-1-
The dumbest question to ask a kid must be “What do you want to be when you grow up?” (Often preceded by “So”). For me the best answers for that are “How the fuck should I know, I’m seven”; “Lizzie Borden” and “Anything that takes me away from you.” But I never used any because even at that young age I knew it was an insincere “points winning” question usually asked by some dweeb whose aim was to screw my mother.
Continue reading “593: Limping Mind Games”
Another week, another Saturday Posting!
Week 592 if I’m not mistaken.
I wondered why I had so many random stories this week. But I realised why, I held the newspapers back and hadn’t read them for a few days, most of this nonsense, I found today. It’s actually a bit of fortune as I had very little to go on. What I did have can wait for another day.
Continue reading “Week 592 – R.I.P The AP, Julius Is Second And No Nail Varnish.”
Birthday Well Wishes
Happy 250th Independence Day to America! (and to everyone also born on this date, Eva Marie Saint at a whopping 102 and Elliott the Header Pigeon who is attending the Extreme Cigarette Butt Eating Contest in Philadelphia this holiday weekend ). It may not be in season for some to say nice things about and to America, but the U.S.A., like most places is far more good than bad and is a collection of people–not just one person. To all who sneer, I suggest you read what J.C. had to say on the subject of stone casting. And although it is further ironic that the UK should wish the former colonies happy birthday, just think how chaotic things would be if the Revolutionary War had gone the other way. PM Trump anyone?
Now, On with the Show
Asking writers why they write is pointless. It’s the same reason why kleptos steal and killers kill; it is a mental compulsion, sometimes good sometimes bad and always somewhere along the borders of insanity. Some people have the writing disease way worse than most. The bad off will cut words into their skin if they have no other way of getting the job done (and for the visual artist, Van Gogh’s ear-ectomy definitely got a lot more than a thousand words across). Most of us can control ourselves to the extent we can wait until a saner method is handy. But the answer is always the same. Writers write because they are writers. Birds bird. Lizards lizard. Maggots get compared to unsavory people. Writers can go through long periods of inactivity (for some that may be weeks, for me not even a day), but there will always come a time when it must happen, or (to quote Hemingway) we state: “I feel fucked inside.”
Continue reading “Week 591: Natural Born Quillers”
Week 590 has crept up on us.
I am writing this before Scotland’s last group game at The World Cup. They began well with a win over Haiti. Let’s just say that the game with Morocco didn’t go so well. After seventy seconds, the whole of Scotland screamed ‘Awwwwwww FUCK!!!!!’
Continue reading “Week 590 – ‘A Scottish Soldier Is Worse’, ‘Perfect Skin’ Is As Good And A Happy Century!!!”
Well here we are at Week 588.
I was going out on Tuesday to a swanky restaurant and I thought about wearing a tie. Not just a tie, I’ve been in trouble for doing that before. I realised that apart from weddings and funerals, I only think about wearing a tie but never do. I think a tie is smart. I have quite a few. I’ve lost three stunning black ones due to loaning them to people for funerals.
Continue reading “Week 588 – Has America Enough Tennents? You’ll Need More…Seriously, Import more!!!”
(Elliott the Pigeon is on Vacation this week; Daisy Kloverleaf and her brother Fenwick are the header stars. Daisy is on your left)
One of life’s burdens involves processing repetition. Some people are sensitive to it, others meet it with the awareness of a cantaloupe. I am not always smarter than produce, but I have a keen sense for repetition. Therefore I know that the eternal concepts of Good and Bad dictate the perception of welcomed and unwanted repetition. A woman who keeps peeling off twenties is obviously a good thing to have repeated at you, but unless she is gaining something worth it the peeler may have different feelings in her cold little heart–that emotional storage bin that imploded eons ago and is so compressed into inner dimensions that it takes three journeys through as many event horizons just to reach the outskirts of her kindness. You may assume that she, the peeler, has developed a sense of negativity for the old “again and again.”
Continue reading “Week 587: Sometimes it Helps to Hear Another Voice”
Another week to round-up, Week 586 to be exact. (I’m sure I’ve asked before but, how many of our American friends are familiar with the episode of Bilko that had the song, ‘The Last Round-up in it??)
Anyhow, I’d like to start with a song. This is one of those weird songs as in I forget how much I love it until I hear it! I am listening to it as I write this, hence this beginning!!
I’m going to try something different here this week.
Normally I go off in tangents. I’m all over the place and one topic leads to another. But not today.
I’m going to investigate the status quo. And that’ll give me a reason to let you hear some music that a lot of folks hate but I hope that you listen with an open mind, or open ears or whatever the fuck.
Continue reading “Week 584 – The Norm, No Need To Iron And Mr Rossi Is Still Going!”
Tomorrow is Mother’s Day in the U.S. of A. (In the UK and Ireland it was 15 March–a belated happy one to Diane and the rest of the Islanders), I am not a mother, but I had one and found her to be sufficient. She was the sort of Mother who would die for her children and often made this one wish she would do just that.
We are awfully unfair to our mothers. We either over praise them up to Mother Mary Poppins or we blame them for not just all the heinous shit we do but for all the heinous shit ever committed in history. Expecting mothers to maintain a higher standard than what we are willing to consider is one of humankind’s greatest failings. Still, objectivity is not something we associate with family members. But alack and alas, all in all, in the end, everything tabulated, I’m glad I got the mother I was stuck with (vice versa); I do not believe anyone else out there could have made me and–despite my plentiful laments on the subject of me–I am used to being the person I am, and I’ve never been one for wishing I was someone else.
Continue reading “Week 583: Mama Mama Please No More Step Dads”
Here we go again. Welcome to Week 582.
Before I start, I’ll answer the riddle that I set on my last posting.
Off the top of my head –
Two letters make a male – He.
Add one to become female – Her.
Add another to become male again – Hero.
Add three to go back to female – Heroine.
Take one away and if you take this you won’t care what you are – Heroin.
Continue reading “Week 582 – A Wrecking Crew, Going For Five And Let’s Not Forget.”
literally stories 