Shear Torture. If hair could talk, mine would be speaking its last rites. An inch off is what I said. Two to three-inches off is what I got. A great bang for the buck. I don’t think so. More like getting banged by a buck, in the monetary sense. The hair-grazing experience began with seven… Continue reading
Date Archives → November 2009
My mutt, Jenny, connoisseur of crap.
Not to be confused with Sado, although her teeth are rather sharp. Things my dog has eaten or has attempted to eat: • 10 Pillows and counting • 2 Meat loafs • A frozen chicken breast • 3 sneakers (each from a different pair) • 1 water shoe • 4 slippers (each from… Continue reading
WTF Friday: Thinking Outside the Boxes
Being boxed in hinders artistic freedom, as well as restroom access. Previously published in The Front Porch Syndicate.Written while still gainfully employed. I work in an office with middle-aged men still capable of slogging around a box or two. That is, if the box is intended for them and contains a pair of shoes or… Continue reading
Ducking from crows, diving for roadkill in my head
Quoth the ravenous rumblings of a carnivore Today’s one of those “what day is this?” days. Clouds outside somehow drift inside and hover overhead no matter where I wander in the house. Though my wandering is restricted by the square-footage within. I suppose I could venture out the door, but then I would succumb to demonic environmental… Continue reading
WTF? It’s a houseplant and a pet, too! But is it housebroken?
Is your houseplant too potted to move? If you’re like me, you want your houseplant to be more than just a decorative accent for your home décor. You want a plant that is a pet, too. You want the Tickle Me Plant that moves when you, yes, tickle it. Does your houseplant just sit in… Continue reading
Economic Downturn onto Shabby Street
Road to nowhere Shabby Street One wrong turn down Shabby Street where driveways crumble on lots condemned. Front doors boarded. No one’s home. That car left long ago. Ten years of stuff packed then hauled. Toys tossed in dumpsters in the back. Families shattered like broken glass. Along the hall, in empty rooms, dust settles between the cracks of… Continue reading
Cook’s Crypt: The cooking will kill you, unless the food gets you first
Food Fright For me, the kitchen is a scary place with sharp, jagged knives, fire-breathing stove top burners, and a refrigerator door that beeps incessantly when open, driving the most rational person insane. Even the sink is a slippery slope with a maniacal soap spout that kills innocent bacteria spores frolicking in an ocean of… Continue reading
WTF Friday: Menopausal Warning Signs
YOU MAY BE MENOPAUSAL IF . . . • your head is so far up your ass you need Google earth to find it • you weep uncontrollably during pharmaceutical commercials at the recitation of possible side effects • a glass of Pinot Noir tastes like fermented cow dung • you regard flowers and other… Continue reading
Off on a Head Trip . . .
Be back in a day or two, as soon as I can find a way through the clouds.
Warning: Monday malaise on toast with baloney – too dark to swallow
Image by labguest via Flickr thought doodling and loop-de-loops slows traffic in my brain. http://www.flickr.com/photos/labguest/ / CC BY-NC-SA 2.0 Something doesn’t pass the smell test. Not in the odor sense but in the seemingly color sharp cinematography of the alleged real world. No popcorn or Junior Mints here. Just the dark schism of elitism and holier than… Continue reading