Everyday Love Stories, Liam

I have fallen head over heels in love with an antiwar activist named Liam. He smells of lentils and righteousness.
I first met Liam at an anti war demonstration at the capital. He had the wildest curls I have ever seen and his vulgar songs about George W made me blush. "Munkay', he would smile with lips so sensual cupid would be envious and girls like me could only dream of kissing. "Who let the bombs out?"
At the time I had no idea who let out the bombs so I would just shrug my shoulders and hang my head in shame. But since that time the world has taught me things. Many many things, so when he calls me in the middle of the night from his two man pup tent to ask, "Munkay...Dear Munkay, who let the bombs out?", I tingle all over and joyfully yelp. "Bush! Bush and Chaney let the bombs out!"
Oh how I wish he would drunk phone me so I could seduce him with my own fiery passion.

Everyday Love Stories, Jerome

I have fallen head over heels with my Rainbow checkout clerk, Jerome. Jerome smells of Lysol and is a guineas at math. The florescent lights at the supermarket encircle his angle head like a halo when I look up at him. I like that his name tag reads his full name. JEROME all dignifiedish. No short casual nicknames like Jerry or Jer or Q. He knows every word to the 90's musac, my JEROME does. I try to engage him in conversation as I worship his check out isle, but all he has to say to the likes of me is, "That will be 8.23 please. Out of a twenty? 11.17 is your change. You saved .37 cents by shopping at Rainbow."
(I told you he was a math genus.) How my aching heart yearns for him to push our cart off into the sunset with me.

Everyday Love Stories, Pizza Dude

I have fallen head over heels in love with Pizza Dude. Pizza Dude smells of spicy sausage and underachievement. When he asks, "Do you need anything else Ma'am?", I want to answer "Yes. A healthy nutritious meal filled with warm loving abeyance, candle light and soft upbeat music. Perferably in the company of a well groomed reasonably intelligent adult (male) in possession on a sense of humor and selflessness."
But when I answer, "No, I'm good.", Pizza Dude just grabs my cash and slams the door on me.
The river of tears I cry leave my sauced face splotchy. I never get the chance to tell him goodbye.

Everyday Love Stories, Josh

I have fallen head over heels in love with Josh. Josh smells of testosterone and gym mats. His bicep circumference is larger than his IQ, but when he flexes, Lycra is my best friend. I clap my hands and squeel like I am the retart. When Josh tells me of the wheelie he popped to win back his ex-girlfriend, I sob big beefy tears.

EveryDay Love Stories, Norm

I have fallen head over heels with saliport Norm. Norm smells of Old Spice and compliance. Every morning I step into the saliport in front of Norm's observation desk. Sometimes, when I am brave, I do not scan my badge before entering. Norm will say, "Try scanning your badge again, you did not show up." That's my Norm. He notices me. Someday my Norm will say "Good Morning". That day I will know he loves me too.

90 Degrees of My Heart

I love you AC
it purrs a chilled reply
we need each other

Then and Now

I don't know. You tell me which came first.

Then and Now

When he was born, he weighted the same as 2 blocks of butter.

Now and Then

Then



Now

Just What I'm Made Of

I’m cobbled together haphazardly, bits and pieces of everything I’ve ever seen and some I've only imagined. Though if you disassemble me and inspect the parts, you won’t find me there. No essence, no depth, no soft or hard core, no creamy center. I’m a container and mostly self-contained, just use caution if you pop the lid. I’m a uncompleted jigsaw puzzle, a mosaic of recycled scraps, a journal of selected memories randomly recorded in my sleep.

Tropical Soughing

There. I did all I had to do. I planted the seed.
"Ooh-we could have us some fun in Mexico."
I smiled when I seen the image of us frolicking in the balmy surf take root in his eye. The illicit taboo. Secret and forbidden.
We could have fun, but I do not intend for him to go with me. He will come up with an excuse not to go. I am counting on it.
It will be his guilty conscious that will send me.

Baby Fears

Ten things that scared me, age seven.


Dads dress shoes.
The deep end.
The word eternal.
Aunt Tillie's cloak.
Beets.
Horses.
Whooppee John.
The attic.
Division.
My sister leaving me.

Three of these things still frighten me.

Gas Haiku

Honda's sound like farts
You stink and pass me by
Laughing to the bank.

Deport Moi?

Ten of the most un-American things I've done.

10 Rooted for the Russian in Rocky 4.

9 Enjoyed voting.

8 Answered those stupid rude Brits at the beach in Finland by swearing at them, telling them part of my phone number and a couple foods in Finnish, when they asked me about the bus in English.

7- Knew the words to "Oh Canada", before the "Star Spangled Banner."

6 Loves Jimmy Carter.

5 Doesn't buy that moon landing conspiracy.

4 Blows things up all year long.

3 Is not self entitled.

2 Is confused by the song "Be Kind to Your Web Footed Friends". "Huh? Why do they sing about ducks to be patriotic?"

1 Has never watched an intire "Idol".

I'M SPARTICUS

The saddest thing I every saw
was once fearless cowboys
washed up on the asphalt shore

No one yells I'm Spartacus anymore

Light Fingers !0

I've stole kisses off these lips a million times. In about a month they will no longer be legally mine. I will still steal off them. It will just be harder.

Light Fingers 9

I steal recipes. Here I am making my pulla bread. It is mine because I took someones recipe, added some cardamon, and almonds on the top.

Light Fingers Eight.

I steal hearts. This note was written to me by one of my superiors. Notice in it he both thanks me and says he loves me. This was left on my desk the day after I called him at 2:00 am on the first day of his vacation to fill in my job for me. I made sure I left it on my desk an extra day so my staff would see it.

Light Fingers Seven

I've taught my kid to steal. He steals kids for me.

Light Fingers Six

This I got off my door at the Hotel Palace in Helsinki Finland.
It was a gorgeous old palace we stayed in. I had jet lag so bad I used the men's lavatory. Then we couldn't figure out how to turn on the lights in our room for a day. I crawled into bed to sleep in between the mattresses. OK I thought it's Finland, land of ice, the top blanket is just really thick. One day I hung this on my door when I needed to sleep in. I thought it meant "Do not disturb". When the maid barged in on me, she did not speak English. I tried to tell her to skip my room but she was determined to clean or explain what ever she was shouting about as she pointed to this sign. She must of thought I was just a rude crazy American because I took of down the hall and around the corner to my sisters room to sleep. She chased me almost all the way there. (She probably thought I was taking off to the front desk.) I was in my under ware. When I need my sleep, I need my sleep.

Light Fingers 5

These mugs they gave out to the guests at my last job. It fits perfectly in my cup holder. Plus, drinkin from a rehab mug adds to my bad assyness.

Light Fingers 4

winter


No, I did not steal a season. It is just a word. But I did not steal a word. This was my old bossess password. No I did not steal his password. He gave it to me. I used to do all his work for him using this password. My company sent him to a different job. Now that I know how to do his job, the company has offered me his old one. I did, however use this password to find out what kind of money his salary, so I know how much to ask for.

Light Fingers 4

At one of my jobs, the company made every employee sit through a two hour talk about the cost of workplace thiefery. Afterwords, I started saving rubber bands off the asparagus. We wasted so much there I thought it ironic.

This I named my retirment ball. My plan was to save enough rubber bands to start my own tourist attraction and charge admission. When I got mad and walked off my job, I took my retirment ball with me. Forgot my expensive knives, but remembered my ball.

It has grown to shocking perportions.

And has brain sucking powers.

Light Fingers 3

I stole the credit for this womans breakfast.

When in fact, K2 did alot of the work.
.

Light Fingers 2

After my premature son was born the nurses brought me a circumcision permission waver into my hospital room for me to sign. When I asked about what pain meds they would give my son, they said none. So I asked the doctor the same question. He became very upset that I would waste his time questioning a routine procedure. My son had been in the ER for two weeks so I had seen the plastic form they used to tie newborns in to do the snipping stained with blood and feces. After I refused to sign, my discharge nurse tried to slip the consent form in on my paperwork as I left the hospital before my son. So I stole this thing they were going to use on my baby's penis. My son uses it to extract fish hooks from the insides of fish he has caught. And he has never gotton and infection, thank you.

Light Fingers

When I worked at the Cheese Bistro, my Christmas present was this Gouda, along with a bunch of other left over unsellable junk. The place was known for their Gouda. They also sold Tilsit. And cheddar and other cheese that all tasted like Gouda. I hate that cheese.
After I had quite, and they hired their new wonder boy chef, they jacked their restaurant prices up and tried to do only fine dinning.
The cheese Natzi was driven from the restaurant by her family and plunged them into debt.
Recently I had lunch at that bistro. The food was horrid. I stole this fork, because it is a pasta fork, and it had always irked me. I told her, at least buy the proper silverware instead of the 10,000 cappuccino machine but she never did listen.

The Hardest Compliment

When I drive the big food service truck over to the west unit, I always get a raise.
West houses the baddest of the bad. The boys who are not aloud with the general population. But the men in west need food too and sometimes it is my job to drive the delivery truck and bring them the carts that hold their meals. I do not go into that building. Eight of the best of the worst offenders are escorted out by guards to push the heavy metal holding carts into their unit. It is my job to transport and operated lift gate on the back of the truck. The correctional officers do not want the men to talk to me. It is disruptive and could incite trouble. Basically it is the only time these men are outside. The only time they see a woman.
A couple bad boys, when I first started, tried to chat me up as I stood running the device that lifts their carts onto the truck, but they were ushered rapidly back inside and their privileges taken from them. The west men soon learned not to start anything with me. They became as scared of me as I them.
But then, they started leaving me secret messages. Messages on the sides of the carts the guards cannot see as the inmates push the heavy wheeled carts back to my truck. They use their condiment packages to communicate with me. My first reaction to their attempt startled them.
Every day I get a new mosaic made from ketchup, mustard and salad dressing.
Every day I get a new drawing of an erect penis.
Every day I laugh out loud. The guards know not why.

Mirth to Woah.

I was devastated when they said my depression had lifted. What shall I do now, I wondered, when opportunity accosts me in the street?

Depression had always been my escape route. "I can’t do that" I would mournfully sigh, leaning on my bucket of Prozac "I’m depressed", and opportunity would bother me no more. But the depression has lifted. The ace up my sleeve has been ruthlessly removed. My crutches kicked out from under me.

I am completely screwed.

Got My Guard Up

He is my favorite. He is my favorite guard and I'm going to tell you why. He is big. He is beautiful. He is young. He is dedicated. And a little slow.
He waits for me. He waits for me, that guard does. And I am glad to see him.
When I put my key in the door in the pre dawn hours and I see his muscular body sitting in the darken office, my morning instantly brightens. I know the hours between 4 and 6 will start gentle, the way nature intended.
I pour myself into the chair across from his and sigh. That is all he needs from me, only a sigh.
He does not speak to me at first. But when he does turn toward me, and he always does, his movements are liquid.
And then his smile. His smile warms me. Like a blanket unfolding it's self around me, his smile draws me in, before he begins.
His voice is amiable in my ear. Low and smooth his words greet me. He speaks of beautiful things. Places that bring him joy. Idea's that bring him passion. Thoughts I yearn to hear more of.
We sit there together in that office behind the one way glass watching the heart of the facility stir to life. I watch the cooks create the breakfast and he makes sure we are safe. He is the first person I see in the morning and I the last he sees at night. He needs someone to talk too, and all I can do is listen. We are a good pair, he and I. We are a good pair. He will tell you that, and I will only nod when he does.

Stardust and Golden

I want to be Bohemian
burn my heels and tie
tell the man to kiss my ass
revolution on my mind

I'll pry the name off my door
use it for a rolling tray
picture the company VP naked
wait I do it anyway

Dine on scavenged Ramon
for my breakfast say two
hunt your own food kitty
the monies kinda thin

Cut my own hair way off short
all appearance indifferent
(like I give a shit now)
drop my clothes on a whim
and bath infrequently

Practing cursing the repo man
gimme shelter - let me in
name my next spawn JackCat Dylan Brown
sell my home made granola for free in town.

Live with no direction home
Time to do my own thing
Beautiful, my revaluation
I wonder if I can.



*i know it doesn't rhyme, make sense or flow. i'm a freakin hippie now, i can do what i want.

Unsent Letter

Dear You,

I will confess to having been obsessed lately, thinking day and night and all points inbetween of what physical object I can possibly send you to accompany these failed missives of apathy and torment, written with such diligence and care before they are torn up and thrown dismissively into the flames.

This morning, as I lay under my cover, it came to me in a blinding flash of inspiration. I am going to send you the first sight that meets my gaze upon waking.

Enclosed: one pair of eyelids.

Please observe the back of them, for this is what I see before I force myself to open my eyes and face yet another day. Note the flickering swirls of colour, the fluctuating nerves of delicate skin, the sticky residue of sleep crystals gathered at the edges.

Since I can no longer close my eyes, you should fully expect your next letter to be tightly wrapped around a package containing the ghostly dance of car headlights that float across my bedroom ceiling at night. I know you treasure each and every gift I send, but please be sure to always take extra special care of them as if they were your own - though I am well aware that you are now living in the desert and have not seen a car headlight or even a human being for some fifteen years.

Hope you are well, that the weather is clement, that the sands are shifting, that the solitude is proving invigorating rather than maddening, and that there are no further signs of plagues of locusts. I don’t wish you were here. Not especially, anyway.

Maddenly Yours Forever,

Munkays Pubis Service Announcement-7

So you are suprised to find a little bit of red hair in your shower
face it- your baby is a tweenager
Talk to someone, mother of strawberry blond

Munkays Public Service Anouncement-6

If ice cream is your best friend
embrace the relationship
because brain freeze hurts much less than loneliness

Munkays Public Service Announcement-5

If you are feeling bad about having to work on mothers day-
Fire someone.
Warm yourself up the day before by axing Stewie the driver for showing up smelling like a bartenders pour mat.
Then pick the morning cook who likes to spend her day screaming obscenities at inmates and reading romance novels.
Do it. It will make the world and your day, better.

Munkays Public Srvice Announcement-4

If you work at a historic inn reputed to be haunted don't run off scared.
Instead run down into the basement coal furnace room turned wine cellar bar every chance you get.
Alternate yelling, "Dang it's cold in here. Isn't anyone tending the fire in the work house?" and "Hey Buddy, I'm just coming for a bottle of wine, know where there is a nice merlow? Don't hurt me."
Tell the owners you've cleaned the kitchen from top to bottom you've yet to find the origin of that poopy diaper smell. Blame the ghost if you have to.

Munkays Public Service Announcement-3

When everyone at your job hates and wants to kill you
Don't stress.
Put a spring in your step,
Take a stroll around your work space,
Pull your chin up-
And Whistle. (don't stop)
Next person you encounter with a dumb shit question or demand
will believe you are the craziest motherfucker around
And leave you the hell alone.

Munkays Public Service Announcement 2

When your in an "it" restaurant, in the good part of town, say no to a $15. brownie.

No brownie is worth that.

Even if your best stomach says things like,

"C'mon man. When are you going to get another $15 dollar damn brownie."

Just walk away.

Munkays Public Service Announcement-1

Spay and neuter your pets.

Permanent contraception makes you a responsible animal owner.

And go the extra mile, sharpen your can opener before you do.

The residual alcohol will double as a disinfectant.

Gone to the Dogs

Too busy to write so go here. That was a command Spike.

http://www.cafepress.com/dogdammit


Then maybe I'll rub your belly if you are good.

Everything is not Enough

Why won't he love me. Why won't he love me. I asked myself that daily. I am deserving. I am good. I've done and been everything I possibly could. Protected him. Stuck up for him when everyone else was against him and I myself didn't even totally believe in him.
I put him before my own personal welfare. My love for him has robbed me of my sleep. My health. Put his needs before my own. All I get from the him is disdain.
I have betrayed my husband for this male. Compromised my integrity. Lowered my self to enabler status.
I lay with him and him alone . It is a troubled rest. The best I can get from his lips is half hearted "wow" in the early morning hours.
I am just not what he needs. I am not wild.

The Pre Game Game.

Every morning, the goal is to open your eyes before your brother. You can't use any alarms or wake up calls. Just the strategy you take down into your unconsciousness with you. It doesn't count if you wake up before 5. You're allowed to wake up before 5 if you want and wait for the clock to click past 4:59. But you can't make a move before . (Mom will hear you and awake very angry.) This has often led to the two of you waking at around 4:45 and then just snugly planing your execution for fifteen minutes, waiting to spring down the hall into action. Nowadays though, it's gotten so routine that you both sometimes sleep as late as 8 AM before one of you wakes up and runs off into the basement to game. You're both really busy too, so it's rare that a real match comes about. Usually, the one who wakes up late just lets himself take his time so he can get into the shower first (he has hid the controllers). Maybe once a month, you'll both put up a good fight, but both of you would say it's just for old time's sake. Anyway, today when you woke up, you saw that the clock said 7:12. You raced past your brothers room and toss the cat onto the center of an empty bed. An air born cat to the gut is the fastest way to announce your early morning gaming advantage to unconscious sibling. But your brother never came home last night. And he's still not home.

He fell in love. He's 38. Your 44.

Spitting It Out

are you happy, i say
and the answer like cotton candy in the mouth
dissolves between us in a rain storm
yes he says
the invisibility of the image
like lemon drops on the tongue
i don't know what love feels like
a bruise from trying to hold the phrase
for too long in the palm of my hand

The Big Day

Head- Clear
Eyes-Doted
Smile -Bright
Voice-Commanding
Shirt- Pressed
Handshake-Firm
Briefcase-Organized
Pants-Peed

Jesus is Contraband

9:15 am, Friday Morning Meeting:



Assistant Warden:



"OK Can I have everyone's attention now? We have a lot to cover here today. Officer Sharbero over in south C reports offender Jasmer hurt is ankle last night unwitnessed on the stairs in that unit and refused medical attention. Was a first report of injury written? Make sure one is written by Officer Sarbero today, Lieutenant Esklia, alright? Good"

"A fight broke out over in west yesterday involving two inmates who where joined by a third over a newspaper. Is this correct Lieutenant Gulette? Just the sport section? Ok. I understand they were both hauled to seg by squad? Good."

"A shake down over in Triad came up with 2 tooth brush shivs and a vial of unknown oil. Religious ceremonial oil? I want a follow up on that, we need to know what is in that container, Lieutenant Sophomore."

"A small fire happened in the kitchen yesterday when a pile of greasy rags was left by the pilot light of the deep fryer. All rags will be disposed of and not washed, am I right Munkay. Right."

"Another paper mache Jesus was found in K3 by the IFI team? Bruce. Not another Jesus . A toilet paper Jesus. I believe you that it is really beautiful but please tell you students to show their enthusiasm in a more appropriate means. No you can keep your personal collection, but leave them at home. Sure sell them on E-Bay. On your own time."

"Amendment to policy 217, goes into effect starting Monday. Please read the full detail that are E-mailed to you."

"Have a good day people, and a safe weekend."





*IFI=interfaith intuitive

On My Way Out

fast-forward 6 months from then
She likes to think of him in those early morning hours before the light chases the dull grey out of everything in the house. When she's up and dressed and ready to leave for work while he's still folded up in the sheets. Twisted like he's been fighting off something much more serious than morning--than the alarm clock ring. Before starting off for work, she always stands in the doorway of the bedroom and fights against the demon of reaction these moments cause. To wake him. To whisper. To undress and slip back under his warm breath and body. He always moves to her side. His hands reaching in the direction she was an hour or so before. Leaving stings the skin. Every time. More than I ever wanted her to believe. This morning, she places her head into the back of his neck. Sucking in the smells of his skin and hair. Like a just unwrapped bar of soap. And leather. Kissing a fine line of the story about the way in which she loves him across his neck. He's clutching her arm. Inaudible noises through the cover of sleep and pillows. And she wonders if he misses her. The way the sheets never forget the smell of him when he's gone.

Even Though You Don't Live Here Anymore

i bought you a bottle of gin at the store. got home and placed it next to the coffee maker by the sink. and waited. i picked up the wrong kind. and had to try to remember the words: blue sapphire . it's sitting there. staring at me. and even though you don't even live here anymore. we get into a huge fight in my head about how i got the wrong kind. and i tell you to get fucked and never come back. then you slam all the kitchen doors and mutter mean things about me when i start crying on the couch. and i tell you to get the hell out. and we break it off again.

Her Career Heads South

"McMurdo Station", he repeated."Antarctica?"
"Yes", she replied.
He smiled.
Maybe he now will wait her return.

Devil Under My Bed

You ever have a wonderfully exciting idea's that you know is horribly wrong even before you have completed saying it? Ever wish could experience rapid onset lock jaw? Yes? Course you have. Bob is one of those misguided realizations. I know I should have shut my yap mid-sentience just once.

. A normal persons reaction might of went:

"Oh you have a wild creature terrorizing your domestic pets and scaring your goats? That sucks."
Instead out of my unthinking mouth gushed, "A bobmanx! I have all ways wanted one!"

At "You want it?", I could have done a u-turn and saved face. But no. Buy that time the dark force had my tongue.

So they live trapped him and I brought him home. The devil rode shot gun.

Bob spent his first night in my kitchen. When I opened his door the next day to slip in some food, in a flash he clawed his way over me. He rearranged my house like a Tasmanian.

Bob tore through my kitchen in the early morning hours, ripping curtains, removing art work , tipping furniture, and undoing taxes.

I confronted his backside once he wedged himself for some personal time behind a TV. I tossed a blanket over Bob and recaptured him with out waking the family. It was too early in the day to hear "I told you" so's. Besides I was running late for an important work meeting.

Wanting to hide my stupid evil unthought out actions, I hid his cage away safety from my family in my bedroom. Not wanting to be cruel I let him out to roam my bed/bath.

I do not see him often during the day light. I have caught him watching me from a vantage point as I brush my teeth in the mirror from the top of this towel cabinet. At first it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up like a...Manx.

He likes hanging with the dust devils under my bed. I hear him come out at night. During the day, I spend quite time alone with him and enjoy talking with him. This afternoon I read him the local paper.

"Bob. Did you know Micheal Bolton is coming to the Grand Casino Hinkley? Wanna go? Me either."

I just wish he'd finish off that box old chocolate covered cherrys under there.

*I had to drive to the food vender's event in Wis with my boss and bosses boss. That was a road trip, what with me getting blood all over the fancy sports car. "Hey, we need to stop at another bar to disinfect Munkay's scratches."

Absurd Love Word Finaly

Want to hear my absurd love words?
I got better things to do
lick your boots-drive your car
stalk you from afar.

That's ok, there really not about you.

Absurd Love Word 9

At night I dream of you alot.
Remember me?
Do I still give you the hebegebies?

Absurd Love Word 8

Can you see my heart beating
Every time we meet up in town?
Crowds really scare me.
Sorry.

Absurd Love Word 7

Sometimes I wake with stars in my eyes
Sometimes I wake with swirls
Sometimes I wake with dust in my eyes
Sometimes I wake with tears.
Yet always I lie there wondering
If you, did you, and why did you
Drop an anvil on my head
In the night?

Absurd love word 6

I told you I loved you
You said thank you
you are nothing

but polite

Absurd Love Word 5

I went out for a drink
and got sick in my chair
woke up with a headache
and a picture of you kissing her

Absurd Love Word 4

I hung by the phone all night
climbed into bed fully dressed
in case you still wanted to have dinner
even the next morning

Absurd Love Word 3

I think of you everyday
they say "get a live"
I answer
no

Absurd Love Word 2

Marry me I shouted
No thank you you sighed
So I wrote you a letter
knocked back a box of wine
planted myself under my mail box
waiting on your reply



(it's been two years)

Absurd Love Word 1

Some get
unrequited love
some get
stalking charges

How Sick am I

The freak in me:


Always slows down and looks at the wet bio hazard evidence locker in hopes of seeing something on her way into work every morning.

Has a never ending black head on her rib cage she talks too.

At least once a day starts a conversation with the phrase, "Wanna hear the most annoying sound ever?" And makes one only to amuse self.

Is angered by joggers, especially fat joggers that can run farther than I can. That's about everyone.

Always fixes the cat a snaky snack while watching Conan so she is not the only one who wakes up in the middle of night to eat. ("Huh? Kitty was hungry and woke me up mewing.")

Mentally cleans and rearranges other peoples kitchens. In the nude.

Brings in clumps of squirrel hair and hides in supervisors desk waiting for the day the guard dog does a sweep of our office. (Ha-ha! Lassie, Steve's hiding contraband- strip search him officer, he smells like rope!)

Once sneezed the biggest something out of nose and saved it to show family. Became very upset when cleaning lady threw thing out. Told CL when caught digging through trash I lost my contact.

Stoped testing the ketones in my urine samples (when diabetic) because the label said, "Do not use internally".

Has an impromptu speak written for when she wins "Iron Chef".

Challenges self to not shave to feel more exotically European. Grosses out small town mid west self and clogs drain. Tells husband it's his hair.

Saved every one of her kids baby teeth in an old prescription bottle. Later, swallowed teeth and still had a migraine

Inscribes every post with hidden love message for the Rock.

Spent the best part of an afternoon cleaning out a cabinet large enough to hold self. Contorted self into cupboard meant to hold a set of pots and pans. Instead of springing out to surprise husband, trapped self. ("Let me out. Please. I'll be good.")

Tells my teenager I wish he had never been born. I like eating for two.

Purposely mispronounces words such as jalapenos, Celtic, and fungi , just to see if any one is dorky enough to correct me. Then laughs at them if they do.

Has never told Hubby correct birthday. Chides him for getting it wrong.

Reads own blog. Is surprised when there is something new written.

Scratch and Dent Sale

Nothing fits, from dawn on through long afternoon into still and sleepy dusk. I am out to visitors inside my own skin, since today I am an unwelcome guest myself.
Your face don’t fit, honey. You ain’t comin’ in. Back behind the velvet rope with you.
Frame cracked, smeared glass, imperfectly aligned and picture crooked. Up a bit, up a bit, down a bit, down, down. Yes. Just there. That’s it. No. No, you’ve lost it. Try again.
We could improve you with a snip, you know. Another snip, a tuck and a slice. We could tear you into jagged strips, rip you senseless, then wipe clean crucial moments of your memory, incinerate your spare bits in the burn pile, bleed your veins dry of DNA, before trampling and scrunching your leftovers into a hidden landfill under cover of night. Job done - a dirty one, but some unlucky sucker’s got to do it. We would be through by morning, ready to stick a red warning flag in any orifice you like, warning of the added poison synthetics that may cause irritation and inflammation.
My hair is three sizes too loose. My scalp requires belting up. My cerebral cortex needs to be taken out back into a dark, wet alley and given a damn good kicking. My ears aren’t my own; never were, and never will be. Someone threw the mismatched pair at my head and they caught. My nose smells worse than it looks, my looks look worse through my eyes, and my eyes keep rolling sideways at inopportune moments, coming to rest with one gazing heavenwards and the other praying desperately for a final resting place. My fingers crack their knuckles menacingly, serving as a warning that my hands won’t ever stop itching for a chance to smack some sense into my sagging face. My skin sweats, and a single drop of the sugar-salt moisture coaxes my tongue forth to taste. I am the living and dying, inhaling and exhaling image of a perfect imperfect human-being; a being-human made flesh and bone.
From tip to toe and back again, nothing fits, nothing works.
This product contains moving parts. Maintenance should only be carried out by an authorised dealer. Warning: warranty void if removed.

My most sincere.

Thanks a million.
It’s such an insipid insincere expression, isn’t it?
Thanks a million. Like a virtual verbal air-kiss.
Mwuh! My fake spit is my gratitude.
I never say thanks a million, though I might say thanks a hundred. Or maybe thanks six.
Thanks ax2+by2+c.
Thanks a parabola.
Thanks a huge enormous biggest ever in the whole world hyperbola.
Thanks infinity.
Thanks a hankering.
Thanks a brain freeze.
Thanks an ounce. Thanks a bunch. Thanks a scab.
Thank heaven. Thanks ever so much.
Thank the academy.
Thanks a hail of bullets.
Thanks a reign of terror.
My favourite of all, and the one I use most often is this: Thanks.

I'm going to count to three

Sometimes I go into the bathroom
and stand in front of the mirror for a long time
with my eyes closed
usually, I'm still there when I open them.

Where to get off.

I'm going to tell you where to go. Go here-http://www.augustlalliflowers.com/August_Lalli_Flowers/Welcome.html
And check out her blog while you are at it.

Crying Out Loud

I was sad yesterday, but when I turned around and looked back at the man across the parking lot sobbing into his hands, my heart broke.
I wanted to rush back to him and grab him up, absorbing his pain. I needed to tell him it would be ok, his friend was in a better place now, but I couldn't honestly.
I ducked behind a car and thought this was just the begining for my son as he rocked back and forth, his large newly muscular shoulders hunched, his no longer innocent face hidden in his hands. There will be more loss for you in the future, more loved ones will leave you before their time. I cannot protect him from that.
Instead I turned, and continued on and gave him all I could. Time to miss his friend without reservation.

SSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Experiencing technical difficulties. Please stand by.

A Millisecond Two Long

you know the way silence feels sometimes
like that instant just after slamming your hand in a door
or stubbing your toe
but before the pain comes?
that's the way now wishing more
than a hundred thousand times
that i could take back what i'd just said
and why

Ice Princess

Consider yourself lucky if you make me scream.
You are one of the few.
Make me raise my voice and yell.
You have cracked my cold shell.
If you cause me to swing my arms with wild abandon
You have got me.
Cause me to turn red in the face
There is no going back from what you've seen
But if I only use my polite normal voice
You are nothing to me.

Actually it Was Never Hers

The sight of her bag by his front door always made him happy. The tattered gym bag meant the girl would sleep over. When she first started spending the night with him, only a change of under ware and cosmetics would travel with her. A bulging bag delighted the lonely man because it was his sign she was his for the weekend. Forty eight warm love filled hours. He would hide her bag on Sunday to prolong her visit. But he never begged her to stay. And so she left for good.

Lavandar

I reached for the forgotten bottle and opened the stopper.
The smell of warm floral sunshine drifted towards me and I thought of him.
I inhaled it's cheer and heard his deep laughter.
I let a drop land on my wrist and remembered his gentle touch.
Rubbing my hand on my throat I pictured his strong body.
My fragrant fingertips traced my navel and I reminisced our future.
I jumped back into the shower because he smelt of death.

My Part Time Gig

Why do you want another job? the staff asked, you work around food all day. My stomach growled and my mouth watered too hard to answer.


http://www.outinglodge.com/

nestled up high

i live up in the clouds. reality is not for me. people say i should come down. that the clouds are not a place for a grown up to be. i smile at them. maybe one day i'll come down. but i never will. reality is not for me. i will stay up here. the view is quite breath taking.

All I Want to Talk About

I've been trying to write you a letter. About the rules for playing Louisiana Pickle and the intricacies and benefits of hot cock sauce- the best possible way to maneuver drunk in a fishing vessel-and how to navigate my basement with or without the lights on. Should duck eggs be used exclusively in baking. Sometimes in it, I investigate why the delete key is missing from your keyboard, and the effects of etymology on the blind. And others just begin with a laundry list of your personal inefficacy's. Then some letters I try to write don't.

Go Head. Take a Swing. I Got Nothing.

Today I sucked.
The owner of my company witnessed my deficensey.
I am plain ineffective.
My boss to the second power enlightened me.
I need to try harder.
My peers informed me.
I am not doing their job.
My subordinates argued with me.
I am unknowable.
Sat alights phoned me.
I am blowing deadlines.
Customers huffed at me.
I am without reason.
Minions yelled at me.
I am right.
I whispered to myself.
After I chewed my insides up.
And spit them on the ground.

Mindless Hiaku

scar remains unseen
vague smile no one home blank stare
lobotomy success

A Shiver or a Tingle

10 things that give me a thrill

10-The sight of my son closing his trumpet case.
9-The fact that there are people at work that are too scared to talk to me.
8-The jar of Rocks hair that sits on my dresser.
7-Aliens visit me regularly.
6- The sound of my boys laughter in their sleep.
5-Those seconds when swooshing down a ski hill on the edge of control when I do not know if I am kicking gravity's butt or it will kick mine.
4-Knowing I am the only one in the family who is cowboy enough to not be scared to hand feed the bull.
3-The BBC version of Gordon Ramsey's Kitchen Nightmares. He takes is shirt of every time to change into his chefy coat. Full frontal Ramsey titties thank you luv.
2-My ability to chew my way out of restraints.
1-1 part tequillia,1 part Godiva chocolate liquore, 0 parts clothes

It Happens in Stockholm

Take me away, far far away with you. Sweep me away and off this plane involuntarily, sharply. Smile as you watch me battle myself and give in all the while knowing I won’t and I can’t because unknowingly willing prey simply doesn’t slip through your aching grasp.
Rip every shred of everything from me and lash me to your whims. Force me to feel, to beg, to scream, to squeal with sudden involuntary urges and wild abandon. Thrust me blindfolded into the folds of your mind and let me languish with only your deepest dreams for sustenance for days endless weeks turning to years and tear mixed laughter closing in around us in the dark, musty air of our secret hideout.
Force feed me your love through angush and watch as I leave myself, forget myself, rebirth myself through the canal of your mind and guidance of your touch. Invade me, lacerate my skin, tear me open and flesh me out.Reach in to grab fistfuls of my insides, shred to a fine dust and inhale them with all your senses. Breath new life into me, make me you.

Alms for Grandmother

I watched him for a long while before I volunteered my help. I had lingered while his large strong hands manipulating the crumbling dough between his thick fingers. "Can I help?" I asked. Alm jumped at the sound of my voice, his reverie broken by my question. His face flushed the color of the apples on the counter before him as he stammered his refusal. Everyone else in the kitchen disapeared like shadows in the sunlight at my approach. Caught with his hands in the gooey dough, Alm knew there was no way to deign his guilt. What he didn't know, I was more curious than angry. My eyes shifted from his face to the tattered yellow paper on the counter. It read-

1 cup flour
2 tablespoons sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 lb butter,
2 tablespoons water

apples
orange peel

1/4 cup flour
1/4 cup sugar
1/4 cup butter
1/4 teaspoon salt
cinnamon
allspice

"This your recipe?"
"No", he answered, "my grandmother's."
He would not let me help, nor did I offer my assistance again. But I stood and watched the ungainly janitor create the most delicious pastry to ever come out of that kitchen.
"Alm, you have no direction or measurements written down. How do you make it come out so perfect?"
"Grandmother would make this every Christmas. When I got older and she was sick, I would make it."
I could have sent him to the hole for stealing food. Instead I asked to for a copy of his recipe. I made sure he made enough for all the kitchen workers for his impromptu going away party.
The next day, Alm was shipped to a different facility to serve the remainder of his life sentience for killing his grandmother.

Six Word Memoir

My life in six words:

"Laughter and magic are her children."

Please leave your six word life story as a comment.

Horny But Sensitive

Name: Bone Head

Occupation: floral design

Hobbys: long walks in the moonlight, cud chewing, forien erotica

Use the Door Bell Next Time

Sometimes love chrashes down my door like a storm unannounced.

Othertimes love slips in and waits in a corner paitently for me to notice.

Next time it enters, I'm throwing my own welcome party.

And burning down the fucking house when it's gone.

Young Love

They celibrated their first anniversary in December. It was a year since they became offcial at last years school ski party. This year he got her a teddy bear with a secret love note on the inside to mark the occasion. He hangs at her house and helps her wash goats on her mom's farm. She comes fishing with him . This girl was the first female to infiltrate the gentalmens club in our basement. She lectures him about his home work, he teaches her how to shoot. This picture was taken at his twelveth birthday party.

Love Arangement

“Everything has its place,” explain to you buff new roomate. “And you arrange things according to a certain connection that allows the energies to flow properly throughout the room.”

“Makes sense,” he’ll say.

“If things are rearranged to break the feng shui, very bad things can happen and the house can become a terrible place to live.”

“Don’t want that to happen,” he’ll say.

“So we’re gonna have to slide the couch against the big wall. The entertainment center is gonna have to move over here by the window,” say to him. “And you’re gonna have to incert your tounge down my throat.”

“This goes back centuries,” he’ll say. “Can’t be wrong.”

Your hot roommate will help you to move the couch and the entertainment center and then you’ll both climb on the couch and he’ll groom your tonsils. The house will instantly feel much more livable.

Chocolate for My Heart

In my laundry room my husband keeps two first aid kits. The small one, is full of band aids and ointments that is kept with in easy reach of the children.

The other, he keeps stocked with emergancy chocolate and is unknown to the children.

Doing my wash has kept me from critical harm many times since I fell in love with him.

Eternity in Ten

Close my eyes and count back from 10 9been waiting all my life been waiting 8 7 please let it happen let it happen 6 5 seconds left my heart is racing 4 loves me loves me not 3 stop don't go don't 2 now or never now 1 stay I love you.

Wall Flower for Jacob Dylan

(ppst. that's me in the upper left corner)

Name: Grey Duck ( so my coif has changed as i've aged)

Occupation: Light House Keeper

Hobbies: Water sports, illusions, profiling

boisterious redheads need not reply

Tell Me Something

i do not care where you live or the car you drive.if you know some one who knows some who knows someone.if your clothes are this years hot item.if your trust fund is unlimited.if you are a list or b list or the i'm too cool to be listed.i only care about the words that vibrate from you mind.they are the only thing truly your own.the only thing i will remember you by.i did not fall in love with your bones and skin.i did not fall for the places you have been.i will only love you for the words that vibrate from your mind.

Spice Gurl Seeks Footballer

Name: Ginger

Occupation: Decoration

Hobbies: Catching some rays, looking coy, me time

Strange Love Triangle

Ephram and Wrinkly Joe finally found out that you were dating both of them at the same time, so they went off alone to determine who would be the one to keep you by his side.
You've been waiting at home for hours, wondering which boy would win your hand. You're about to hear a knock on your door, and when you open it you'll see Ephram there with a bouquet of daiseys in his hand.
"Ephram!", you'll shout. "You defeated Wrinkly Joe and won my hand. Oh what sort of gruesome duel did you two gentleman choose to serve as your battleground?"
Ephram will say, "We decided to settle it with a game of Frisbee golf.''Frisbee golf?", you'll ask. Ephram will then explain to you the object of Frisbee golf, which basically amounts to throwing a Frisbee at a bunch of trees. "But that game's real boring, so we gave up before we finished.'' "You left the game unfinished? Then how did you decide who would be the sole recipient of my affections?''
"Uno," Ephram will say. "But Uno sucks unless there's at least three or four people. So we had to play with my Mom and Wrinkly Joes other girlfriend Leslie.'' "And you defeated them all!" you'll shout. "Naaah," Ephram will grumble. "Couldn't win a hand. Neither could Wrinkly Joe. My Mom took two hands and my Mom's boyfriend Steve sat in on a hand and he took that one. Got sick of it after that.''
"Oh but I'm on pins and needles,' you'll say. 'What sort of challenge did you engage in next?''
"Jenga. Then Clue. Then we put on some Dance Revalution we both krumpt at a steady pace to see who could go the longest without colasping. We tied that one. Then did you ever do Sudoku?'' No!" you'll exclaim. 'But I've heard so many wonderful things about it! Is that how you won my love?" Ephram will say, 'Naaah. I just did a bunch of them while I was waiting for Wrinkly Joe to come up with some more ideas. I got so wrapped up in those number puzzles, I didn't even notice him leave. He left you this note. I'm gonna watch "Deal Or No Deal.'' Ephram will hand you the note from Wrinkly Joe and then he'll go into the living room to watch "Deal Or No Deal." The note will read as follows:

My Dearest,I loved you. But I'm just so tired of playing games. Wrinkly Joe.

As you fold up the letter, you'll feel a little heartbroken that Wrinkly Joe would let you go this way. Then you'll hear Ephram gasp at the TV. A contestant on "Deal Or No Deal" will have just decided to make a telephone call to an accountant. You'll cuddle up on the couch next to Ephram, and you'll be glad he's the one you ended up with. If Wrinkly Joe had won, you might never have been able to find out what plan of action the accountant will recommend. In short, you would be lost.

Fun Chick Looking For Hot Cock

name: Eagle

occupation: consultant

hobbies: scratching, pecking, skeet shooting

10 of Love

Ten of the strangest things I have done in the name of love.


10: Made it my mission to have a special education director fired.

9: I slept two weeks on a plastic public couch in a hosptial lobby.

8: I made his favorite food, drove across the state for a surprise lunch. Then moved his office furniture in front of his windows and had sex with him instead.

7: Lied to the attendance office to spend his birthday with him and him alone. Yearly.

6: Arm wresstle and never win.

5: Volenteered to clean the church every week. The church across from his house. (I spent most of my time out at the car trying to get the vacum out of the trunk and waiting for him to apear.)

4: Packed everything I could fit from our home into a boat. Lived out of boat for 2 years.

3: Buried a one hundred forty pound sheep dog in the middle of the night so noone would cry.

2: Mastered "the scorpian" pose.

1:Reseached and constructed a bomb. Later disabled bomb when crush bombed.

Admiting I Have a Problem

I drank too much of your face and hair and eyes (YOUR FREAKING EYES!) and now I'm bloated because I drank too much of your lips and neck and little baby shoulder bend and don't forget that sip I took of every nip of skin within a six inch radius of your belly button which was quite refreshing but did not stop me from drinking too much knee and elbow and top of your head and the balls of your feet and your balls and tongue and the three hearty gulps of the palm of your hand that I downed right after I drank too much of your cheeks and hips and I guzzled your toes and your crow's feet and I swilled too much of your temples and the way you grab my head when you kiss and the five fingertips of your manly left hand plus the chug of your calf and your adams apple, ankle, tricep, eyelash, nipple, backside and right thigh and I also had a very tall glass of that sudden gasp of breath you took when you opened up your eyes and now I have to go and pee or burst.

A Fortnight Of Luvin

My Dearest Readers,

My best intentions are to devote the next fourteen amour filled days with joy and happiness for your reading pleasure. In stead of twelve days of Christmas, you will recieve fourteen days of my warmest regards.
It will be most helpful if you are nakid, a little drunk, and well oiled up, when I return.
All my love,
Munkay

Slave to My Desire

You wake up, head still fuzzy from the previous nights migraine medication and the first complete thought to fill your weary mind is how very much you want some true soul food. You Google your northern state to find the closest joint. It is in the city, past all the construction and broken bridges down town. When you call all your friends and attempt t0 bully/beg them to come with you they will decline your threats/kind offer.
One hour later, you have drug your teenage son and his buddy, sand eyed from their sleep over out of your basement and locked them securely in your back seat. You use the map you printed out in your hand as a visor (the bright sun still hurts your sensitive eyes).
Eli empresses you by knowing every word to "Walk This Way", but when he manages to hit the high scream notes, your bruised brain winces and you turn onto a one way street. This normally would be of little consequences to you but you are now in the heart of the bad part of town, the same reason why a lot of your friends would not accompany you on this missive, and there is a happening over at the venue nearby. You save your self and the still singing kids in the back from a fatal head on crash by maneuvering through a series of parking lots until you realize how horribly lost you have become.
Twenty minutes later, you are back on the right street and bonus, you find a parking spot. You spring from your car chanting "Chicken and Waffles, Chicken and Waffles" loudly to ward off any of the shabby looking miscreants nearby.
The boys and yourself stand there looking up at the empty building that held the gastronomic delights you so craved and scream in earnest, head be damned.
When the waitress at Bakers Square, Heather, who is studying genetic engineering at the collage near by forgets to put in your order for chicken fingers you start to cry. Your son will push his waffle in front of you in the attempt to stifle the unfounded emotional outburst you are having and you will proceed to nam down his syrup coated butter drenched treat while dreaming of hoppin John and greens. When you look up you see the physician who performed your pancreatic transplant enter the eatery, you react by knocking the gooey mess into your lap in your vain attempt not to be noticed.
You stop at the grocery store and pick the ingredients for curry on the way home and remember how much you hate the south.

Possability Boy

Everyone thinks Possibility Boy is possibly a genius. Any day now, they continually agree, possibility boy will make it big. Become a star. "You won't forget use when you are famous, will you?" they ask as possibility boy begins yet another amazing project.
The only one who does not believe in Possibility Boys possible genius is Possibility Boy himself. He thinks they are being too kind. He really isn't gifted at all. He is a fake genius, bluffing his way threw life. He is convinced once he tries to achieve his full potential, he will fail, fall flat on his face, and the people who once admired him from afar, will admire him no more. And so Possibility Boy never really achieves anything. He just sits on the edge of his possible glory and basks in the adulation of his potential.

A Third of a Life Sentince.

His parole hearing was yesterday. The brown eyed inmate was handed down a year and a year. That means he has one more year behind bars here and then a year on the other side of the fence-minimum security . I released him from his job running my warehouse and the only chance he will have to try to talk to me will be during meal time . He is in for murdering his last woman.
I should have written an incident report on him right away, before his hearing, but I was too embarrassed.
Now I am scared.