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Fired Up On Facebook

5 Mar

There can’t possibly be that many problems without solutions. Who has the last copy of Problem Solving for Dummies book? I think we’re gonna need it.

FIRED UP:
I just read this from a mother of a 6-year-old boy.
"I still pray every night for him to be free of Down Syndrome, that is one of my duties as his parent and guardian."
Maybe she should be praying for a more loving, compassionate and accepting heart.

Oz may be a movie, but flying monkeys exist in human form. REALIZE: They lack power, as long as you know they’re just cymbal banging, teeth-grinning creatures, whose only purpose is to make noise.

Photo: Oz may be a movie, but flying monkeys exist in human form. REALIZE: They lack power, as long as you know they're just cymbal banging, teeth-grinning creatures, whose only purpose is to make noise.

Waiting for a sign is just a different way of saying: "I’m too scared to make the decision I know I need to, so I’m waiting for something to happen in order to justify it."

Don’t feel sorry for individuals with special needs or their families.They know what it is to have strength.
If you must: Feel sorry and pray for people who pretend to care about them while patronizing and judging behind their backs. They are weak.

"It’s complicated. It’s a process. (blah, blah, blah)"
FACT: Some things are quite simple and don’t need to be drawn out. A bit of common sense, decency and intellect travel far.
BUT: We like to hear ourselves talk, admire our place and/or be the paperwork martyr. All the while, turning people into wordy diagnoses that we shove in a prelabeled box we call "A Plan".
**Gotta go put my little diagnoses to bed. I hope he doesn’t do anything to defy his label. It’s such a hassle to get a new box out. And Sharpies are expensive.**

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Flash in the Pan: Happiness

23 Jan

I met my best friend while putting out a fire, or so I thought. Smoke was coming from my neighbor’s cellar. I ran over and felt the door. It wasn’t hot, so I figured I could handle it and be a hero. Their hose was nearby. I went over, turned it on, threw the door open and wildly sprayed that water.

“What the hell!” someone shouted.

I never saw that girl sitting on the steps. There she was though, hair stuck to her face, mascara running and a broken-wet cigarette dangling from her mouth. I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Something funny?” she yelled.

“Aren’t you a little young…” I started to say.

“I’m twelve, thank you!” she said angrily while moving the hair out of her eyes. “My name’s Happiness too. If you got something to say about that, I’ll kick your ass.”

“No.” I smiled. “I think we’re good.”

This was inspired by: M3 Flash Challenge
Word: HAPPINESS
Word Limit: 150
My word count: 150

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Apple does or doesn’t fall far from the tree?

18 Nov

My DNA? 50%

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Reunions: Minus the Hairspray

8 Oct

Hey gangstas!

Over the weekend, Cowboy and I went to his 25 year high school reunion. I know. Its hard to believe that someone as verbally hot as I clearly am, could be with someone so old. AND……..I’m right there with him (minus a year and a month). BUT……Here we are, kickin’ it until we kick it.

First………I want to say how great it was to go to a reunion that wasn’t mine. WHY, YOU ASK? Because……..There was no pressure to be anything other than myself, or some version of it, and I milked it until the cow cried for mercy. No one knew me. No expectations. Momma likes it when the bar is set low.

I didn’t know the popular from the unpopular. SO……….I wasn’t tempted to kiss anyone’s ass for a hug or a smile. NOR………did I huddle in a corner to gossip and point at people.I went to the bathroom to do that shit. After all, I’m a fucking lady. NOW………I’m not saying that anyone did those things at this reunion, but I’m not saying they didn’t. The point is: It was stress-free for me and I didn’t notice anything beyond my own good time.

OKAY………I lied. I noticed one person at the reunion had changed quite a bit. AND………for the better. You see……….the yearbook pics were put on everyone’s name tag, kind of like the “before” and “after” shots. I’ll admit to talking some trash about one guy’s pic, but only because he was so unrecognizable to me and a lot of other people. Seriously! I wanted to have sex with him.

I managed to get a hold of his wife’s yearbook pic. Since her graduation, she managed to tweeze her Groucho Marx brows and tone down the “Aqua Net” over spray look. Don’t get me wrong. She wasn’t a Victoria Secret model, but I’d allow her in the room with me and that makeover dude.

Here are their “before” and “after” pics:

Tim and Lorre Graduation

Tim and Lorre Reunion 1

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Flash in the Pan: “Finish Line Crawler”

2 Oct

Word: IDEA (150 word max)

Mr. Wolf was a real bully. He didn’t have any friends, and his family disowned him. Supposedly, he ate some old lady in the next county over, which isn’t frowned upon if one is starving, but it was a domestic dispute. There were rumors about her granddaughter and a restraining order.

Mr. Wolf had no social life, on account of the fact that no one wanted to be social with him. Therefore, he had plenty of time for career planning.  He took some business courses and attended “get rich quick” seminars. Eventually, he got into real estate. He bought up most of the town and became a slumlord. Life was pretty good, until those damned little pigs came to town. Then, he got an idea, which would lead to a whole world of trouble for Mr. Wolf.

This was inspired by M3 Flash Challenge. This piece contains 137 words.

Word: DINNER (125 word max)

I should’ve paid more attention. Perhaps then, I could’ve cheated death.

From the first moment of takeoff, everything was perfect. I was caressing the air and gliding with ease. I forgot the dangers of flying.

First, I flew upside down, then sideways. Suddenly, while in the middle of my triple loop, I felt myself losing control. Fear grew inside of me as I neared the lava-like liquid below. Once in, I would surely be a goner.

I hit! The heat danced around me with no escape. My skin bubbled as the scalding liquid ate through me. It was sheer  torture, and I knew it would be over soon. I was being cooked alive in someone’s dinner. Why did I have to be born a fly?

This was inspired by M3 Flash Challenge. This piece contains  125 words.

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Flash in the Pan: Vise/Vice

26 Sep

My wife just couldn’t accept the inevitable. Time moves on. We age and we grow. The twins were no exception. As much as she wanted them to stay their perfect and cute size, it wasn’t going to happen.  Time passed, just like I told her it would. New growth spurts occurred with every birthday, but she couldn’t adjust.

“I’ve never seen you so upset,” I said to my wife as I embraced her. “It’s natural sweetheart. Please stop crying.”

“But….Things will never be the same. I can barely breathe,” she said as she gasped for air.

“Sweetie,” I said. ”Fat happens. I’ll just get the vise. Before you know it, you’ll be back into that size thirty-six bra and then we’ll work on those jeans.”

“You’re such an ass,” she said. “Why does your one vice have to be brutal honesty?”

 

This was another M3 Flash Fiction Challenge, using vice and/or vise and a 150 word limit. This work has a 141 word count.

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Flash in the Pan: Company

26 Sep

Through the window, the moon’s faint light shone in a corner of the room. There lay an elderly man upon a wooden bed. Death seemed to blanket him, except for the noticeable uplift of his chest every few seconds. His frail frame twitched and twitched again. His discomfort was quite evident by his unconscious motions.

His eyelids opened suddenly, staring into the darkness. Realizing he left the window partly open, he arose with the greatest of effort. A chill ran through him as he proceeded towards the window. With every step, one could hear the floorboards creak in harmony with his stiff joints.

Reaching the window with shaking fingers, he pressed firmly on its frame. For a moment he stood still, as if to recover from his prolonged journey. Suddenly, he heard tapping at the door. Finally, the company had arrived to deliver him from his chilling hell.

This post was inspired by: M3 Flash Fiction Challenge.  The word is company, with a word limit of 150. My count is 148 words.

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Microsoft Scammers: Anyone could do that job?

23 Sep

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Can I touch it? Can I touch it?

16 Sep

Before the kids were home for the summer, I was going to the YMCA quite regularly……kickboxing, running, weights and some cycling. Summer hit and that went south quick. BUT………..To my delight, I still lost weight. I guess my move to watered down beer finally made a difference on my waistline. On a whim………I tried on a pair of jeans, I haven’t been able to wear for over four years. Low and behold, they fit! WELL………They fit as far as I’m concerned. I pulled those suckers up over my lower thighs and knew. I got them over the remaining thighs and the backend. SO………Here’s where I tweaked the fit a bit. Could I zip and button them? Well………I suppose. BUT………In order to breathe…..….I couldn’t. I zipped those suckers up, then used a rubber band to loop around the button, through the hole and back around the button. I rigged those bitches and it worked. AND………Thanks to the return of the 80’s, I layered myself with two different tank tops and a mid-drift shirt that fell in just the right spot. Something had to hide the hideous muffin top those jeans created. Did I care? HELL NO! I got into those damn jeans and without a camel toe. I call that……….”A great success”. Maybe in a month or so, ……..I’ll be able to use the actual button……..no rubber band required.

SO………….My unsightly muffin top got me to thinking. Why did I feel the need to hide it?

Well………Because:

1. No one wants to see that shit.

2. I don’t want anyone to see that shit.

3. Muffin top models haven’t been approved on runways yet.

BUT……….If my muffin top was replaced with a nice flat stomach or some six pack abs, then I would gladly flaunt them. In fact, people would ask to see them and touch them.

I suppose society isn’t ready to take a hold of some love handles or ask to bounce on someone’s chunky belly or fat ass. BUT……..They don’t feel shy saying they could bounce a quarter off a nice tight one. People like to touch augmented breasts as well, but no one wants to touch the “drooping to the ground” breasts that swing from left to right like a pendulum. Why not? It sounds like more fun. AND………Why touch a pregnant woman’s belly? Is it because there is something growing in there? Why not ask to feel up inside a nose or ear? You’d be surprised at the crap some people have growing in there. Why lick shots off a belly when you could lick snot off a lip? Why hang on someone’s biceps when you could fly with someone’s bat wings?

Just saying people. Just saying.

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