Tuesday, July 21, 2015

Wall

Understand, I had my sofa taken to the dumpster, creating more room in my parlor. I loved my new space. The other night I shut off the lights and TV and strode toward the bathroom. I proceeded to walk right into the wall. Twelve years I'm here and I still don't know where the damn walls are.
My nose hit first, then the wood shelf jutting from the wall smacked me right above the knee. I'm too much of a man to howl. But I cursed up a storm.
I lay in bed with ice on it, praying there was no serious damage. I was limping around the next day, gritting my teeth. There is no way I will ever trip over my coffee table or the excess quilt on my bed. Luckily my nose looks the same.
I believe at this rate I'm two months from assisted living. If humans had a check engine light mine would be on all the damn time.

Wonder Woman and Ant Man

Wonder Woman has as much strength and dexterity as a man.
Her lariat is an awesome weapon.
Her hair and lipstick are perfect.
She can climb anything.

Ant Man has height and weight issues. He stuffs tissue in the groin of his suit.
Periodically he gets beaten up by roaches.
He has no secret weapon and no cool auto.
He seems to have a problem with alcohol.

Men are intimidated by Wonder Woman
Many nights she sits home alone watching Netflicks.
Ant Man almost had a date with her
But he got buried in a glob of mustard from her hoagie.

Sunday, July 19, 2015

Blotch

Laura was so beautiful I almost went into a swoon. Perfect hair, teeth, and posture. Very toned body. Amazing eyes. Except there were these blotches on her face. Very colorful, I must say. I viewed them as genetic artistry; tiny artists working feverishly under her skin, mixing and matching colors.
When she coughed or sneezed little drops of color sprayed out of her mouth and onto my Old Navy shirt. People stared at us like we were performance artists.
Once, I got drunk and painted blotches on my skin. Laura was not amused. In the process of removing the paint I went into Turpentine overdose shock. Laura gave me a stern lecture in the hospital, but my mother hugged me. I'm not sure I'm compatible with a  blotch challenged woman, as colorful as they are. At least warts are all pretty much the same color.

The Boat

You can't escape from a boat very easily. Rocco invited me onto his and I was flattered. I had been involved in an investment involving a race horse with guys who might be considered shady. But Rocco wasn't one of them. I didn't like what the plan was and removed myself from the situation.
These guys wanted the jockey to throw a race, but he had too much integrity. They found him in a dumpster with several important body parts missing.
The weather was gorgeous. Nothing like fresh sea air. Gulls fired off their sharp messages. I was ready to take a nap after lunch.
Suddenly two guys stormed out of the cabin pointing guns at me. Rocco moved aside. I recognized the guys from the race fixing scheme. Tony and Paulie Walnuts. I could jump overboard and drown trying to swim back. Or I could just say a prayer.
Guys, I said, I removed myself from the situation. Remember?
Loose ends, is all Tony said. Paulie grunted.
I sighed. One request, I said. Not in the face

Friday, July 17, 2015

Card Table

I destroyed my old kitchen table, which I've had for eons. It was shaky and too big for my kitchen. I replaced it with a card table. It's lower than the one it replaced, back, square, with four folding chairs. Folding chairs are so easy to operate.If someone says why a card table, I will deny its essence and claim it's a kitchen table.
I also got rid of my computer chair, which I used in the kitchen. It rolled between fridge, sink and shelves. I'll miss the excitement.
I also bought laminate floor covering with underlay, which you must have for support.
I continued upgrading my condo by removing my sliding doors in the shower. Tragically, one frame ripped off four wall tiles. I tried gluing them back on. Now I've taped them. I just hope the tape is waterproof.
What can I say? I'm on a roll.

Monday, July 13, 2015

Organized Chaos

I'm trying to organize all my writing, a massive undertaking. My ninth book is coming out soon and there are five more in the flash fiction series. I fear I will somehow lose track of which story appeared where. I do not  want the same story in two different books. My readership will feel cheated.Distraught.
So many similar titles. What was I thinking? Of course the solution is placing each genre in a separate file. My nephew set it up for me and all I have to do is drag them over.
On the one hand, I'm proud of my prolific output. On the other, It makes me wonder what else I've been doing in my life. Some of these stories I don't evn remember creating. Add in almost 1000 blog posts--man, I need to get out more.
Seriously, I keep pushing fellow writers to finish their project and move on. Needless to say, I'm not popular with other scribblers.
By the end of the month, Aghast will be out there competing with Harper Lee and her new book. I do not feel competitive. In fact, I think she's kind of hot.

Saturday, July 11, 2015

Caught in the Act

Stupidly, I left my laptop open next to my notebook. I had been finding strange changes to my polished writing on the Toshiba. Was someone sneaking in and fooling with my text?
I set up a recording device to monitor my work space.
I am a rational man who believes only in what I see. What I saw left me speechless.
Crossed out words and sentences from my notebook were crawling off and into my laptop, insinuating themselves in my edited text, in the process pushing out better word choice and imagery.
Evidently, rejection infuriated them. I locked up my notebook and assumed the problem was contained.
However, when I attended my next writer group meeting, Cecelia showed me her screen. My work is disappearing and is being replaced by total silliness, she said.
I immediately recognized my own work.
It's hard to keep a straight face when you're throwing up inside your mouth.