Under Glock and Key

My new living arrangement has enabled me to live out my schizophrenic fantasies in a sane and stable environment. WTF, you ask? Who fantasizes about being schizo? Well, I do…sorta. When you have the opportunity to strip yourself bare of all preconceived notions about your personality, would you jump right into another off-the-rack pantsuit of characterization? I mean, I understand how the sudden chill and awareness that you are exposed at your most nuclear level might frighten one to pop on a designer label made to fit most suburban moms, but is that really fair to your little atoms clamoring about, screaming, “Wait…are you sure yoga pants and Lands End capris are all you want to be???” Read the rest of this entry »


Trespassing Lips

“If I were to be your lover,” she said, gazing up from her resting spot of his criss-crossed legs, “I’d one day become petulant and a bother.”

“Never,” he said. “You’re far too interesting.” Read the rest of this entry »


An Evening of Fashion with Destiny!

When I looked in my closet the other day, I got to thinking about all the fun outfits I have that I don’t have an occasion for which I can wear them in the foreseeable future. In the past, I’d sigh and say to myself, “someday…someday.” Well today was someday and that someday was all in one day. Read the rest of this entry »


If It’s in the Cards

What if the world was one big card game

with souls shuffled around as Kings and Queens reign

and one-eyed Jacks wink their wicked game,

It’s a treasury, this box of 52,

especially when the cards are dealt by the likes of me and you.

Sworn lovers and enemies just the same,

we both fight for and against, vowing

never to reveal the other’s name.


Magic

Mom…what if I had magic when I was a baby and I could turn into any age I wanted. So right when I came out of your belly I decided to be 16. Then I’d be like, ‘Get me out of this criiiiiibbb!”

–Jolie, who still might be saying that when she’s 16.


The Drifters

On the roof it’s peaceful as can be. And there the world below don’t bother me, no, no…


Preschooler Diplomacy

In the War of Words, Jolie’s two year advantage and encyclopedic vocabulary always trump Rhett. Today, however, Rhett won a round in the Battle of Insults based on the best rule for arguments: He who laughs first, wins.
Jolie: Know what? I’m gonna call you a stinker.
Rhett: Well, I gonna call you a butt.
Jolie: Fine. I’m gonna call you a pooper scooper.
Rhett (starting to crack a smile): A pooper scooper???
Jolie (glaring and sounding out the syllables): Yes. A Poo-per. Scoo-per.
Rhett (trying to suppress his giggles): Pooper Scooper. Hahahaha. Fine. I call you a. a. a…. A HOUSE!
Jolie (mouth hung open in bewilderment): A house?
At this point Rhett dissolved into uncontrollable laughter leaving Jolie no choice but to join in.
Absurdity thy name is preschooler. Congressional diplomacy, meet absurdity. Perhaps you two should talk?


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