my purse with cheap chicken wings and not rely on the pittance you pay me for showing up here. "

2- "I left 'Dude looks like a lady' on repeated when I left the house. I don't want my cat suffering gender confusion.

1-"Zombies took over my town. You are welcome to barricade yourself in my house with me now, or this is good bye."

Depression has it's signs.

2009-09-23T17:25:00.000-07:00

When two burglars jimmy your lock and come creeping into your house today, they won’t know that you’re home at first. All the lights will be off and the shades drawn, and it will be so musty and dank inside that they’ll assume the place has been left empty for a while. They’ll go about burgling without even worrying about the noise they make. They’ll even turn on the HDTV and check out the picture before they decide to unhook it.
It’s only after they’ve finished gathering all the electronics that they’ll make their way into the bedroom for the jewelry and find you stretched out face down across the wifth of your bed. They’ll freeze, unsure of whether you’re awake or asleep.
They’ll shine a flashlight on your back and watch it shiver as you release your peel of muffled sobs.
“Hey lady,” one will say.
“Just go away!” you’ll shout, without rolling over.
“We don’t wanna hurt you,” the other will say.
“Go ahead! Everyone else has!” you’ll shout back.
The burglars will be thrown. They’ll argue in whispers about what to do with you. Until you interrupt them.
“I said get out! Leave me alone!” you’ll shout, still not rolling over to face them.
They won’t say anything at first. Then:“We’re stealing all your stuff,” one will say.
"Yeah,” the other will add. “Don’t you wanna stop us?”
This will send you over the top. You’ll spring to a half-sitting position, place your reddened, tear-stained face directly in the beam of their flashlight and you’ll scream, “I SAID LEAVE ME ALONE!!!”
The scream will make each of them remember their own big sisters as teenagers. They’ll remember being concerned, listening at the bedroom door to the rejection tears coming from inside, then they’d get up the courage to shuffle in and ask what’s wrong, only to be commanded to leave with the most blood-curdling screech they’d ever heard.
You’ll fall back on the bed and the burglars will back-step out of your room, pulling the door part-way closed behind them.
They’ll argue in louder whispers in the living room, then they’ll gather up their loot and get ready to leave. Before they go, one will lean back into your bedroom.
“Hey,” the man who is about to take off with all of your valuables will say. “It’s gonna get better.”

Goiter Fear

2009-09-18T20:15:00.000-07:00

I have always had a horror of goiters and been troubled by bad dreams of getting one. I have nothing against the goitered, so if you happen to have one and are reading this, I don’t mean to be insulting; I’m sorry for your troubles and that being said, I just have an unholy fear of them, and this is why:
One day, when I was a little girl, I was at Curtis Drug with my mum. It was still an old-fashioned chemists soda-shop at that time. Curtis's store had huge apothecary jars, a great big marble counter, two spinning slushy machines and a bizarre collection of various stuffed or pickled albino animals on display behind the cash register along the back wall. If you were lucky you could sit on one of the shiny silver and red vinyl stools, as you waited on your medicine, with a rootbeer float in hand and divide your time by staring at the colorful twirling frozen drink machines or the freaky menagerie of dead animals as the comforting smell of menthol eucalyptus and floor wax filled the air.
I was pretty darn new then, maybe five or six on that day when I had mustered up the guile to walk around the end of the counter to the corner shelf to peer closer at the small oddities like the snow white weasel as I nursed my float and tried to ward off the impending brain freeze that was sure to follow.
Then I spied the old peanut butter jar labeled "albino dung" and ventured timidly closer.
I was busy coveting this treasure of critter poo that looked surprisingly similar to marshmallows floating in water when my mum concluded her business at the counter, said goodbye to Mabel Sweetock and turned to go.
I looked at the bizarre turds a fraction longer and then, turning to catch up with her, bumped right into the stomach of a purple old man. Not even purplish. Purple. With a pitted, veiny drinker’s nose and whorl wind teeth. And right there on his neck was a huge and shiny goiter. I froze in utter terror. I had never seen anything like it, even in a book. What horrible, terrible thing did this man have on his neck? And his nose! He must be very wicked indeed.
Then I ran to my mum's skirt and hid my face. I was all of a sudden ashamed of myself because I knew I must have hurt the old man’s feelings, but it was the most vivid moment of raw, bulbous terror I’d ever had in my short life.
My mum flapped me out of the shop and, as it was obvious I’d taken a real fright about something, she left me be once we got home and I had put my older brother Butch's insulin in our old Frigidaire.
The handle had broken clean off our refrigerator's solid door so dad had wielded a big heavy rebar triangle onto the latch forming a new handle. To open the door I had to brace my feet wide and tug with both hands repeatedly with all my weight. Maybe dad had that planned when he designed the new opener, as us kids really had to be hungry to open that metal Behemoth. I'm sure in the long run it had saved our family a tidy sum in grocery money.
I hid for the rest of the waning afternoon under the willow tree at the edge of our yard as the root beer churned in my belly and I lost myself in thought about that grotesque monster cleaving to that man's throat. Glimpses of the Jethro Tull Aqualung album hidden away from my tender eyes in the back closet filtered through the slim green leaves, mixed with images of my new nameless fear and caused me to clutch Goldie the Tom cat too hard for his comfort until he wrangled out of my arms.
I was straddling Goldie probing his neck with my finger tips when Butch's GTO crawled into our dirt drive.
Butch always drove slow on the gravel so as not to chip The Judge's glossy silver paint, even though he washed his pride every day.
Knowing I had a better chance staying safe and finding answers with my big brother than alone with an uncooperative cat, I scampered over to the side of the house where Butch was filling a soapy bucket from a hose and sat on my haunches pointing out spots as Butch scrubbed.
"Butch?"
"What Squirt?"
"You know Mr. Dallahyde?"
I had heard the clerk address the deformed man as Mr. Dallahyde before mum brusquely ushered me from the drug store.
My brother knew everyone. After all he worked in the big window factory twenty four miles east in the next town over. The next county even.
He tried to reassure me that Mr Dallahyde, the owner of the goiter, was a very nice old man who’d lost his wife (where?); that it was not anything very terrible at all; and that it wain’t a separate, living demon latched on to the poor man’s throat.
But I wasn’t listening because I’d heard, for the first time, the name of the swelling. Goiter. The ugliness of the word made me shudder. Goiter-goiter. Goiter!
Butch handed me the little wire brush when he finish the body of The Judge and my slim fingers worked the bristles around the hub cap spokes as my mind worked around my brothers explanation.
I was not sure I believed him.
When mum had caught me flipping off our sister she had asked Butch to have a talk with me.
"You do not show your middle finger to your sister", he had said in his I mean business voice."
Why? Can I show it to mum?"
"You do not show your middle finger to anyone."
"Can I show it to Goldie?"
"Little girls do not show it to anyone!"
"Can I show this finger?" I asked holding up my pointer.
"Yes. That finger you can show."
"Can I show this finger?" I asked holding up my pinky.
I then proceeded to ask after each of my digits before I changed my venue after I flipped off my mum who was scowling across the kitchen at me in the next room.
"Why?"
"It means something bad" Butch said in a serious whisper.
"What does it mean?" I whispered back holding up my middle finger at my big brother but cupping my other hand around it just to be safe.
"Eagle."
"Eagle?"
"Stopping flipping people the eagle ok?"
Butch left at that point having done his duty but not explaining any further why a bird that was on money was such a bad thing I could not show anyone.
But on that traumatizing day Butch had yet to apply the turtle wax and buff his prize Pontiac so I had his time.
"But why do people get a gggoiter?" When I had to say that repulsive word, I cleared my throat with it, as if by doing so I would expel any beginning of unsightly tumors.
"Lack of iodine, little one. People need iodine in their food or they grow bumpy. Now clean The Judge faster or I'll give you some bumps to worry about.
"I had never noticed any iodine in mums kitchen cupboards.
I had considered telling Butch we hadn't picked up his insulin so he would let me ride The Judge with him all the way back into town where he would buy me goiter repellent at Curtis's, but I didn't.
At the dinner table that night I scrutinized my family's Adam's apples as I rubbed my tingling neck. They all appeared normal. None of the garden vegetables or the venison tasted like the dark foul smelling medicine mum would dab from the little glass bottle on the scrapes from that I would bleed when I crashed the rattle trap bike dad had made for me from various pieces of others rides and junk yard finds. I had meant to ask dad if my brothers iodine theory was right, but he had asked me to get the milk out, which led to a quarter hour tug of war with the fridge door so I missed my opportunity.
I would have asked my sister in the big bed we shared later that night but but she was the sort who smugly knew everything and hold it over me so I would have to flip her the sign of money to set her right. In the darkness she might miss my slam.
So I sat on the toilet with my peddle pushers pooled around my ankles swinging my legs before bed while I studied the skull and cross bones on the side of the iodine bottle mum kept in the chipboard cubby dad had built into the corner of my bedroom he had turned into the family bathroom after he had been paid by the Gillie family with their out cast stained porcelain fixtures for fixing their potato harvester.
Knowing I had to do something that would keep me from frightening my self and cause strangers to hide their eyes from my countenance I threw open the door that led from the bathroom straight into our bedroom and snapped on lights. That was easy to do, as the switch for our bed room was still in the bathroom.
"Read this ", I demanded of my literate sister who probley was just laying there solving math problems and practicing next years spelling words in her head instead of worrying about the impending doom of all our pie holes.
"Do not take internally."
Not knowing the difference between internal and eternity, I vowed to myself to stop drinking iodine tincture as soon as I felt safe from the evil of goiters.
I have never suffered from any physical malformations before of after that night I threw up all the bathroom sink, and then later on my sister tucked snug in our bed - aside from a hive or too, and that one thing the good doctor's caustic acid made disappear. But now and then when my husband is on the road and I know not where, those dreams come back.

Peace Out

2009-09-15T17:46:00.000-07:00

I am basking in the zen from the first three steps toward becoming a hippy.

1) I renounced all my worldly possessions. Then I reneged and just put all the junk my boys never use on the porch and called the charitable donations to come pick it up so I would get a tax break for my good intent. I did however include my unused ironing board because I'm pretty sure wrinkles are natural.

2) I painted an abstract picture of a fox. You may call it a raccoon. But to me it is a fox. Then I felt almost guilty about washing the oil based paint brushes drain. So I shot some clay pigeons instead of tasty small creatures to enhance my karma.

3) I enrolled in folk school and am taking the boys with.

4) Then I called the realtor.

" Screw you guys, I'm going Hippy."

Come to my window

2009-09-03T16:33:00.000-07:00

Why is the window closed

I do not want to share you with the masses

classless, stateless, oppressive free

my little cabbage

you can't bulldoze me

so much for my one man party

Dictate my Lips

2009-09-02T18:14:00.000-07:00

Kiss me out of the bearded barley

Nightly beside the green green grass

Swing swing swing the spinning step

You wear those shoes and I will wear that dress

Oh kiss me beneath the milky twilight

Lead me out on the moonlit floor

Lift your open hand

Strike up the band and make the fireflies dance

Silver moons sparkling

So kiss me

Kiss me down by the broken tree house

Swing me upon its hanging tire

Bring bring bring your flowered hat

Well take the trail marked on your fathers map

Just kiss me

99 Luft Ballons

2009-09-02T17:38:00.001-07:00

Sure I would have put out for you on prom night.

My panties would have dropped faster than A bomb.

I can make you happier than a gymnist

2009-09-01T18:51:00.000-07:00

I lay awake at night
and pray you may see the light
but you never do
and you've caught diarrhea
from a girl named Alina

Bitch

Beautiful music

2009-08-31T18:43:00.001-07:00

We are taboo my Romeo
what with your troops
stealing our land
livelihood
and family
my grandfather's people going
axe murder
on your army
but on the inside
my blood runs red
and I know
we could make beautiful music
together

Eye of the Munkay

2009-08-31T18:02:00.000-07:00

You can stop a hungry charging tiger
but you cannot censor an amorous Munkay

Munkay and Putin sitting in a tree

2009-08-31T17:04:00.001-07:00

Because doodling you name on a note book is not enough
noone can obsess like me.

Baby it's cold outside

2009-08-29T10:03:00.000-07:00

You
Me
a bottle of Red wine
I wouldn't care if you have gas

Please don't freeze my heart.

2009-08-29T09:58:00.001-07:00

The Rock?
He meant nothing to me.
Besides he smiled too much.

You can leave your hat on....

2009-08-29T06:12:00.000-07:00

Gimme a hug
my big Russian bear
they finally took the hand cuffs off

In Soviet Union Bath Takes You

2009-08-29T06:03:00.000-07:00

You can reach me by railway, you can reach me by trailway
You can reach me on an airplane, you can reach me with your mind
You can reach me by caravan, cross the desert like an Tzar man
I don't care how you get here, just- get here if you can

You can reach me by sailboat, climb a tree and swing rope to rope
Take a sled and slide down the slope, into these arms of mine
You can jump on a speedy colt, cross the border in a blaze of hope
I don't care how you get here, just- get here if you can

There are hills and mountains between us
Always something to get over
If I had my way, then surely you would be closer
I need you closer

You can windsurf into my life, take me up on a carpet ride
You can make it in a big balloon, but you better make it soon
You can reach me by caravan, cross the desert like an Tzar man
I don't care how you get here, just- get here if you can

I don't care, I dont care, I need you right here right now

I need you right here, right now, right by my side (yeah,yeah, yeah, yeah)

I don't care how you get here, just- get here if you can

Sparks will fly

2009-08-28T14:09:00.000-07:00

You like fire works
I like fire works
Call me
I got a mean Molotov cocktail recipe

Lost Cosmonaut

2009-08-28T11:05:00.001-07:00

You fill the space in the outer reaches of my heart
and that's coslright by me.

Kitten Kisses

2009-08-28T10:53:00.000-07:00

You stole my heart
Putin back

The candle light was lovely....

2009-08-28T09:53:00.001-07:00

You are thinking about me again
aren't you
and what we did last night
try to block out the sobbing and begging part

Send for me already

2009-08-28T09:36:00.001-07:00

My suit case is packed with flannel-red
worked my kettle bells standing on my head
the scythe and star tattoo healing fast
passport in hand
ready to forget my past
nothing can keep me away
take it how ever you want it

Don't be so hard boiled Puty

2009-08-28T09:23:00.000-07:00

You flipped my world
like a very beautiful unorthodox egg
why won't you stay for breakfast?

Make an accident happen baby

2009-08-28T08:51:00.000-07:00

I will not be your Laura
I do not play second domra
No way Jose.

Cook you ladkas even

2009-08-28T08:22:00.001-07:00

Wipe that look of dissent off that face young man
wipe it clean
you will grow up to be an intelligent powerful force one day
and then I will Bolskevik your heart
reform your potato loving soul

There will be vodka

2009-08-28T07:56:00.000-07:00

Come to my dasha
Mr. KGB man
Of course it's actually a
modest suburban split level
but I will putsch your heart
like only a crazy american woman can.

Putinism

2009-08-28T07:22:00.000-07:00

President prime Putin
Russian ladies love machine
economic reformer or fascist
I wanna touch your rod

Munkay vs The Law

2009-08-24T17:14:00.000-07:00

I want to do a victory dance and pump my fists in the air. I won I won I won. Not only did I succeed but I burned the bad guy. To bad I have to work for these people and not be able to even smile smugly.

I survived but only just

2009-08-20T18:57:00.000-07:00

First I was afraid, I was petrified...

Then it got worse.

I don't know whether to give you the full anabashed account of the "solidary retreat" that was my four day weekend at the lake, or whether to tantalise you with edited highlights.

Whatever it will be, all I know is that I don't really want to think about it right now.

It's good to be back in the Land of the underachievers.

There's no place like home.

Step Back Rug

2009-08-10T18:13:00.000-07:00

"don't jump!" i shouted to the suicidal rug. "don't jump"
a crowd gathered
i gestured to the suicide rug wildly
but it was too late the crowd had already formed
it's opinion of me

Think before you speach

2009-08-09T07:02:00.000-07:00

"You know once I give this shot to you there is no going back", the nurse waving the labor inducing drug told the over due woman.

Think before you speach

2009-08-09T06:58:00.000-07:00

"You'll be like 'poof' and then you will say, "Was that a ninja just now or did I have a little gas?"", he said trying to proove himself.

Think before you speach

2009-08-06T13:51:00.000-07:00

"Your skinnier than me" said the cubby waitress to the thin one as they both stood in front of the bathroom mirror, "but I got bigger boobs."

Think before you speach

2009-08-06T13:49:00.000-07:00

"I can't work any overtime because the bar won't cash my check if I make a higher amount.

Think before you speach

2009-08-06T13:45:00.000-07:00

"I need to smoke to slow me down." said the stoner as he sat in his dirty failing business. "Some people lose everything but not me."

Think before you speach

2009-08-05T14:58:00.000-07:00

"Us guys don't stink" said the poo cover dudes. "We smell manly."

Think before you speach

2009-08-05T14:51:00.000-07:00

"Cartoons take all my troubles away. The ones homework cause."

Think before you speach

2009-08-05T12:39:00.000-07:00

"You would make the perfect wife" said the bachelor. "You are not wife like at all."

Think before you speach

2009-08-04T14:23:00.000-07:00

"In the pasted he only masturbated in front of the staff in the unit. He might behave better for you in the kitchen."

Think before you speach

2009-08-04T14:14:00.000-07:00

"No I don't think a woman will ever go to the moon, their not strong enough" said the small minded secondary teacher to the girl who had just learned what ERA stood for.

Think before you speach

2009-08-04T04:14:00.000-07:00

"If I get you pregnate will you marry me?" said the man with eyes the color of burnt sugar.

Think before you speach

2009-08-03T18:39:00.000-07:00

"My beard only hates people" he bristled with a frown when asked how a facial expression may be a contributing factor to a conversation.

Think before you speach

2009-08-03T17:18:00.000-07:00

"Jimmy Carters mother is a negro", said the woman to her daughter."Miss Lillian is a black name."

Think before you speach

2009-08-03T17:13:00.000-07:00

"Look out so those birds up in that tree don't swoop down and chop off a piece of you man" said one offender to the other. "You know they could be those carny whores."

Think before you speach

2009-08-03T15:49:00.002-07:00

"I know how to end gorilla warfare" said the little girl. "Just hide in the jungle and shoot them before they see you.

Think before you speach

2009-08-03T14:56:00.001-07:00

I don't have school tomarrow. Eight to two I should get to stay up as late as I want.