So He Said

"I just love ham", he said slicing meat for pizza, " what animal does it come from?"
The school girl training the new tosser could not wait to start collage and stupefy.

So He Said

"You are not a monster, I am the monster", he said.
And then the girl danced for the Boogie man and he was swayed.

So He Said

" I brought a couple boxes of wine, a bag of Alpo and something for the dogs", he said with jubilance.
The girl ditched her inhibitions and crawled into the yurt with December legs acting like July.

So He Said

"How did you brake your collar bone", he said staring at her fragmented x-ray.
She did not want to tell him she fell off her chair at the dinning room table while eating dinner on New Years Eve so she answered,"Partying", in what she hoped a tuff voice- "I was told", while praying he would not question her cat.

So He Said

"So you never raise your middle finger to anyone", he said to his little sister, "because it means....eagle."
When the four year old found out the real meaning, she flicked him off constantly for not telling her the whole truth.

So He Said

"Am I going to have to love it like it's my own?" he said to the girl frantically waving the strip of paper she had just peed on.
Expecting anything but that she did not know what to do with her face.

So He Said

" I do not know what I would do with out you ", he said in an earnest voice directly in her ear.
But he never said " I love you" to her heart so she thought she would let him try.

So He Said

"Keep your hands off my plate and just eat your own food," he said through clenched teeth to the girl in the upscale restaurant when the CEO stepped away.
"I couldn't eat my lunch today ", she said as she handed her Styrofoam container to the pair of bums sharing a pack of frozen hot dogs on the out side bench she had watched trying to defrost their weenie's for the past hour.

So He Said

"We'll have a great time in Vegas", he said as he stirred a circle of cream into the coffee she just served him and blew a smoke ring from the corner of his sensual mouth.
"No", she said as she stared at his large nimble fingers cupping the mug where his wedding band should have been.

So He Said

"Is there such a think as a good zombie?" he said in a flat voice his hands never leaving the controller and his eyes glued to the screen.
"Anything that eats your brain..." she tried to answer as she waited for the paint stripper to um ...

So He Said

"Just mail me my damn 'permit to purchase a hand gun' woman!", he said with a mouth full of anger.
"Send me my damn divorce papers and you will get your permit", she screeched in her inbread trailer voice.

So He Said

"If you buy a membership in the museum, you get ten percent off the picture you just purchased," he said, "that's alot."
"Not alot", said the number dyslexic girl who could not see the difference between the $120. charge she thought she made with $1,200. marriage breaker she just saddled herself with.

So He Said

"Some words are really hard to spell..", he said as she nodded prematurely in agreement, "..out in feces when you are trying to make a statement.
So began her shit thesaurus composition.

So He Said

"I love the smell of garbage in the morning", he said as he pushed the heavy reeking janitor cart full of rotting leftovers and scraps out the loading dock to the dumpster, "it smells like...victory."
He told the girl he layed in his bunk mornings waiting for the 4 am switch out so he could come into work just to get out of his cell.

So He Said

"Using outsourced material will double our product production and turn costs around for the company", he said using his power point technology.
She swiveled 360 degrees in her office chair and laughed.

So He Said

"Taboo, we are soo TABOO!" he erupted gleefully a glean in his eye and his silk tie loosen, thrown back behind his damp neck.
"No, we are not tabbouleh until we stir in the turmeric", she told him not so excited.

So He Said

"A big girl like you with arms like that could play the trombone", he said after crushing her heart.
She tried to be a trombonist but the girl yearned to drum and they didn't need another so she quite and just took to trashing hotel rooms without a band.

So He Said

"Mrs. Ravendalhen said you have to be my friend", he said to the shy girl on his first day of the second grade.
He repeated it in the third grade to get her to pass notes, then the fourth grade when he needed a science partner and the sixth grade when he wanted her to hang out at the snow carnival, and in the eighth grade when he got Debbie Newgate the sophomore knocked up and was too scared tell anyone but her, and by the time he had the shy girl climbing into his bedroom window to write plays instead of cleaning the Lutheran church across the street in the ninth grade or when in he got Debbie pregnant for the second time in their tenth grade year when she kept his baby or finally when the North Stars dropped him for using drugs, and a few times in between and after.

So He Said

"You will marry me if I get you pregnant", he said in a unmistakeably hopeful voice.
She vowed to her self to break up with the cowboy as soon as she finished.

So He Said

"All you got to do to look good is follow me around with your clip board and write down what I say so you remember to take care of the issues later", he said.
So she trailed behind him jotting down things like "self important fat ass waists time" and "my ex boss used to spend two hours in the bathroom and another playing fantasy food ball as I took over his job, the twit."

So He Said

"You sure this is what you want", he said in a scared voice.
Her hand on the flashlight shook despite the gin and she had never been less sure of anything but she had already pulled the wool hat over her ears to muffle the sound that would follow her nod.

So He Said

"Bla bla bla", he said in his monotonous voice, his blue eyes extra watery.
Does this man ever shut up, I've got more important things to think about like sleeping bags, duck eggs, and Windigo's to concentrate on-"OH HEY WHY IS EVERY ONE RUNNING OUT OF HERE IN THE MOST UNORDERLY FASHION?" she thought then yelled.

So He Said

"Do you ever take risks, dive too fast, experience severe mood swings, or have bursts of energy or creativity followed by depression?", he asked rapidly after calling the girl by the wrong name and never looking up from his massively large paper strewn desk directly at her.
She watched the dangerous brightly colored pills swirl around her toilet bowl and pictured herself rearranging all his desk papers to spell out her name correctly before setting it on fire.

So He Said

"You see anything?", he said to the frozen girl as she entered the cabin.
She pictured the large wild canine tracks on the snow covered pond she passed in the daylight on her return and answered, "Let's just keep the little one tending the fire for the rest of the trip."

So He Said

"So my real father is actually a top secret asternaught away all these years working on an exploration study three galaxies from here?" he said with great big eyes widened in question just like his missing dad.
"Four", she said.

So He Said

"Ooh sexy boots, you from around here?", he said as he gazed intensely into her eyes and guiding her genitally down into the buttery soft upholstery.
"Shut up and just do me again", she snapped impatiently brushing the bleach blond bangs from her eyes while making a mental note to switch hair salons.

So He Said

"Is the man of the house there, this is Bob from the NRA, and I understand your husband has donated to us recently..", the telemarketer repeatedly ask her every night about dinner time.
"No", she answered in a tearful sounding voice, "my husband died from a gunshot wound to the head."

So He Said

"I said, "Can you FIT"", he repeated with a look of pure annoyance and frustration on his young face.
She wiped her saliva out of his toy box and promised herself to start taking the time to listen with both ears.

So He Said

"I never eat protein and carbs together at the same time, it screws up your metabolism", said the pompass chubby antique dealer as he helped himself to another of the pulled pork sandwich the girl had brought in for the workers.
"Ok, I'll remember that if I ever wake up fat", she replied flicking her paint brush at his back as he waddled past.

So He Said

"In ah uh cupill minets you won'tt feel a thinngah, sweetie", said the good Dr with a slur.
She gripped the arms of the dentist chair and watched with her peripheral vision the Novocain as it shot through her cheek missing her gum altogether hitting the cheery printed wallpaper and knew she should have just applied a hammer directly to her mouth before arriving.

So He Said

" I never even told any of my girlfriends that I loved them", said the idiot sitting across the restaurant table she had chose for this meaningful day.
She sat staring dumbfounded as he continued to squirm and babble and she wished he would have let her finish her planned breakup sentience.

So He Said

"Hungry Like a Wolf is a real song and not just an Old Spice commercial?", said the kid not believing coolness was as old as his mum.
She showed him the YouTube video, but told him nothing of the small import vehicle or the country she was in for that matter the first time she heard it.

So He Said

"I need to make my appointment for another melanoma peel this month", said the Sargent as he finished off the entire bag of her peanut brittle with a satisfied sigh.
The girl wanted to tell him cancer thrives on sugar, how he should be eating apricot pits instead, but she enjoyed his enjoyment too much and wasn't as good at cracking fruit centers with a hammer as she was at baking.

Deep Pockets Full Heart

Cost of cell phone upgrade for tweenager who has lost/broken phone. $159.00
Cost of comfortable workboot for when tweenager goes back to work. 76.00 (more than any pay check earned so far.)
Cost of sushi for late dinner after long evening shopping. 47.00
Sound of little boy's voice rising about the crowd at check out lane. "Mom? Mom! I've been abandaned. I don't remember where we parked?"
Price less.

Heart Break Food

Recently, while I was hanging outside waiting for a sign with alot of time on my hands I thought about wienies. I do not often think about tubular meat but I had a couple great ones in the middle of the night in Europe during my pre-asternaught days. They are alot of work but worth it, as they will fix anything that ails you. And you can not eat them in space.

Here is how you build them.

REMOULADE
2 c. mayonnaise
1 tbsp. prepared mustard
1 tsp. anchovy paste
1 tbsp. each chopped capers & gherkins
1 Tbs fine chopped onion
2 chopped hard cooked eggs
Salt & white pepper to taste

SHRIMP SALAD

1 can medium sized salad shrimp drained
1/4 cup ketchup
1 rounded teaspoon grated horseradish

Steam or grill an old fashioned foot long hot dog
Grill a piece mixed grain flat bread until warm
Spread a layer of mashed potatoes on warm bread
Lay hot dog on mashed potato cover flat bread vertically
Spoon a line of romaulade sauce along one side of dog
Spoon line of shrimp salad on other side of dog
Roll up in a cone like shape
Top with carmilized onions

Eat with a spork. Buy bigger pants.

*not my picture as I do not pour ketchup on top as you can see

Dear Asternaught Letter

Dear Asternaught,

You can just kiss off now. You are way too cold for me, ice Asternaught. Hope you get the bends upon re-entry if you ever decide to show your oxyigen sucking face on this planet again. Heard the scientists had to weld your helmet on your ugly mug so the black hole they were shooting you towards wouldn't spit you back out. Know what else? Down here your fat. Too bad you are all alone up there, with no gravity to hold your "little shuttle" down for a change. I was just only slumming with you. I really wanted an alien. And I want my solar sytem mobile back, space pig.

Postcards to My Asternaugt

I baked a cake for your coming home party. It is shaped like a rocket and made of butter cream. I'll just continue practicing popping out of it with my big net until you get back. Act surprised.

Post Cards to my Asternaught

So. I suppose you are way to busy at your control panel with your levers and monitors to look out your window. You really should take a peek. See that deer stand with the heart painted on the roof? I built it higher than legal just to be closer to you.

Post Cards to my Asternaught

I tried to you spell you out a love message in a crop pattern. But the growing season here is over. So I used chickens. From my roof they look like the Asian word for goiter hag.

Post Cards to my Asternaught

Do me a favor while your up there? Mess with the planetary alignment's a little. Arrange Aquarius to look like.. oh maybe big a pair of lips. Instead of a silly water bearer. Then maybe you will find me sexy instead of drippy.

Post Cards to My Asternaught

The down side of up is me.
Come home Major Tom.

Post Cards to My Asternaught

All those nights we spend together on my Tempur-Pedic, does it qualify as asternaught training? If so, I'm going to pack every left over Forth of July fire work I can get my hands on under the dust ruffle and meet you around Pluto.

Post Cards to My Asternaught

By the way you never left me your temporary address. I know you asternaughts are shy, and like to be left alone so I am just sending these cards to Santa in hopes he forwards them. I'll just sit here under the mail box with my binoculars and wait.

Postcards to My Asternaught

Do you think of me in hyper space? Or do your weightless memories float away, higher.
Tape a snap shot of me inside your helmet, will ya. Make it sad.

Post Cards to My Asternaught

Can you pick me up a few things on your way back? I want:

Moon Shadow
Cheese
Stardust
Mini Black Hole
A silver cloud lining
Any unanswered wishes I can grant
Alice
One pocket alien who doesn't eat too much
Another pocket alien to keep first happy
You.

Post Cards to My Asternaught

Is it all it cracked up to be up there in space? Peeing in your flight suit, is that hard to do? Was there a simulated astro elimination class at NASA? I have to focus on these things while your gone. Me not being able to wrap my (helmet less) head around rocket science and all. Beats the thought of you breaking down.

Scared Spitless

I am scared of two things:

Snakes and midgets.
Both are low too the ground and creepy. On the one hand I can run away from a snake or just hit them with a stick, or even make a belt out of them but I can't so much with midgets. Although I did push a grocery cart into one of the little devils once, and I did throw up on one another time. I will tell you of it in the future when my stomach calms down from mentioning their concentrated evil.

Postcards to My Asternaught

I will write you soon and tell you the details of all that is happening here. Stuff about the war in Georgia, and the strike in Pakistan. More about the Syrian troops invading Lebanon, what Kelly and Regis dress up this Halloween as, and who spent enough to spin the press and win the election.
Write back soon, ok, and let me know the really important things like is the part in my hair straight and does Tang taste better in space.

Skinning the Cat

Her body tensed before the huge lion pounced on her in the night. She felt the huge cat's breath hot on her face as his sharp vice like teeth punchered her skull. The girl fought the beast with everything she had. With an upwards thrust she mistakenly claimed a short lived victory and she began to skin the wild animal. With her knife under the cat's top lip she saw it's warning snarl too late, and when she woke his incisors were still embedded in her head.
She fumbled for the migraine pills in the dark bathroom with her eyes closed wishing she really was in a jungle anywhere but there.

Road Blocks

Top 10 diversions that keep me from blogging:

10-Surrogate mothering alien baby embryo's.

9- Filling in as body double for Jullianne Hough On "Dancing with the Stars."

8-Spray painting dirty remarks about self and phone number over every campain sign in neighborhood.

7-Waiting hopefully by phone

6-Carrying "Survivor Man's" cameras across the Amazon. ("Les. Les! Wait Les! Play your harmonica for me and I'll give you a Snickers bar! Stop running!)

5- Bulking up for winter on the chocolate cheese cake flavored donut diet.

4-Calling hubby's new job. Tell his hot assistant I am an undefeated extreme fighter with anger issues. Ask her over for dinner. Or throat punching.

3- Write own honest quarterly job evaluation for boss. Show boss and have him sign. Fax the fake glowing review into office instead. Spend undeserved raise at strip club at lunch break.

2-Shop for a lake side cabin on Craigs List. Trade both kids for cozy fixer upper with semi-detached meth lab a short distance from swamp.

1-Shaving head. Gluing fresh cat to scalp daily.

Baby On Baby

People. Babies are killing babies out there. This must stop. I, as a mother will make sure this will happen.
How you ask? How will one woman do this?
This is how. Listen up.
I as a woman will not let a violent flu bring me down, allowing my baby to be stolen by his father into the northern woods without me. Taken to the deep dark woods like savages to stalk deer. Unsuccessfully. Only to be dropped off at home, heart broken without any game.
My baby waved good bye to his departing father, and took up his gun once again. With a vengeance, he pointed his rifle in the direction opposite his fleeing dad.
"BOOM"
The shot knocked me off the sick bed.
I had to help dispose of the babies body. Heavy, heavy body. ("Mom, don't cut the heart mom. Is that the lungs or the liver. Good thing you don't have anything in your stomach 'cuse of your flu ' cuse that is BLARGHHH.")
I lay awake all night wondering how I would turn the body over to the authorities the next day.
In the darkness we hung the body. In the darkness the next day we cut it down.
A rigamortss stiffened body will not fit in the back of a Jeep.

Mothers. do not let your babies put you through this.
Hunt with your children. Coach them to wait for horns. Teach yourself how to use a pulley. Have readily available muscle mass. And a truck.







*Father did not truly abanden us. Just drove off to work out of town. (YEAH! Out of town!)

Middleage Adolescence

One the rainy afternoon she thought of him. She often thinks of him. Too often. Then she typed his familiar name into her search engine. He came up in New York. He was always the city boy, even when the city was a town of two hundred.
She held her breath and dialed his number, not know what she would say, her heart pounding in her thought.
He answered on the second ring. "Hullo?"
He wasn't ever home on a Sunday afternoon. Never. He was out racing fast bikes, knocking up cheerleaders, out running the cops.
She expected his answering machine to tell her this.
So she gasp and hung up the phone like a giddy adolescent.
And worried after all these years he would know it was her. It was always her.
She knows she should write her story. But that part of him belongs to her. And she noes not want to share.

Instutional Clasifieds

POET FOR HIRE:

here is a sample of my work

monster

they say i am a monster
they say i am no good
they say one day the monster
in me will return
i say grrrr

one poem five spot or a back rub

jingles K4 second floor third door

Institutional Classifieds

For Barter:

Surplus ammo (any size) for home cooked dinner. Call between 2pm and 7pm so as not to wake mother.

CO Barril Kitchen

Institutional Classifieds

WANTED:

Date. And not the Ramadan kind. I have my prom gown and am ready to go. You bring the raisin jack and memories will be made.

Chris S.O. unit cell 917

P.S. If you tell the seg unit I still have the suicide watch style, I'll cut ya.

Instutional Classifieds

FOR SALE:

Ramadon Dates. Bi mi dam dates nigga. Days be putn m in mi Ramadon bag nasty and senting to my cell a nigh. Use them as a stone, tey pitted.

Azizah da Bizzah K3 South lower level cell 428

Insitutional Classifieds

FOR SALE:

Junk Cheese. Smuggled straight out of kitchen in between two pairs of under ware for your dining pleasure. Buying 4 slices qualifies you to 10 minutes uninterrupted time with the unit iron for your grilling needs.

DogBone K4 West Cell 806

*cheese does not contain real dairy. ingredients include, oil, glow in the dark orange food dye, and funk

10 Every Day

Ten Things I do Every Day:

1 Curse loudly at alarm.

2 Offer a sacrifice to my "Rock" altar.

3 Run two laps before my coffee (around my counter island).

4 Circle the parking lot until I find my bosses car. Park at diagonal to block slacker in.

5 Slap out of order sign on coffee vending machine. Sell home brew for 2 bucks a pop.

6 Phone home. Request whatever is not in fridge for dinner.

7 Moisturize hands with lotion. Rub greasy paws on Captains window in an pressed ham shape.

8 Bring home picture of inmate. Tell kids inmate is new dad.

9 Complain about smaller size ice cream containers. Eat twice as much.

10 Hold deep meaningful conversations with feral cays while distributing kibble. Answer self in Sylvester voice.

11 Bongo a chorus of "Tusk" on hubby's belly.

12 Practice counting.

464-7788- Get it Right

“Conscience, my old chum, my bosom buddy, my pal, my confidant, my … so how the devil are you? And more to the point, where in the name of all that’s holy have you been, eh? Eh? Eh? I have been doing some frankly sickeningly depraved and despicable things, many of which would make your eyes water, and have I heard from you? Well, have I? Not a word, or a peep for that matter. You never write, you never call, you never email. I even tried looking you up on Facebook. But nothing. It's like you fell off the face of my earth. So I sat here - sat, lay, suspended myself upside down, and many other positions besides - indulging in pleasures of the flesh whilst ingesting a cornucopia of toxins no one in the moral majority would approve. The kind of behaviour that would not only make my poor mothers hair curl, but would undoubtedly cause it to fall out, and yet you remained silent. Unusually mute, by your standards. No murmured whispers of sanity, reason and righteousness to set me back on the straight and narrow - don’t interrupt, I said - so it’s hardly surprising that I now find myself infected with all manner of … Michele? There's no Michele here. My name is Munkay and you must have the wrong number."

Who Ya Gonna Run Tell On Now?

Pig said she needed "spanking"
Insubordinate jerk hung self
firing process has begun

A Slip of the Lip

Back-pain is fine.

Everybody gets back-pain. Athletes get back-pain. Joggers.

Back-pain doesn’t label you, it’s just a fact of life.

Hip pain is a whole different kettle of pinchy craw fish though. Hip pain is a real milestone in the decrepitude stakes. That’s one you won’t quickly admit to colleagues or friends.

I have a pain in my hip.

No. Sorry. Can’t see that happening. I’d rather say I have leperacy or warts.

Hip pain. If I told my children I had a sore hip, that would be the start of a very rapid decline for me. Even their language would change, subtly. You see, up to now, if I happen to trip over something while dragging great pieces of furnature around the house or pushing the Harley out of the barn, or wrasseling a crocodile, one of my kids might just mention it to the other:

Mom biffed.

Did she? Is she all right?

Yeah. She just fell over something.

But if they knew I had a stiff hip, they wouldn’t say that. Instead it would be Mom had a fall.

Oh.

And they’d frown at each other. A fall, eh?

Yeah. She had a fall.

It won’t end there. As time progresses, the language will turn even darker and the frowns will become furrows.

Mom had one of her falls.

Really? One of her falls? Maybe we should consider …

Nah. She’ll be fine.

Even that won’t be the worst. After a couple more years will come the absolute pits:

Mom had another fall last night.

Another one! Shit, we’ll have to …

Yeah. I think we will …

I’m keeping quiet about this hip. It’s probably just a strain.

Munkay's Pussy Ranch

I ain't no stinking feline damn it- don't believe what they are telling you. I just got this this bad kibble habit...

Munkay's Pussy Ranch

Double your pleasure! Double your fun! We are Kit-Kat and know how to make you purrr.

Munkay's Pussy Ranch

Don't yo start no treble wit none of mai girls, or Mama will cut yo up gud. I sitz her on dis porch, I'z do, an I watch mai babies see. Yuz treatz them reaal niz an I no bite offen yo earz.

Munkay's Pussy Ranch

I'm Madam Tippy and I run this ranch. I am a boluptuous cat of huge appetites. I used to be a dude, but now, thanks to that cut happy vet I swing both ways to make you happy honey. Come see me if you want your melons rolled.

Munkay's Pussy Ranch

Mello, my name is Mew Mew and I am a very loving and docile kitten. I will do anything or be anything you want me to be. Strange is my specialty. You want me to be an egg, I'll be an egg. Flexable is my middle name.

180

I have worked here for an entire year now.
This might be my next venture if I can scrape up the cash and energy.

The End of the World As I Knew It

6:30am Information super-highway stops working. Rolling of eyes and general grumbling ensues amongst co-workers.

6:40am Realisation that this might be a Serious Problem sets in. Angry phone calls are made to network provider by squad, because being rude and sarcastic always encourages people to try extra hard to help solve your problem quickly.

7:03am All work that can possibly be achieved without access to the internet is now complete, but Managing Director declares that lack of internet access is not a good enough excuse to knock off for the day.

7:26am Co-workers begin aimlessly wandering the office corridors, like ghosts trapped between worlds.

7:47am "I've got the internet" shouts an excited co-worker "oh, no, it's just a hallucination. Damn, I think I'm losing it..."

8:07am Walk new hire list over to Margaret instead of e-mailing. Stop and rest at halfway point, 20 feet. Interduce self to Margaret when finally there.

8:15am "You should just be able to phone the internet or something when this kind of thing happens" speculates staff. I consider dialling IT but the number is on computer. Sit and stare at phone. Then computer. Then phone..

9:00am Nobody cares that it's coffee time, they've already eaten everything they could find in the office out of boredom.

10:15am Co-workers construct an effigy of the internet out of stuff they find in the stationary cupboard, and begin dancing around it in their underwear.

10:20am Network engineer arrives to investigate problem. The Effigy is declared to be our new god.

11:00am Network engineer announces that he cannot fix the problem, and we need to get the main office to look at our line. He is promptly sacrificed to the Effigy. Co-workers examine his entrails to foretell when the downtime will end.

11:13am Co-workers begin arguing over what to do. One faction believes the engineer was a holy prophet and we have angered the Effigy by murdering its messenger, while others believe the Effigy demands more blood before the curse can be lifted.

12:14pm Interdepartmental guerrilla warfare breaks out.

12:34pm Faction 2 is victorious. Surviving members of Faction 1 are taken prisoner and sacrificed to the Effigy - they are disemboweled with the plastic forks left over from when we had a cake for Joan's birthday the other week.

12:55pm We go to Starbucks to get more cake.

1:15pm A new Dark Age begins, co-workers construct a rudimentary settlement around the Effigy.

2:00pm Co-workers gather around a campfire made from our useless computers and listen to tales of a time before time, when words and pictures would fly through the air and appear on a magical window before your very eyes, like dreams.

2:47pm Legend tells of the mythical "Book of Faces" which can destroy time itself - a crusade into the holy land (accounts on the second floor) begins in order to seek out the book.

3:30pm Slink out of office beaten too depressed to do anything but go home and blog.

Worlds Worse Sami

The World’s Worst Sami was sitting in my living-room, sipping from a mug of cocoa clasped between his trembling, frozen hands. The chattering of his teeth quite drowned out the reassuringly dull drone of the passing traffic, as it headed for the neon bright lights and a frenzied bout of last gasp festive indulgence at the mall to the east.

“I’m s-s-s-still c-c-c-cold,” he murmured, sticking out his bottom lip in a most disgruntled pout. This had been his mantra since he arrived at my front door earlier in the evening. The knocking had been tired and quiet - barely there, yet nonetheless insistent. I hollered to the unexpected caller to let them know that I was on my way, but the tapping continued unabated: the sound of an exhausted, demented woodpecker determined to make a breakthrough by sunset. It was only when I finally opened the door and found his right hand held in mid-air, still shuddering against nothingness, that I realised quite how violently he was shivering.

I offered to take his coat as I ushered us both into the dimly lit, artificially heated warmth, but he refused, instead pulling the heavy parka even more tightly around him and yanking its hood forward so that his elfish face gazed out at me, wide-eyed and enquiring, from inside a thick, fur-lined tunnel.

“Are you kidding? I only got this just now, and I’m not taking it off until the temperature is back to something at least vaguely liveable.”

I was curious, even puzzled. I may have only studied Sami in the pages of simplistic, brightly coloured picture books at primary school level, but even that cursory knowledge taught me that their coats are of the utmost importance to them - the mix of reindeer fur and sheep skin offering these hardy souls some badly needed protection from the harsh winds and bitter chill of their natural environment. Seemingly not.

“I don’t believe in cruelty to animals. Plus, those traditional Sami garments are so bulky, and can have such a lingering odour about them. Frankly, they stink a bit. So I bought this one at the Pancake Hut. It was a bargain in that pit. It’s my first winter coat, too - my dear mother back home will be so proud that I’ve finally seen sense. I was downright freezing before that, running around in t-shirt and jeans at minus thirty degrees. I had goose bumps in places you don’t even want to know about.”

I showed him into the living-room and expected him to take a place on the sofa. But no, he seized one of the cushions and hurriedly dragged it over to the radiator, squeezing it round the top of the cast iron frame, whereupon he hoisted himself up on to the hastily built seat. Closing his eyes, he sat absolutely still for a moment - as if feeling the welcome heat surging through his body - before sighing, almost contentedly. Almost.


“Getting better. Could be better still. I can’t feel my fingers yet. Or my toes. Or the end of my nose. It turned blue earlier. My nose turned blue! How you people manage to cope in such weather is beyond me, really it is. Now, can I have something to eat, please?”

Delving once again into my limited classroom/internet learning, I informed my visitor that the contents of my fridge - a word that made him once again visibly shiver - sadly rather lacked much in the way of reindeer meat or freshly-snared snow grouse, though I did have a piece of cloudberry coffee cake that might be to his liking. He sniffed dismissively, turned his nose up at me, and asked for some nachos. With salsa.

I had, up until this point, been very patient and polite, but my bewilderment had at last risen to the surface. I wanted to know just how an Sami could be quite so unused to the arctic winds, the sub-zero temperatures, the ice, frost and snow. How a Sami had never owned a winter coat prior to spotting one going at a substantial discount in a roadside stand. How a Sami preferred chippies to some tasty wild foraged goodness.

“The locals always called me the World’s Worst Sami,” said the World’s Worst Sami, between gobbled mouthfuls of crunchy goo. He dabbed a finger at a tell-tale trail of cilantro that was slipping from the corner of his mouth, before continuing. “But I wasn’t. I really wasn’t. I just enjoyed being different.”

“And now?”

“Now I’ve decided that I’m quite different enough. Different enough from everyone else, anyway. I just want to be warm, thank you very much. Speaking of which - do you have a hot water bottle?”

When I returned from boiling the kettle, I discovered that my arctic visitor had grabbed every spare pillow, duvet, blanket and winter coat he could forage from my cupboards, drawers and wardrobes, using them to construct a makeshift tee pee in the middle of the floor. I allowed myself a brief smile at the thought that even this wilfully different Sami didn’t go against his native tradition in every way.

I turned out the light and closed the living-room door. As I did so, there was an almighty sneeze from inside the heavily cushioned refuge.

“Sutina. I think I’m getting a cold.”

Note to Self

Dear You,


What happened there? Was it the same that happened here? Did you go away? Taken leave of your senses? Have you been on holiday? I have. Months ago, I packed my single shabby suitcase and blew. I shrugged off this incessant whirl of unemployed Utopia and joined the rat race. Have you ever taken a holiday with the rats? You should. It would suit your temperament down to the last gasp. No foreign travel required. Nothing to declare. No passport needed.

The rats and I, we scurried up through the drains and left our droppings in the four corners of your decaying attic space, in the wood and worn sheets that now comprise your fleeting history in dust. I will confess that such activities weren’t entirely pleasant, but it was a relief to be a creature of such disgusting, depraved habit: alive to my true nature, alive to the filth and degradation we could only ever allow ourselves to sink into after dark, long after midnight.

Listen hard. That is the sound of my theeth nashing as you sleep.

Checking the Other Box

"Why do you call that cat Muestilienin, Dad?", I asked him when we took a break from unloading the winters fire wood off the back of the truck. "Muestilienin is Gypsy in Finnish. That cat is always roaming off."
I never met his mother. I learned she was a mother of ten and would bake bread wonderful bread every day to feed her family. I only have seen one faded picture of Anna, sitting in a wheel chair surrounded by all her children. She had beautiful long dark black hair. I always wondered why a Finnish woman would not be blond. I learned later, Anna was a Muestilienin.
When we were in Finland, we some how ended up, more by chance than anything in Inari, at the Sami museum.
While at the museum I saw images of my brother and my sisters.
One Monday at work I filled out a new affirmative action form. When I checked the "other" box under race I could see that picture of Anna smiling more clearly.

*If my links didn't link, here they are:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sami_people
http://boreale.konto.itv.se/webmstr.htm
P.S. Today my boss offered me a raise. Is it because I am minority?

Everyday Love Stories, Baby Daddy

I am head over heels in love with a vibrantly fertile stud named Baby Daddy. Baby Daddy smells of knock off cologne and entitlement and doesn't give a shit about society's opinion of a real man.
My metro Baby Daddy goes to the same beauty parlor as I do and gives a flavorless skinny girl like me advice when I am lucky enough to be in the chair next to his when he gets his fabulous braids. In between calls on his cell to his numours children, (I take care off all my kids. Do you take food stamps?"), their mama's, and his social workers, Baby Daddy is the one to tell me when I'm stylin.
I hopefully programed my digits into his phone when he was being buffed under the name "Hot Booty Biatch". It was the repo man who called me and asked me to settle his bill. I chopped it up with tears.

Everyday Love Stories, Back Pack

I have fallen head over heels in love with a travelling gentleman named Back Pack. He smells of wool and Himalayan goat's milk and is always on the go.
Oh how I long to meet Back Pack for coffee and chat about his extraordinary adventures. I too have been on many a hair raising escapades in the likes of Skime, Hugo and little Mexico and I'm sure we would bond in a heart beat if he would just find time in his busy sheduale for a girl as lonely as I. But every time I ask if he would like to meet on Tuesday, or Wednesday, or Thursday two weeks from now, I don't really mind, he asks me to hold his water bottle for a second and hails yet another taxi away from me.

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.