She’s a fearsome broad–
This headache.
Trapped within the narrow
Confines of my skull.
Pounding her knobby fists
Whump! Whump! Whump!
Against my brow
Inside out.
Kicking her gaudy stilettos
Whomp! Whomp! Whomp!
Into my cheekbones
Upside down.
I’ve made an offering
Of peace.
A sacrifice of two orange
Gel-filled caplets slugged back
Shot style.
Hurry, relief.
Little girl, hair a’flying
Barely 9 and a half
Novembers old
Drives like a maniac
On her old Schwinn bike
Singing Taylor Swift
At the top of her lungs.
Pretty girl, smart to boot
18 and a half
Novembers old
Home for a weekend
With a new boyfriend
How long will this one last?
Nobody knows.
Beautiful woman, baby in tow
27 and a half
Novembers old
Thanksgiving with her family
Gathered round the kitchen stove
Remembers the bike
Married the beau.
Autumn’s middle child
Always dares to remind
That little girls grow into women
In just a few Novembers’ time.
This cracked me up. Hope you enjoy, too.
I am so thankful for my loving and generous family, and for my amazing, caring friends. I thank God for my health and for my home and for my jazzy little mini van. For some strange reason, I have been blessed beyond words and I am grateful.
Now, with all that being said, let’s talk about the shit that we’re not going to mention on Thanksgiving.
I think we all know someone whose gonna say something stupid or insulting or hurtful, on this most gluttonous of days. And I guess without pointing fingers, this is my way of giving that certain family member a little heads up…a little nod in the don’t-be-a-jerk-direction. Too bad they don’t actually read my blog, but if they did…well, they probably wouldn’t be talking to me anyway. But don’t let that get in the way of you doing your own nodding. Feel free to hit…
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You said you want to meat me by the stares.
But I don’t no you that weigh or that well.
Don’t weight for me two long
I mite bee lost or confused.
You say yule give me your awl.
Butt I just want your hart, deer
And maybe your sole.
I just don’t want to loose ewe.
Our communication seams fatigued
Wee don’t always reed each other
In a way that nourishes or defends
But I like what I sea when ewe come around.
Beautiful! I reblogged this.
When photographing this Chickadee it felt like looking into a wonderful stained glass window. This Chickadee was in a dark forest of thorny shrubs with just a hint of light shining in through the golden leaves that still remain on the trees behind. As a bonus we were treated to the choir singing away with a chorus of Dee-Dee-Dees from deeper within these bushes.
This might be my favorite one ever!
If the baby was named Ducati he could go by Duke.
Some friends asked me to create a witty drawing for a wedding gift involving couples, motorcycles, and religion. This is what I came up with. (Although their version has the man asking “God” for a sign rather than the “universe”.) If you want comics created for you on a certain topic I can do that. But it will cost you. 🙂
I’m between assignments at my schools. Pretesting has ended and my portion of the intervention won’t begin for another two weeks. My life went from 90 mph to a slow crawl in the span of a weekend.
So now I’m left to ponder all of the little things that have been neglected during these past few fast and furious weeks. Such as, how did that spider manage to spin a web across three-fourths of my living room undetected? And how is it that a tub of yogurt in my fridge soared past it’s expiration date without ever having been opened?
Obviously I’m not a multitasker. Honestly, I’m not even much of a monotasker. Once work picks up again I’ll be focused solely on getting the job done to the exclusion of everything else in my life, but for now I’m a slug.
Peace, People!
From following Facebook I have learned that a good many of my friends suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder, or S.A.D., that melancholy feeling that arrives as the amount of daylight grows shorter and the nights grow longer. Sunlight, it seems, is critical to our well-being and happiness.
But I would like to offer an alternative explanation for the onset of S.A.D.–the end of the Halloween candy. That the two events occur simultaneously cannot be viewed as coincidental. S.A.D. sufferers are grieving. To support my claim I offer the 5 Stages of Candy Withdrawal:
1) Denial.
Once the candy is gone and one has searched every little nook and cranny for one last full-size chocolate bar the mind kicks into denial. “Surely that couldn’t have been the last Snickers!”
2)Anger.
“What in hell were you thinking eating that Three Musketeers? My mom was right, I should never have married you.” Or
“After all I went through to bring you into this world and you didn’t save me even one bar of candy? Ungrateful children!”
3) Bargaining.
After realizing that Anger and Denial are wasted emotions, “I’d give anything for one last KitKat. My firstborn, my Christmas bonus. Anything!”
4) Depression.
“The candy is gone. Oh, what a world, what a cruel, cruel world!”
5) Acceptance will arrive sometime in the spring, just about the time the Easter Bunny plops down some Peeps in the kiddies’ Easter baskets.
In the meantime, accept the S.A.D. for what it is–an absence of chocolate–and indulge! Remember, we are grownups and can have candy any time we please. No tricks or bunnies required.
This guy cracks me up.
Praying for Eyebrowz 