Erin owned a boutique called Twig Zagging. She sold priceless twigs, one of a kind. On weekends she would spend hours in the forest searching for fragile, elegant, complex twigs for her inventory.
It was a mystery to her why she was struggling to make the rent. Why didn't others cherish these wooden jewels?
She considered branching out into branches, but they were mostly boring and clunky. You couldn't wear a branch around your neck or wrist.
Just when it seemed she might have to give up the shop, a tall, well dressed Englishman named Lawrence strutted in. He had heard about the place from her website. He smiled confidently and wandered around the shop, wordlessly pointing his ivory tipped walking stick at various gems encased in glass. He wound up buying $5000 worth of twigs.
Erin was so grateful she offered to cook him dinner. Lawrence winked and brought something out of his pocket. It was a plastic bag containing, he said, his recently removed kidney stones. Erin was charmed and flattered he would share former body elements with her.
The relationship moved quickly and they were married.
They renamed the shop Sticks and Stones and lived happily ever after.
See, not all my posts are negative.
Saturday, May 31, 2014
Harry's Third Arm
Harry's third arm was almost completely formed. Only the fingernails were missing. Over sized clothes did not help conceal his issue. He and I participated in the same experiment, testing new drugs to combat sinus congestion back in 2011.
I looked at him and saw my future. Researchers had injected us with compounds, as well as having us inhale other substances. Harry's breathing improved; mine didn't. Initially I was jealous. Why him and not me?
Ten months later his third arm started developing. A dermatologist said it was probably just a cyst and would go away on its own. Yeah, right.
Here we are in the spring of 2014 and he's adapted quite admirably. In fact, he's using it to brush his teeth.He can almost pick his nose with it.
As you might expect I keep checking my body for irregularities and except for a tiny opening under my rib cage, everything seems fine. Well, when I pee, a few drops leak out my side, but taped tissue covers it nicely. For $5 I'll show you.
I looked at him and saw my future. Researchers had injected us with compounds, as well as having us inhale other substances. Harry's breathing improved; mine didn't. Initially I was jealous. Why him and not me?
Ten months later his third arm started developing. A dermatologist said it was probably just a cyst and would go away on its own. Yeah, right.
Here we are in the spring of 2014 and he's adapted quite admirably. In fact, he's using it to brush his teeth.He can almost pick his nose with it.
As you might expect I keep checking my body for irregularities and except for a tiny opening under my rib cage, everything seems fine. Well, when I pee, a few drops leak out my side, but taped tissue covers it nicely. For $5 I'll show you.
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
Baking a Cake
Maddie and Cristo had planned this evening for weeks. Their sex was good, not great. Maddie suggested they bake a cake together with a twinkle in her eye. Cristo sensed the subtext immediately.
The day came and there they stood, side by side, pounding batter. Initially they employed a tandem, metronome effect, slow and steady. Soon they sped up and increased intensity, alternating poundings. Batter splattered over everything, driving them to yelps, groans, gasps, tribal shouts and hip thrusting.
At the height of ecstacy, Maddie screamed 'Oscar! Oscar!'
Cristo also yelled 'Oscar, Oscar!'
They stopped dead and stared at each other. I thought you were just friends, Cristo said.
I thought YOU were just friends, Maddie responded.
They took note of the annihilated batter. Now what, Maddie asked. We have all this icing. Cristo smiled seductively. Are you thinking what I'm thinking? he asked. Maddie nodded slowly.
The icing was, indeed, put to interesting use. They found candles, which they also employed creatively.
Afterward they went to a local cafe and had cheesecake with whipped cream and a cherry on top.
The day came and there they stood, side by side, pounding batter. Initially they employed a tandem, metronome effect, slow and steady. Soon they sped up and increased intensity, alternating poundings. Batter splattered over everything, driving them to yelps, groans, gasps, tribal shouts and hip thrusting.
At the height of ecstacy, Maddie screamed 'Oscar! Oscar!'
Cristo also yelled 'Oscar, Oscar!'
They stopped dead and stared at each other. I thought you were just friends, Cristo said.
I thought YOU were just friends, Maddie responded.
They took note of the annihilated batter. Now what, Maddie asked. We have all this icing. Cristo smiled seductively. Are you thinking what I'm thinking? he asked. Maddie nodded slowly.
The icing was, indeed, put to interesting use. They found candles, which they also employed creatively.
Afterward they went to a local cafe and had cheesecake with whipped cream and a cherry on top.
Tuesday, May 27, 2014
Chance Encounter
She had wide feet with bunions. Let's get that out of the way. She didn't have to sit next to me while waiting for the Path train. There were two other open seats. When we got on the train she stood right next to me holding the same pole. There were plenty of other poles in that car. Plus overhead railing. But there she was with her blue nail polish and thin wrist.
Now let me make this clear. I did not drop my program from a show I had just attended on purpose. I even said I'd pick it up, but she beat me to it. So I thanked her and began scanning through my photos on my camera around my neck. I did this for many stops without looking up. I have great discipline in these circumstances. When I did look up for a micro second I saw she wa quite attractive in that mid twenties Seattle mode. Her eyes flashed at me and I looked away. I was doing nothing wrong, so I should have met her eyes and said something.
Maybe she should have asked me about the show I'd seen. Be that as it may, neither of us verbally engaged the rest of the trip.
Just before my stop, she sneezed. I said God bless you. She didn't even look at me or respond. I got off and never looked back.If you consider yourself a man, that is how you deal with near misses. Hey, she had her shot. The bunions wouldn't have been such a deal breaker.
Now let me make this clear. I did not drop my program from a show I had just attended on purpose. I even said I'd pick it up, but she beat me to it. So I thanked her and began scanning through my photos on my camera around my neck. I did this for many stops without looking up. I have great discipline in these circumstances. When I did look up for a micro second I saw she wa quite attractive in that mid twenties Seattle mode. Her eyes flashed at me and I looked away. I was doing nothing wrong, so I should have met her eyes and said something.
Maybe she should have asked me about the show I'd seen. Be that as it may, neither of us verbally engaged the rest of the trip.
Just before my stop, she sneezed. I said God bless you. She didn't even look at me or respond. I got off and never looked back.If you consider yourself a man, that is how you deal with near misses. Hey, she had her shot. The bunions wouldn't have been such a deal breaker.
Wednesday, May 21, 2014
Replacing a Legend
Just because I'm the great chef Laflosse's brother doesn't mean I can cook. But when he was sent away for tax evasion, I decided to take control of his empire, much to the consternation of chefs working under him.
I immediately created a new menu based on my ideas and experimentation. Here is what I came up with.
muskrat soup, bat juice, pea & carrot sauce, ground hog souffle, barbecued lizard tongue, owl lips on toast, greased llama nipples, low fat mosquito yogurt, flaming celery, pelican dropping topping, boiled baboon phlegm, chopped ferret, sauteed possum, platypus stew, roasted sparrow nuts, wolfhound liver, carp panini, salted roach, tadpole on a roll, double decker wombat deluxe with fries.
It's too early to determine if patrons are willing to break out of their nutritional comfort zone. Barf bags are on order. Who knows? By the time my brother gets out I may have my own franchise.
I immediately created a new menu based on my ideas and experimentation. Here is what I came up with.
muskrat soup, bat juice, pea & carrot sauce, ground hog souffle, barbecued lizard tongue, owl lips on toast, greased llama nipples, low fat mosquito yogurt, flaming celery, pelican dropping topping, boiled baboon phlegm, chopped ferret, sauteed possum, platypus stew, roasted sparrow nuts, wolfhound liver, carp panini, salted roach, tadpole on a roll, double decker wombat deluxe with fries.
It's too early to determine if patrons are willing to break out of their nutritional comfort zone. Barf bags are on order. Who knows? By the time my brother gets out I may have my own franchise.
Composure is Overrated
The hell with unflappable composure. Meet chaos with chaos. Sobbing is an option. I got a flat tire, stood by the side of the road sobbing. A pathetic senior citizen creates a response. Six people fixed my tire. There are people who won't change expression if hot coffee spills on them. These are stupid people. Anything involving pain, you will hear me howling.
As a writer I'm supposed to read my work in front of audiences. What if a hot woman is in the first row? Or my probation officer? Suppose Phillip Roth were to take a seat? Am I supposed to remain nonplussed. Hell, I'll act plussed like nobody's business.
Go with your emotions. If Linda Blair had stayed calm how dull The Exorcist would've been.
Public breakdowns garner attention which you can turn into a brand and bring in profit.
Obama is too calm. We should have elected a howler. Give Putin something to think about.
As a writer I'm supposed to read my work in front of audiences. What if a hot woman is in the first row? Or my probation officer? Suppose Phillip Roth were to take a seat? Am I supposed to remain nonplussed. Hell, I'll act plussed like nobody's business.
Go with your emotions. If Linda Blair had stayed calm how dull The Exorcist would've been.
Public breakdowns garner attention which you can turn into a brand and bring in profit.
Obama is too calm. We should have elected a howler. Give Putin something to think about.
Sunday, May 18, 2014
Never on Sunday
I made a resolution never to expatiate on Sunday.That is the one day I refrain from giving my opinion on anything. The rest of the week I maintain a steady pounding of thoughts, most of which are complex and frankly, intimidating.
I take no joy in dominating my intellectual circle, but what would you have me do? Would you ask Aaron Copeland to compose commercial ditties? Picasso to paint apples? Martha Graham to hopscotch? Spencer Tracy to recite limericks? James Joyce to write haikus?
How can someone of my erudite composition refrain from sharing my wisdom? Six days a week I allow my mind to reign and let the ignorant be damned. But on Sunday I ensconce myself in my favorite cafe, sipping my French vanilla ice coffee, reading the NY Post, resting my brain. I speak no three syllable words, no sentences with dependent clauses, discuss naught but cars, sports and loose women.
No philosophy, no historical perspective, no academia. I will not quote Yeats or John Lennon. I will, instead, descend to the level of discourse of those around me. Sometimes one has to declare an intellectual truce and not think very hard about anything.
Which is how this blog got written.
I take no joy in dominating my intellectual circle, but what would you have me do? Would you ask Aaron Copeland to compose commercial ditties? Picasso to paint apples? Martha Graham to hopscotch? Spencer Tracy to recite limericks? James Joyce to write haikus?
How can someone of my erudite composition refrain from sharing my wisdom? Six days a week I allow my mind to reign and let the ignorant be damned. But on Sunday I ensconce myself in my favorite cafe, sipping my French vanilla ice coffee, reading the NY Post, resting my brain. I speak no three syllable words, no sentences with dependent clauses, discuss naught but cars, sports and loose women.
No philosophy, no historical perspective, no academia. I will not quote Yeats or John Lennon. I will, instead, descend to the level of discourse of those around me. Sometimes one has to declare an intellectual truce and not think very hard about anything.
Which is how this blog got written.
Bleeding on the Inside
They just let me flop around helplessly. This brutal masquerade of tempting me with goodies, only to stick a hook in my cheek. The humiliation of being yanked away from friends and family. The stench of beer and pizza, the haughty laughter, the sounds of entitlement. The aura of power.
The disdainful tone when they spout my name. Letting me bake in the sun, struggling to breathe, unable to blink because I have no eyelids.
These hard men and their women, playing raucous music, dancing salaciously, stepping on my prone body. Kicking me aside. I may as well be part of the deck.
My expression does not change, but this carp is damaged in ways that go deep within my psyche. Yes, my identity has been ripped to shreds. I am, indeed, bleeding on the inside.
Damn fishermen.
The disdainful tone when they spout my name. Letting me bake in the sun, struggling to breathe, unable to blink because I have no eyelids.
These hard men and their women, playing raucous music, dancing salaciously, stepping on my prone body. Kicking me aside. I may as well be part of the deck.
My expression does not change, but this carp is damaged in ways that go deep within my psyche. Yes, my identity has been ripped to shreds. I am, indeed, bleeding on the inside.
Damn fishermen.
Friday, May 16, 2014
Jargon of Science
The quantum cycle is full of expanding wave functions. This cycle controls the composite substance whose effluvia moderates heat distribution. Wave functions are only as effective as the coordination of fragmentary interstices that comprise the parabola of the common noodle.
Each noodle has its own wave length, and, thus, different taste patterns. Modular inconsistencies in the cooking process have led to psychotic breaks in mercenaries and entire synchronized swimming teams.
The quantum cycle is transmuted into noodle poetry or art, easily accessible to neophytes.
All wave functions are shut down so as not to interfere with International Pillow Fight day. A compendium of physicists have created a specific equation which shows how the cycle can be most effectively used during these battles.
Because this activity uses up so much energy, participants are often fed with bowls of expanding noodles, creating a fulcrum of carbohydrates.
Afterward, everyone goes dancing.
Next week we discuss heat inversion during New Age sex.
Each noodle has its own wave length, and, thus, different taste patterns. Modular inconsistencies in the cooking process have led to psychotic breaks in mercenaries and entire synchronized swimming teams.
The quantum cycle is transmuted into noodle poetry or art, easily accessible to neophytes.
All wave functions are shut down so as not to interfere with International Pillow Fight day. A compendium of physicists have created a specific equation which shows how the cycle can be most effectively used during these battles.
Because this activity uses up so much energy, participants are often fed with bowls of expanding noodles, creating a fulcrum of carbohydrates.
Afterward, everyone goes dancing.
Next week we discuss heat inversion during New Age sex.
Dripping Bundle
Ishmael cringed when the man clomped in with his wooden leg. Every Wednesday, same time, same guy. Same dripping bundle.
The bearded, craggy fellow was always dressed in black. Ishmael was the only waiter on duty, so once again he would try to convince the man this was a vegan restaurant. They did not cook or serve whale meat.
The man shoved the bundle into his arms. "My dinner," he growled.
"Sir, I explained to you many times before about our policy of not serving meat. Whales are mammals, not fish. How about a steaming bowl of Brussels sprouts?"
The fellow rose to his full height. "You land lubbing cabbage. I will teach you respect for a seafaring man."
He pulled a mini-harpoon from his jacket and was about to fire when Ishmael decided reasoning with this maniac was useless. He grabbed a lit candle from the next table and tossed it at the frothing fisherman, whose reflexes were dulled by Xanax.
Second degree burns resulted. Two months later, after healing, the man returned without any bundle. Instead, he offered the waiter a position on his ship. Ishmael immediately accepted. Adventure was there to be had.
"Do you mind if I take notes on board?" he asked.
Ahab grunted, which he took as a yes. The rest is history.
The bearded, craggy fellow was always dressed in black. Ishmael was the only waiter on duty, so once again he would try to convince the man this was a vegan restaurant. They did not cook or serve whale meat.
The man shoved the bundle into his arms. "My dinner," he growled.
"Sir, I explained to you many times before about our policy of not serving meat. Whales are mammals, not fish. How about a steaming bowl of Brussels sprouts?"
The fellow rose to his full height. "You land lubbing cabbage. I will teach you respect for a seafaring man."
He pulled a mini-harpoon from his jacket and was about to fire when Ishmael decided reasoning with this maniac was useless. He grabbed a lit candle from the next table and tossed it at the frothing fisherman, whose reflexes were dulled by Xanax.
Second degree burns resulted. Two months later, after healing, the man returned without any bundle. Instead, he offered the waiter a position on his ship. Ishmael immediately accepted. Adventure was there to be had.
"Do you mind if I take notes on board?" he asked.
Ahab grunted, which he took as a yes. The rest is history.
Monday, May 5, 2014
Low Gear
Greg used to be a whirligig of activity. He made law partner at 29, played racquetball, traveled, danced, played the bongos. He hated wasting time.
One day he tried to get out of bed and could not move. His body had broken down overnight. He knew his mind would follow if he didn't change his life.
Greg called in sick for the first time ever. He needed to think things through. When he finally managed to get dressed, he decided to go for a walk in a nearby park he had never visited. By the entrance, two men sat on a bench looking incredibly relaxed. He'd often seen these fellows at that spot when he stopped for a red light on his way to work.
He introduced himself. The men responded in kind--Joe and Keith. Greg asked how they could look like they hadn't a care in the world. They smiled at each other.
"Some years ago, when pet rabbits were all the rage, we invested in ferrets," Joe said. "Not as cuddly. In fact, quite vicious when annoyed."
"We created a start up called Ferret Guard," Keith added. "Pushed it as security for kids. Cheaper than an attack dog. Parents ate it up. Ferrets On A Leash exploded. Within a year we sold the company to Oracle for a fortune. Now we just sit here and enjoy the day."
Greg took a deep breath. "Wow. Can you give me a hint? What's the next big thing?"
"Hell, we'll just tell you. Hunting lawyers. We bought a large tract of unused land. People hate lawyers and love to hunt. It screams reality show," Joe said. "How much can you invest?"
"Actually," Greg said, "I'm a lawyer."
Keith shrugged.
"How fast can you run?"
One day he tried to get out of bed and could not move. His body had broken down overnight. He knew his mind would follow if he didn't change his life.
Greg called in sick for the first time ever. He needed to think things through. When he finally managed to get dressed, he decided to go for a walk in a nearby park he had never visited. By the entrance, two men sat on a bench looking incredibly relaxed. He'd often seen these fellows at that spot when he stopped for a red light on his way to work.
He introduced himself. The men responded in kind--Joe and Keith. Greg asked how they could look like they hadn't a care in the world. They smiled at each other.
"Some years ago, when pet rabbits were all the rage, we invested in ferrets," Joe said. "Not as cuddly. In fact, quite vicious when annoyed."
"We created a start up called Ferret Guard," Keith added. "Pushed it as security for kids. Cheaper than an attack dog. Parents ate it up. Ferrets On A Leash exploded. Within a year we sold the company to Oracle for a fortune. Now we just sit here and enjoy the day."
Greg took a deep breath. "Wow. Can you give me a hint? What's the next big thing?"
"Hell, we'll just tell you. Hunting lawyers. We bought a large tract of unused land. People hate lawyers and love to hunt. It screams reality show," Joe said. "How much can you invest?"
"Actually," Greg said, "I'm a lawyer."
Keith shrugged.
"How fast can you run?"
Cheap Perfume
Mabel chugged another beer and turned to Luke.
"Where's my anniversary present?"
Luke squinted like he does when thinking hard. Took a long gulp of his brew.
"Be right back."
Went inside, pulled out the trunk from the closet, rummaged around until he found a bottle of Castor Oil. Mixed in lemon juice, eye drops and asparagus juice. Squirted in some artichoke juice for good measure. Ripped off the Caster Oil label and now he had a plain old bottle. Shook it up real good. Walked back out to the porch.
"Happy Anniversary, sweetums."
Mabel stared at the bottle warily.
"Perfume, honey. Just on the market."
Mabel arched an eyebrow.
"You didn't pee in this, did you?"
Luke laughed. Mabel waited a bit before joining in. Dabbed that stuff all over. Then they finished their beer and headed off to dinner at In and Out Burger. Twenty five years was damn special and that's what they ordered with lots of gravy.
"Where's my anniversary present?"
Luke squinted like he does when thinking hard. Took a long gulp of his brew.
"Be right back."
Went inside, pulled out the trunk from the closet, rummaged around until he found a bottle of Castor Oil. Mixed in lemon juice, eye drops and asparagus juice. Squirted in some artichoke juice for good measure. Ripped off the Caster Oil label and now he had a plain old bottle. Shook it up real good. Walked back out to the porch.
"Happy Anniversary, sweetums."
Mabel stared at the bottle warily.
"Perfume, honey. Just on the market."
Mabel arched an eyebrow.
"You didn't pee in this, did you?"
Luke laughed. Mabel waited a bit before joining in. Dabbed that stuff all over. Then they finished their beer and headed off to dinner at In and Out Burger. Twenty five years was damn special and that's what they ordered with lots of gravy.
Ants
I have ants. All over my kitchen table. Under my laptop. Grabbed my any spray, shook it up good and let the little bastards have it. Oh, they scrambled and dodged, but my aim is true.
I think ants have courage and strength and dexterity and taste. They don't just go after stale bread crumbs. Not the white bread. My ants congregate around multi-grain and debate its virtues. Only afterwards do they lug it away to wherever their colony hides.
I wonder if they've somehow infiltrated my laptop and gotten messages out to other colonies that my quarters are rich in nutrients. What if roaches intercept these messages? Oh boy.
I think this ant spray may work as an aphrodisiac. It makes them fornicate, because now dozens more have leaped into the fray.
It's going to be a long morning.
I think ants have courage and strength and dexterity and taste. They don't just go after stale bread crumbs. Not the white bread. My ants congregate around multi-grain and debate its virtues. Only afterwards do they lug it away to wherever their colony hides.
I wonder if they've somehow infiltrated my laptop and gotten messages out to other colonies that my quarters are rich in nutrients. What if roaches intercept these messages? Oh boy.
I think this ant spray may work as an aphrodisiac. It makes them fornicate, because now dozens more have leaped into the fray.
It's going to be a long morning.
Saturday, May 3, 2014
Diego Santiago
I leave the house unshaven, smelling of wood burning. I walk slowly and scowl through bad sections even crooked drug lords avoid. I enter dimly lit dive bars and order many drinks. I am Diego Santiago and I carry a Glock.
Mystery surrounds me. Some say I am working undercover. Others claim I am an evil spirit incarnate. Whispers attest I can a man 18 ways with my bare hands.
I wear leather in all the right places.
The name of this bar is Corpuscle. I saunter up to the bartender, a lean, seedy man with a mustache crawling with insects. He eyes me warily. I am looking for this man, I say, showing him a photo. I nudge my Glock so he can see it.
I know him, he says. He is here on and off. You do not want to mess with this man, sir.
I am Diego Santiago and I mess with whom I please. The bartender's eyes glance behind me and instinctively I whirl and draw. The man behind me also draws, but he is too slow. I pump three bullets into his exploding stomach and he falls to the sawdust covered floor.
I walk over and speak to the corpse. I hated you as a child. Hated all the phoniness and that soft, feminine voice. I hated your gentleness. You emasculated generations of men with your sensitivity. Go to the hell you deserve, gringo.
I step over Mr. Rogers and out into the night.
I need a woman.
Mystery surrounds me. Some say I am working undercover. Others claim I am an evil spirit incarnate. Whispers attest I can a man 18 ways with my bare hands.
I wear leather in all the right places.
The name of this bar is Corpuscle. I saunter up to the bartender, a lean, seedy man with a mustache crawling with insects. He eyes me warily. I am looking for this man, I say, showing him a photo. I nudge my Glock so he can see it.
I know him, he says. He is here on and off. You do not want to mess with this man, sir.
I am Diego Santiago and I mess with whom I please. The bartender's eyes glance behind me and instinctively I whirl and draw. The man behind me also draws, but he is too slow. I pump three bullets into his exploding stomach and he falls to the sawdust covered floor.
I walk over and speak to the corpse. I hated you as a child. Hated all the phoniness and that soft, feminine voice. I hated your gentleness. You emasculated generations of men with your sensitivity. Go to the hell you deserve, gringo.
I step over Mr. Rogers and out into the night.
I need a woman.
Nightmare
I dreamed I was an Irish step dancer involved in a huge spectacle on Broadway with my visiting troupe. I spot Sofia in the first row, my former lover, and completely lose focus. I stumble and lose my balance, taking out eight other members. The curtain comes down as the audience howls with laughter. No one will speak or look at me. We are humiliated.
Outside, as I leave the theater in tears, Sofia comes up to me and whispers something in Spanish, gently touching my arm. I sense she wants me again.
But then she pecks me on the cheek and walks away without another word.
Later, I have a Spanish friend translate her words.
"Clumsy Imbecile."
Once again I break into tears. Perhaps I lack the constitution to be a hardened step dancer. We cut our tour short and came home. I am awaiting a meeting with our producer. I will probably be fired.
Women.
I wake up and Sofia is lying next to me. I dress and head to my job laying tar and fixing potholes. My ramrod posture suggests my step dancing potential.
Outside, as I leave the theater in tears, Sofia comes up to me and whispers something in Spanish, gently touching my arm. I sense she wants me again.
But then she pecks me on the cheek and walks away without another word.
Later, I have a Spanish friend translate her words.
"Clumsy Imbecile."
Once again I break into tears. Perhaps I lack the constitution to be a hardened step dancer. We cut our tour short and came home. I am awaiting a meeting with our producer. I will probably be fired.
Women.
I wake up and Sofia is lying next to me. I dress and head to my job laying tar and fixing potholes. My ramrod posture suggests my step dancing potential.
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