Cheese should be service room temperature. I learned that is France. I just took the cheese out of the frig, so I’m sitting on it trying to warm it up with the bun power. See, I am a super hero with super buns.
Archive for the ‘Personal’ Category
That’s Cheesy
Posted in animals, art, comedian, comic, entertainment, fantasy, Fantasy/Scifi, Fiction, flash fiction, food, humor, life, literature, Personal, photography, sarcasm, Uncategorized, writer, Writing, tagged animals on August 29, 2016| 7 Comments »
My Mind’s Eye Needs Glasses
Posted in art, books, comedian, comic, entertainment, fantasy, Fiction, flash fiction, humor, life, literature, Personal, photography, sarcasm, short story, writer, Writing, tagged minds eye on August 25, 2016| 24 Comments »
The following is a series of short random thoughts I had during the day when I should have been doing something productive.
I didn’t stretch my jaw enough before I started talking I think I pulled a muscle. Now I have a headache. Am I the only person alive who has to stretch her jaw muscles to start the day?
I was feeling nostalgic thinking back on my childhood, so I decided to recreate a summer camp memory. I took a shower in cold water pretending I was back in girl scouts … I remembered why I hated girl scouts.
How is it the blinking light on my phone saying I have emails or tweets wakes me up, but I sleep through two alarms? Maybe that’s my super power and I’m now a super hero.
I hate it when I have to go to the doctor for a shot. The shot doesn’t really bother me. It’s my doctor. He has osteoporosis and his nurse has arthritis in her hands. Who do I chose? I wind up flipping a coin,
I Don’t Need You to Scare Me, I Scare Myself
Posted in anxiety, art, books, entertainment, family, fantasy, Fiction, flash fiction, humor, life, literature, Personal, Random, sarcasm, writer, Writing, tagged author, comedian, comedy, family. job, funny, humor, humour, job, laugh, life, writer, writing on August 23, 2016| 30 Comments »
I’ve been a bit under the weather. The doctor prescribed me a cough medicine with codeine.
Wrapped in a warm blanket snuggle into the depths of the sofa, the darkness had settled and with it a drowsy drugged feeling. I hadn’t coughed in almost an hour.
The light from the television pushing just enough light into the room to make out the patches on Grandma’s old quilt.
Soft elevator music played in the background while a man in the lobby of a large office building buffed the floor. A comforting fog moved into my mind.
What was the name of this movie? My mind drifted like a cloud.
A deafening crash echoed through the room as a body slams on top of a truck on the screen in front of me.
My chest was heaving my body tense, I was hardly able to process what just happened. I looked around at the people watching TV with me. They were staring at me with open mouthed amazement.
“Did I scream out loud?”
“Yeah,” my roomie replied.
I screamed like I have never screamed before. Hollywood pays people for this kind of high pitched, gut wrenching scream of terror. I tell you this so that you may learn a lesson from it. If you are taking cough medicine with codeine, do not watch a movie called Devil. I had to pray myself to sleep last night.
The Rule of Asses
Posted in art, books, chick lit, comedian, comic, entertainment, family, fantasy, Fiction, flash fiction, humor, life, literature, Personal, photography, Recommendations, sarcasm, shopping, short story, writer, Writing, tagged author, comedian, comic, family, fantasy, Fiction, food, foodie, funny, humor, job, life, paranormal, romance, work, writer, writing on August 22, 2016| 56 Comments »
After hours of shopping, I was trying on slacks in a brightly lit dressing room. Finally, I found a pair that fit perfectly. Tight enough in the right places and loose in others.
When I stepped out of the dressing room to show my friend, she said, “You have the ass that could rule the world.”
Maybe I could rule the world. I seriously considered her statement before realizing there are already enough asses ruling out there now.
Things My Boss Says
Posted in animals, art, books, chick lit, comedian, dating, entertainment, family, fantasy, Fiction, flash fiction, humor, life, literature, Personal, photography, sarcasm, short story, writer, Writing, tagged job on August 20, 2016| 34 Comments »
My Boss has been curious about Twitter. His daughter has an account and he wanted to check out what she might be up to. So he created an account.
The next day he came to me and said, “I’m not sure how, but my daughter figured out I was following her.”
I asked, “What’s your user ID?”
He said, “His first and last name.”
“I think that might be the issue.”
____________________________________________
He sent me a text that said “What’s your phone number?”
I sent back, “I think you just texted it.”
____________________________________________
My boss has the same first name as someone else I know. I was going to be working late so I wrote the following email.
“Dear Tom,
I’m working late tonight. I’ll have to cancel dinner.
Love you, DD”
I accidentally sent the email to my boss, who wrote back –
“We need to finish all the test cases tonight. I’m going to pick up some pizzas.
Tom, your boss not the other one.
P.S. I love you too.”
I love my boss. He understands me better than most, nobody’s perfect.
My Office Toilet
Posted in art, books, comedian, comic, entertainment, fantasy, Fiction, flash fiction, humor, life, literature, mental health, Personal, photography, Random, sarcasm, shopping, short story, writer, Writing, tagged work on August 18, 2016| 45 Comments »
I’m sitting here on my toilet while blogging you. Not on the toilet as in its intended use toilet, but in a I don’t have any funiture kind of way.
You see I got a call on Thursday offering me a job in Portland to start on Monday and I live in Dallas. I wouldn’t be able to fly back and forth every week like I’m use to. I would need to stay in Portland for six months.
It’s a really great job and is something I want on my resume. So I spent about two hours throwing stuff in my car and took off. I drove for thirty hours got a hotel and drove another twelve to get here on Saturday. Sunday I took the first apartment I looked at and here I am sitting on the toilet, using the counter as a desk.
Don’t worry the lid is down. I know that might have been a concern for some.
I ordered some furniture which should have arrived over the weekend, but it didn’t. I got a message at 5:00 a.m. saying it will be arriving this morning. So I’m sitting here on my toilet, waiting for something to sit on.
I’m calling this office in a toilet a concept now. It’s really not so bad in here. The heat lamp is warming the place nicely. The porcelean’s bright and white. I have plenty to drink (from the faucet, not like a dog from the toilet). My shampoo and conditioner smells nice. It has pretty good accoustics thanks to the shower. I think I’m going to create a powerpoint and write a book. My new title, The Office Toilet Consultant.
Oh, thank God, the sofa’s here.
Camouflage
Posted in animals, art, comic, entertainment, family, humor, life, love, mother's day, mothers day, Personal, photography, Uncategorized, writer, Writing, tagged animals on August 17, 2016| 7 Comments »
Installment 42: Meet Me By the Gate
Posted in anxiety, art, books, entertainment, family, Fiction, life, love, Personal, short story, sister, Writing, tagged Meet me by the Gate on August 16, 2016| 19 Comments »
Excerpt from Meet Me By The Gate:
July 7
Item # 30 – Painting of Mom and Dad
Allie,
I’ve painted a portrait of Mom and Dad. I want you to have it. Perhaps if you can hang where you can see it every day you’ll never find yourself unable to remember what they looked like.
Love,
Jo
***
I woke up last night, crying. I dreamt I was in heaven. It was bright and shiny. Everyone was happy, just as you’d expect. But I was surrounded by strangers, alone. I couldn’t find my parents. It’s been over twenty years since I last saw them, spoke to them, hugged them, since I became no one’s daughter. I wondered through the crowd, looking in every face. But I couldn’t remember what they looked like. I couldn’t find them. I woke up sobbing.
What kind of person can’t remember their parents’ faces? The people who spent most of their lives taking care of me and I can’t remember them.
I lay in the dark, trying to remember. Dad had dark wavy hair, a large nose I think, but I could only see bits and pieces, like a puzzle you’ve lost most of the pieces to. I tried to concentrate on his face, but it’s just a vague blur.
REMEMBER HIM, concentrate. Remember his face the last time you saw him, at his funeral.
Brown suit, one button, small lapel, white shirt, but I can’t get above his collar. Just when his face starts to become clear, it slips away again. I can’t see him. Why didn’t I commit him to memory? Surely I realized it was the last time I’d see him.
What about Mom? The last time I saw her, she was sick in bed with cancer. I didn’t want to remember her like that. I thought of the picture I have of her, with that red hair and green eyes, surely I can remember. I concentrate on the picture – blue background, white blouse, red hair waving done over her shoulders. I could almost see her face. Her eyes, I couldn’t get hold of her eyes. I had her nose and the shape of her face, but it was just individual pieces. I couldn’t assemble them. I couldn’t see her.
How will I find my parents in heaven when I can’t remember them? Will they remember me? How long before my son forgets me? I’m afraid I won’t find my parents in heaven. I’m afraid in the dark. I am afraid.
Stop Thinking so Hard
Posted in animals, anxiety, art, books, comedian, comic, entertainment, family, fantasy, Fantasy/Scifi, Fiction, flash fiction, humor, life, literature, My Writing Updates, Personal, photography, Random, Recommendations, sarcasm, short story, Uncategorized, writer, Writing, tagged author, comedian, comedy, comic, family, funny, humor, job, laugh, life, work, writer, writing on August 15, 2016| 28 Comments »
Jim was a nuclear physicist, a brilliant man. Much to his own detriment, he didn’t know when to stop thinking.
He had been through a series of interviews. The job was basically his. All he had to do was pass a drug screening. I don’t know if they said drug test or not. I’m assuming not, they must have been vague.
The company had an on-site clinic where the test was performed.
So, Jim comes toddling in. The tech hands him a cup and tells him to return the sample to her desk.
Does Jim think “They want to see if I use drugs.”?
No.
He thinks “It’s a nuclear facility. They want to take a baseline reading now so they can measure the affects of potential radiation exposure over time.”
So instead of urine, he gives them a sperm sample. He is still trying to figure out why he didn’t get the job.
Can you imagine the technician’s reaction when a cup of sperm lands on her desk?
If Your Dad Was In a Porn
Posted in animals, art, books, comedian, comic, entertainment, family, fantasy, Fiction, flash fiction, humor, life, literature, mental health, Personal, photography, sarcasm, short story, writer, Writing, tagged family on August 11, 2016| 42 Comments »
Do you ever have thoughts that you wish you didn’t have? Like maybe this one.
In my imagination, I’m hanging out with a couple of friends. We’ve been drinking wine, laughing, and listening to music.
When someone says, “I found this old porn in my Mom’s closet. It’s so bad, it’s hysterical.”
She puts it on. The hair is plastered with hair spray and way too tall. You all laugh.
A guys come on screen and someone says, “Hey he’s not bad looking.”
“Yeah,” you agree, “he actually pretty hot.”
Another friend with a fist full of popcorn says, “That looks like your Dad.”
“No,” you insist shocked and a bit disgusted, “that guy is hot. I’d go out with him. He doesn’t look anything like my Dad.”
One of your other friends chimes in, “He really does look like your Dad around the eyes and that nose.”
Then he does something so quintessentially “your” Dad and you know that IS your Dad. You’re watching a porn starring your Dad.
The screams of horror are echoing through my head as I type.
So you’re pissed because you have to live with that image for the rest of your life and you want to confront your Dad, but you’re not sure how that’s going to work.
You start the conversation with something like, “What the H-E- double toothpicks is wrong with you? A porn?”
“You’ve been watching porn,” your Dad counters.
“You were in it.”
Your Mom interrupts, “Do not yell at your Father.”
“Mom, did you know Dad was in a porn?”
And she replies, “Well yes, dear that’s how we met.”
And that’s why I try not to think.
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