A.G.E's Joint

 Let's talk numbers. In a normal month, I usually average 400 reads a month, which isn't too bad for this antiquated format. I have a few really popular posts, but the average new post gets about 20 reads in the first week. Since I never have monetized either this blog or the WordPress model, the fact I am not one of the cool kids really doesn't bother me.  But the last few months have been crazy. A bunch of nosy neighbors from Poland and Singapore have been passing my URL around. You have to wonder why? I'm a third tier writer who only does this for fun. I'm not writing political screeds condemning the current situation or steamy sex romps where everyone looks like Barbie, Ken, and GI Joe. I just write what it is on my mind. It might be where I sample durian fruit or fried alligator tail. Or describing my house after a power outage where I have to maneuver by candlelight. Whatever, it seems to be working. I hope they keep coming back. 

 Kathy and Emily are cleaning up the kitchen after supper.  "Mommy?"  "Yes, Sweetie." Kathy was struggling with some burnt-on grease on a fry pan. "Why do you call Daddy 'Cowboy'? Kathy stopped washing the dishes and looked out at her husband and son playing in the backyard. Little Charlie was riding circles around his Dad on a stick horse while he tried to reach the bridle. The memory made her smile. "It was a pet name I came up with when we first started dating." Kathy handed her daughter a dish to dry. "Like, 'Whoa, Cowboy' when he got too mushy? Emily smirked. Kathy laughed and splashed her daughter. She was too smart for her own good. "Yes. That IS where it came from."  "Thought so." Putting the dried dish on the counter. "How did it happen?" "We were sitting at the picnic table in Grandma's backyard." Kathy looked wistful as she thought back. "It was the week after his 14th  b...

 As of today, I have 80,000 views. Cool

Lucious Beezlebub and Marty Mammon are having an impromptu status meeting in the Executive Conference Room at Devil’s Quill Communications. Arlington VA “Marty?” “Yes, Mr. Beezlebub?” “I was looking at the latest reports from the ‘Lucky 13’ plague deployment…” “They call it Covid topside.”  “Yes, Covid... it looks like the script has called up some older pain routines from times gone by.” “Yes, sir. But those are features, not bugs. An incognito plant in the Zuckerman organization suggested it for extra confusion and chaos.” “Doesn’t he know those programs result in prayers and petitions to Maker?” “Frankly, most mortals I’ve run into don’t care. It’s like they don’t believe either of us exists.” “What about Zuckerberg himself? Does he believe? “Our source says he hedges his bets like a good demon.” “Good. That’s what I like to hear. Now, what about this Frump fellow?” “That’s Trump, Sir.” “Whatever. Was that Nixon’s idea?” “Yes, Sir. He was chosen because he is an incompetent fo...

She teases her tresses As her lover undresses Ruby lotus waits Opening to the sunlight Under the bright cerulean sky ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Topic-Christine Wichman Pic-Colleen Keller Bruenig Pic guesses: Blossom, budding, life, spring, cherry, flower,   

The diner could have been anywhere. This one was found while driving around East Jesus, New York. At least that's what this town seemed like to her. Thirty miles to go on the road trip from Hell. Traffic had been light on the overnight run.  Hot coffee wouldn’t hurt. Crossing the border during the busy part of the day was her plan, the guards wouldn’t ask questions. Debbie stumbled out of the car, dragging food wrappers along the way. The place was like the scarier areas in the desert, except colder. The parking lot was almost empty. A puddle reflected the snow-laden sky and the motel vacancy sign. Shivering, she pulled her jacket tighter and stepped in the door. Pink and white decorations dotted the counters, the remains of a Valentine party the night before. An ancient Wurlitzer  jukebox played caterwauling country tunes. Bacon, and the promise of more, tickled her nose. A big-haired waitress chewing gum nodded toward a line of stools against the front window. She went t...

Emily noticed the house was empty when they came in from the yard. Pulling a twig out her ponytail, she asked "Where's Grandma?" "She took Charlie to the store with her so we could work." "Oh, OK." They were sweaty, dirty, and deliriously happy after their morning work. Kathy was proud of her yard and looked forward to each spring. When she was a little girl, she followed her Mom around to the nurseries. The acrid smell of fertilizer thrilled her. Putting her apron of cuttings on the table, she admired them. Everything was blooming early this year. She had expected it, though. The winter had been warm and wet. Emily circled behind her and squealed in delight. "Momma! They're so pretty." "Yes, Emmy, they are." Her eyes scrunched as she kissed the dirty forehead. It smelled like manure. Her mom had said you can't have pretty without some ugly and bad smells turn sweet. She couldn't disagree, but this child...

It was hot for early spring. Kathy mopped the sweat off her face with a paper towel as she pushed the broom toward the edge of the carport. Stopping, she rolled her wedding band around her finger to air it out. Why didn't she get a fan out before she started this? The thought irritated her as much as when she found out Jimmy had forgotten the trash again. How could one person be so absentminded? You should be able to remember every week. At least she got it to the street before the truck came. She kept the line of dirt moving. Friday was her normal cleaning day. But it was also his birthday and her Mom was coming. she wanted the house to look extra nice for it. Emily got out of school early and sort of helping, picking up trash in a way only a kid would. Each piece was a new gift. She would turn it from side to side, seeing what it was, then threw it in the can. It was a slow process and there were a couple of times Kathy had to count to herself to keep from yelling. Charlie ...

In the 13th Floor executive conference room in Arlington VA, Richard Nixon and the top operations directors of Devil’s Quill Communications are having their weekly status meeting. It’s been a busy week. Nixon: Hello, Everybody. We got a bunch of stuff to cover today, so settle down. Let’s start with Sandy Wrath. How are the various conflicts going? Wrath: Not bad, really. We have a baker's dozen things going. We’ve been working on that crazy Kim guy hoping he’ll light up that part of the world. He tries, but people keep ignoring him. We did manage to trip off a good battle with the Cow Folks this week. It had been a while since we got that pot boiling. Simple misunderstandings are always the best method in my experience. Marty, were you able to use any of their tramplings? Marty Mammon: A few. The problem with that group is they are mostly Esau’s Children and they can’t agree on anything, including demonic authority. Wrath: “It’s why they can never get their act together to take ...

As the flowered bus rattled down the road, Kari made a vain attempt to tame her curls. The witch image stared back from the mirror. Accurate, not that she advertised it. She rarely went to the Coven or associated with most of them. To the outside world, she was an old hippie selling jewelry at craft shows. Nonetheless, she had spiritual power, the gift of transition and healing. Something she did not take lightly, especially this one. It wasn’t often she serviced herself. ***** She couldn’t remember how old she was when Billy McCormack moved across the street, thirteen or fourteen tops. It had begun innocently enough. He would tease her about her wild hair, calling her Witchy or Hag. She would get mad and tickle him until he begged for mercy. Something about him drew her like a fly to a light. They became inseparable as spring rolled into summer. Holding hands, they walked to the playground to climb the ladders or to the woods to explore. It was a dream. The nightmare came the week b...

The red convertible’s big V-8 roared down the Turnpike. The needle was inching near 100 with the joyous sounds of Beethoven blasting into the darkness. Trashcoast Parkway was fading into the rearview on this starry, starry night. The El Dorado was a congratulation present for me, a land yacht befitting a successful guy. And the polar opposite of the black Benz I’d been riding in. That was important. No more Mickey, the lifelong dream to stick it to the man had borne fruit. I had perfected a scam, selling vulnerable women the latest super anti-aging cream. The website was a fake, though. A perfect clone of the product original where I gathered more information than their Experian account. The individual accounts were useless to my scam. Sure, there were several million dollars over the thousands of accounts that could have easily converted with no trace. That was chump change, though. I stacked a backtrace virus inside the orders. During another scam, I had found a way to skim frac...

White painted sentinel Standing against time and tide Against the storms in my mind. I come seeking guidance 122 steps Rosary recited in time With the march Vertigo comes With the climb At the top I stand and hear my voice cry out A wordless scream at ancient power Until the dolphin breaks the surface Against the sunset Anchor drops in my soul's Safe harbor ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Topic- Dave Coon Pic- Stormy Gail Dormire Pic guesses Sentinel (in blog), Anchor (in blog) Safe Harbor (in blog), White (in blog), Light, Time and Tide (in blog),

It is my birthday month. It’s time to get my license plate renewed. For once, I didn’t wait until the last minute. I got my emissions check, made sure my insurance was up to date, and went down the office. Being early on a Friday, no one was there and it only took about 10 minutes. It wasn’t always this way. Back in 1983, the State of Georgia didn’t do renewals by birthdays. Instead, they were due April 1, even if the day hit on a Saturday like this year. I had bought a car about a month before and because of no insurance, I wasn’t ready to get my plate until the last day. When I get there I found out the place was only open until 1. Pulling into the parking log, I saw the line wrapped around the building. I’d be lucky to get in the door before they closed. I backed my plateless ride into a space locked up. Wishing I could spend my weekend doing something else, I found the end of the line. The motley crew reminded me of the giraffe cage at the zoo. Up close to the building was ...

· Left Center Right Remove click to add a caption Her face was amusing, pale skin with cat whiskers of charcoal drawn across the cheeks. Glancing around, I realized it was Halloween. Was it cute? I guess if she was a kid. It was a definitely awkward look, like that display at Needless Markup. I’ve seen a bunch of those over the years. The mouth was more like a dog than a cat. She'd probably make a good puppy and if I could move, I scratch behind her ears. But who am I to judge? I know all about awkward looks. I'm a mannequin in a men’s clothing display and I’ve sported some. I could see the why she stared. I'm not the normal plastic statue making the cheap stuff look good. I'm orange, some ditz's tangerine dream created after too many tequila sunrises with a pomegranate twist. Or worse, who knows? At least, I'm not the only one. Jimmy and Don stand stoically next to me and don't say anything. I was...