Tuesday, November 27, 2018

Do not you dare (piecemeal)



What kind of person spends money on a palm tree license plate frame? And how is it that the same person would invest in double exhaust pipes so as to release her frustrations in the form of giant plumes of toxic chemicals onto unsuspecting cars behind her.



I do not believe for one fucking second that the town of Buellton, California is the home of split pea soup.




Sometimes I'm a freak (October)



Five more to best 2012.




I listened I have been sad ever since. 

I am so sad about it I don't really want to eat this homemade chili or wash these dishes or dust the bookshelves, though the bookshelves are covered in dust. I'm clammed up; I'm sad about it; I'm so sad; for too long I have not been as honest of a person as I would have had myself believe, but I know (because I must) that I am/we are capable of atonement. 

It is so cold in this apartment; I am cheap; I do not turn on the baseboards; Wilson sits on the toilet in the steam after my shower trying to get warm. Hanna presses her face into my lap and her chest into my thigh and Wilson moves from the bathroom to the other side of my lap; together we create a warm zone as good as any electrically powered heater. At least until one of us (most likely me) gets up to pee. 


I am now the owner of a gigantic novelty mug with the word "spooky" written across it in multicolored lettering; of course I love it; what should I fill it with red wine or whiskey. 


Because I have witnessed life's grand capacity for detours I do not will not believe that it's too late.