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Showing posts from 2016

A Lazy Afternoon

Jimmy had a rare day off. Mommy had some shopping to do, so he’s curled up on the couch, taking a nap. Emily bounces in and tucks herself along his tummy, giving him a peck on his cheek. Sleepily, the chubby arm wraps around the thin shoulders.   “Daddy?”   A small stir. “Yes, Sweetie?”    “You love Mommy, don’t you?”   A single eye opens. “She’s my favoritest girl in all the world.”   The little face fell a little.   “I thought I was.”   “She was here first.”    “Oh...”   Brightening up, she chirps.   “She likes what Santa brought, doesn’t she?”   “Yes, Baby, she does.” He grinned and turned over on his back. “She hasn’t taken it off since I gave it to her.”   “Daddy?”   “Yes, Emily.”   “How did you and Mommy meet?”   “She and Grandma moved in the house behind ours when I was ten.”   “Did she like you back then?”   “She thought I had cooties and I thought girls were silly, so we didn’t play together.    The littl

A little later.

"Jimmy, you awake?" He stirred at the soft touch and turned towards his wife. "Am now." "I just want to say I'm sorry for acting like a bitch tonight." A slow smile came across his face. His hand stroked the side of her face. "I think we apologized pretty well a little while ago." He softly kissed her. She smiled, then her face fell in doubt. "Do you still think I'm pretty? I mean, I never lost..." "...the baby weight? Jimmy kissed along her muffin top and across her belly button, then went up to the locket between her breasts. Kissing it deeply, he laid his head over her heart. It was beating fast. "You are more beautiful after Emily. I thank the Lord every day for that child." Kristy giggled. "I wonder if she heard us?" "Probably. She loves 'happily ever after stories', you know." Kristy held his head tight, kissing the bald spot. "Well, she got her

A Necklace (Blogophilia 44.9)

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..Do you hear what I hear?   Kristy turned off the radio. If she heard another carol or hymn, she’d scream. Bah, humbug. Scrooge was right. Happy this and miracle that. It really was just another day to pick your pocket. Looking into the living room, she sighed at the scraggly tree with Emily’s preschool ornaments, Jimmy’s tacky “Redneck Christmas” wreath, and only a couple of wrapped presents. She knew she should be grateful for what she had, but it was too much, the bills, the arguments. Now he’s late from work again. Was he seeing someone else? I wouldn’t be surprised, she thought as she grabbed another beer from the fridge.   “Mommy, why did you turn it off?” The little girl asked, twisting her red curls around her fingers.   Popping the can, she took a long drink sat down at kitchen table. His plate sat unused across from her.   “I don’t know. I’m just tired of Christmas.”   Emily rubbed Kristy’s back and put butterfly kisses in her tousled hair.    “But, w

Email Scams

The script kiddies think we are dumb. The last few days I have had six or seven notices on the main box saying I have a FedEx message. Here is what a leading security company is saying: FedEX And even Federal Express is annoyed:  Phishing This is on top of the normal global disaster, porn and get rich quick schemes. I've been amused at the uptick in crap since the US election.I made mention of it a few days ago. Traffic Scan Why don't you just purchase the damn personal identifying information on the open market? It's cheaper. 

Friday Random

It's been a while since I did a post that was just random thoughts. Over the last few weeks I have been troubled by my parallel thought train. This is my Walter Mitty life where I am someone else. Lately it has been as a down and out sinner. A sex offender that will never be forgiven, waiting for the next unannounced beating, with the promise that I am beyond the grace of God and the only thing I have to look forward to is the eternal flames. When this happens, I can feel my blood pressure rise. Angry only at the these thoughts, I want to lash out. But I know this would only plunge my physical self into this imaginary world. The other night I finally called out to God for the thoughts to go away. It took a while, but they ebbed out to sea. But the mind wasn't silent. The replacement was the face of a girl about four years old. She is crying in anger and frustration and her mother is nearing the end of her rope. I reached out and placed my hand on the tiny back and she crawl

Tides (Blogophilia 43.9)

Tide flows in Surely as it flows out Into the black ocean Heartbeat of the marsh As the sun sets over my shoulder Tent perched on a hammock In the eastern time zone I wonder Can you see without eyes? Can you speak without lies? Another sip of coffee As the firelight dies You thought yourself The big fish in the pond But sharks proved you wrong And I’m Thankfully Alone. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Topic- Colleen Keller Breuning Pic- Gerard Villegas Pic guesses: Splish Splash, Big Fish (in blog), Flipper, Banana Boat, Changes in Latitudes (Changes in Attitudes), Rub a dub dub, Free Willy,

Trip

Rainy night in Bangkok Sharing Cabernet with no one Pictures sliding across the screen Smiling people at Temple gates No reverence No meaning Another bucket list item Done Thinking back on the message You won! The trip of a life time Angkor Wat Intersection of two religions Half way around the world Only to find The same clueless people As everywhere else. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Topic (You Won)- Irene Melgoza Picture- Tyler Myrth Pic Guesses: Top of the World, Foggy Mountain Breakdown, Climb Ev’ry Mountain, Eidelweiss, Ain’t No Mountain (High Enough), Into the Mystic,

Traffic scan

I'm a stats nut, as I mentioned before. I've always found it interesting who finds my little bit of internet heaven. I've welcomed my South Korean readers over the years. Made mention of the Russians, etc. Speaking of which, they seem to be back using a Czech server. Am I an unwitting DDOS bot? Or are they using me to transmit nasty malware to the unsuspecting. I haven't a clue. All I do is post mediocre short stories. Maybe they just like that.

Coffee Shop (Blogophilia 41.9)

"A man who views the world the same at 50 as he did at 20 has wasted 30 years of his life.”    The man pondered the quote over his coffee. So many of his friends had stumbled into this trap and he had spent most of his life trying to get away from it. But not with success. Alternating between spreadsheets and political discussions online, he felt he was at a crossroads. The world looked like it was ready to crash. More than half of his associates online were cheering it as if it were a show that wouldn’t affect them. He knew better.   Waddling up to the counter for a refill, he steps aside for a person of uncertain gender. This was a good example. In the old days, you never saw people that couldn’t make up their mind about it. They either were, or faked being a man or a woman. A certain comfort came from knowing men from women. Now, it seems, people want to play all the roles at the same time. But can’t do that, really. You only can occupy one space physically and me

Giving Thanks (Blogophilia 40.9)

Roof over our head Food on the board On the right side of the ground And breathing   We are blessed.     After he finished the Grace, the couple sat next to each other at the small table. Martha leaned over and kissed him, city lights glistening though the raven curls.    "That was lovely, Jerry"    "Thank you , my Love."   Slicing the breast, he placed one on her plate, followed with the cornbread-apple dressing. Then he served himself. Silently, they ate with their eyes closed. Yves had outdone himself, getting the meal together before he went to Paris to see his family. He might be annoying, but he did know how to manage a house.   Plates cleaned of the last morsels, Martha refilled their glasses. Meditatively, she looked at the wine and softly said.   "It's been quite a year."   "Several years." Came the smiling reply.    "It was nice of Rabbi Kunkel to come down to marry us."   "H

Clean Out

It was another beautiful morning. Yeah, right. Even after all the of coffee, I was annoyed at being up. How did I get talked into it? I let someone else buy the drinks and I needed the bread. It had been a while since I got fired off my last gig and I still needed to make rent. But cleaning out some dead dame's house? It's creepy, you know? What if she...uh...didn't leave? Jerry said it was easy work and in a nice neighborhood and they would be expecting me. It took two more beers before I said yes.I left the bar with a real uneasy feeling. I check the address on my phone. Yeah, nice enough neighborhood.I take my time driving over. I even stopped to have breakfast. I almost bailed drinking my third cup of coffee, but it was a hundred bucks. Dragging myself back out to the truck, I went on. The subdivision was frozen in time. Ticky-tacky starter boxes in various states of disrepair. There was nobody to fix them after the kids went to University, I suppose. The dead lady'

Fiesta (Blogophilia 39.9)

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It wass the best time to be in Santa Fe, not too hot or cold. It had been a beautiful wedding, he had to say. The bride was radiant, the groom nervous and the church charming. The Mariachi Band at the reception had been a nice touch. The sister stealing the disposable cameras meant to supplement the wedding pictures could have been skipped. The-off the-cuff testimonial to the couple had gone better than he expected. And he wasn't even that hungover at 5AM when he started the trip back to Albuquerque to catch the 8:30 plane to go home. At the last minute, a bridesmaid from Los Angeles asked if she could hitch to catch her flight home. Sure, why not. She was kind of cute and it would make the trip little less boring. It didn't work out that way, she slept all the way through the Bernalilo Pass. Oh, well. Traversing the southern end of the Los Cerillos valley wasn’t much. Dry scrub punctuated with windblown cottonwoods posed as shadows along either side. Probably a good thing

Alphabet City (Blogophilia 38.9)

  Alphabet City Alley off Avenue A Taking a break As the El-Train slides toward Harlem Apron is sagging Blouse is dripping Offal stench mixing with cigarettes Whiff of the fish market Clogged sewer in the river Product of the wealth of our labor . Cuts bound for the restaurant , the shops Where patrons take elevators Unknowing of the struggles of the butcher, the waiter. This is life In Alphabet City ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Topic- Christine Wichman Pic- Gerard Villegas Pic Guesses: Alley (in blog), El-Train (in blog), left behind, underground, abandoned, divan, lonely,

Email

Discreet Hookup Search! 18 yr old girls! See my pics! Yeah, right. Plasticized thirty year olds with no original parts. I rather see a normal 40 yr old, slightly saggy woman that just doesn't care. I already have a 50 something one here that does. Just need to go a little younger. 

Board Meeting (Blogophilia 37.9)

In the Board Room of Devil’s Quill Corporation outside Arlington VA, A special Board of Directors meeting has been called. Lucifer J Beezlebub, CEO, resplendent in a new red suit, approaches the podium.   “Good Morning, Ladies and Gentlemen. I’m glad all of you were able to take the time for this meeting on such a short notice. Things are progressing quickly and it is important to bring you up to date on our latest initiative “Nixon Two, Electric Boogaloo.”    As you are aware, I brought Richard on board from Seraph’s Ice Fields because of his unique technical ability in the field of political subterfuge. Well, the sands of time are just about up and I want Richard to detail out where we have been and where we are now.”    Smatters of applause come from around the table as the ashen faced skeletor walks up. Wiping his brow as he adjusts his blue tie, he clears his throat.    “Thank you, Mr. Beezelbub. Nice tie. Thor’s hammer over Prometheus’ fire becomes the suit

Sexy Posts (Blogophilia 36.9)

“I just had the best night of my life! Alert the media! He was loving and caring and I’m still dragging!!”   Yeah, you’ve seen those posts, either on a Tweet. (Or a text where the Butt mis-dialed by one line and your spouse asks “Who is Sheila?” “Girl at work. She told me she had a date.”) People celebrating new found lust. (Can’t call it love yet. That takes more time.) The moans and coos are almost audible. Some of them are explicit enough to make you spit out your morning coffee. You hope they at least got a room.    You are happy for the person, but kind of embarrassed at the same time. You wonder if they are going put up pictures of the event. (Oh, please don’t. I don’t need to see your Kangaroo tied down, Sport.) It is a vicarious thrill in an otherwise boring day.    Of course, there is a bit of jealousy. Why can’t it be you in the fantasy world where dancing on love’s threshing floor has no consequences. To have a moment where nothing matters but your partner t

Harry's Black Rain (Blogophilia 35.9)

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Hey, heidy and howdy. It's your old moldy oldies maven Harry Handy back on the air here at WOFT. Old Farts radio for all you old teenagers. It's a pretty Sunday morning here in radio land, but all of the media keeps talking about this Climate Change stuff. We need to limit plastic! Stop burning fossil fuels! It's all going be black rain because we keep using up the earth. It's funny all these people that keep talking about this look like the hippies were were back in the 1960's. Maybe Jimmy Buffett was right.. If so, then Willie Nelson was on to something, especially if we look at our Presidential choices. Or maybe Johnny Cash Or even Gregg Allman In the end, we will need Jerry Lee Lewis said what's going to happen to us in the end. Not a pretty sight. Makes me glad I am in my Geritol years and may not have to watch it all come down in flames.  But that also means, I won't see it rise again like the Phoenix the Earth truly is. A

Bread (Blogophilia 34.9)

Dancing slowly around the counter Sinatra on the oldies station What music they make. Apron swaying To a Parisian dream. Teaspoon off the rack Spices sprinkled in flour.     Beads as liquid joins.   Dough ball forms slowly.   Familiar thrill begins   Love rises, falls.      Hands quickly knead Searching the dragon’s face When love is not madness, It is not love. Spirit attracted To the scent. To her   She is the bread   Intertwined loaves in the oven Only in the next life, She knows.    Topic- Kim Herndon Pic- Christine Wichman Pic Guesses-Dragon (in blog), Sauron, Godzilla, Long Journey, Middle Earth, Knights of old, Tequila dreams, 4 and 20 years ago,

Monday (Blogophilia 33.9)

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It's not nice to fool mother nature. If you are old like me, you remember the Chiffon margarine commercial. Mother Nature is traipsing through the woods and is approached with a tub of something she thinks is butter. Every time she was sold a bill of goods. The product was supposedly so good it would even fool her. All the commercials ended with her coming unglued at the shattering illusion. She would snap her fingers after saying the above statement, summoning thunder, with elephants or tigers chasing the camera. It was a cute bit. Did everything a good ad should. The catch phrase entered the lexicon, even though the product isn't widely available anymore. But like all marketing and advertising, it was based on a lie: Buy our product and improve your life.  Being lied to is never a fun thing. You expect one thing and get another. It happens constantly. It is why we are so cynical these days. Nothing is as it seems. Photoshopped, autotuned and manipulated,

Opposite Ends (Blobophilia 32.9)

On opposite ends  She  Apple, not pear  He  Sheep, not bull  Wait their fate.   They look  Exchange words  Emotion is contagious  Enchanted They head toward the door  Her car, faster  His gun, bigger Hot night  Shearing each other  They meet. Ram finding  Apples taste sweet  Apple finding  It’s good to be ewe In a pasture Of your own making. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Topic- Dave Coon Pic- Nina Nixon Pic Guesses-Little Princess, Oasis, Mirage, Repose, Alien, Body Snatcher, Desert Dream, Earrings against skin so brown, Peaceful easy feeling.

Harvest Moon (Blogophilia 31.9)

Up is down Right is left In a world apart. Rules for the flock Not the Shepherd Aren’t what Thou art. I was kicking around various story ideas for this week and nothing really fit the topic, Full Moon Madness . I sketched out a Harry Handy bit. It didn’t quite work right. Then I looked at Devil’s Quill and how L.J. Beezelbub bamboozles with rules that apply to most people, but not the elite. No. That one didn’t work either. I even thought about bringing Jeremy from “The Bomb” back, now a homeless wreck on the street.    Still didn’t feel right.    But real life came through in the end. We had fatal encounters where Officer Itchy overrode his discipline with the all too common results. There was the terrorist with only half of Jeremy’s smarts building bombs traceable to his home. The Presidential Election quirks with Mrs. Clinton’s health. Locally, we had a well known writer and TV personality let loose a well deserved, no-holds barred barrage of vitriol agai