Question of the Day

Does stupidity hurt? Cause if it does, I know certain people who are in constant pain. Or maybe it just hurts the people that surround them, and they are in a constant state of ignorant bliss.

Remember, every time you do something stupid, God kills a kitty.

Think before you act.

Plagiarism Begins at Home

"Mr. Fitzgerald -- I believe that is how he spells his name -- seems to believe that plagiarism begins at home." Zelda Sayre Fitzgerald


"He's just Dreamy" is not a reason to read a writer's work. It's also not a reason to publish said writer's work. Especially when said work is shallow, pompous, and pretentious.

My God, no wonder Zelda drank!

Make a Wish

"SURPRISE!!!!!!"

Oh God. There's nothing worse than having a group of people screaming at you at the top of their lungs. Edward hated surprises. He hated his birthday. He hated people remembering his birthday by yelling surprise as he walked in his front door. All he wanted was to sit on his couch with a cold bottle of beer, and have his brain drip out of his ear as he watched really bad porn. Porn so bad it didn't even arouse him anymore, just embarrassed him. Because at the age of forty nine he shouldn't need to watch porn anymore. Except he wasn't forty nine. Because today was his birthday.

People began to crowd around him, kissing his cheek, shaking his hand, patting him on the back. He put his brief case down and began to take off his jacket, loosening his tie as he walked towards the kitchen. Carla was standing in the middle, like a captain at command, sending out hot hors d'oeuvres and drinks to the assembled masses. A saucy grin appeared on her lips as she caught his eye; she paused momentarily to inspect a stuffed mushroom concoction before launching it, then opened the refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of his favorite imported beer. She deftly flipped the cap off, then sauntered over to him. She handed him the bottle as she stood on tip toe, planting a soft kiss on his lips.

"Surprise," she whispered softly.

He took the beer and chugged half of it down in one gulp. Damn, that was fine beer. He burped loudly and leaned against the counter top, giving her a look mixed with disappointment and resentment.

"You promised you wouldn't do anything."

She patted his hand, and nodded her head towards a large woman in bright colors, yards of beads jumbled up around her neck and wrists.

"I didn't. Aunt Molly has been planning this for the last five months. Molly said your mother would have wanted this, since she missed so many of your birthdays when you were little."

He winced as he took another swig of beer.

"When your mother dies in child birth, she misses all of your birthdays when you're little."

"I know. Molly's heart is in the right place, it's just her head . . "

"Is firmly up her . . ."

Carla nudged him as Molly appeared, her face sweaty, her eyes moist and puffy. Molly staggered a little as she flung her arms around Edward's neck.

"There's my sweet boy! Happy birthday darling! It seems like only yesterday you were born! Where has the time gone? Oh my sweet, darling boy!"

She began to sprout fresh tears, letting her head fall against Edward's chest, leaving fresh stains of mascara and lip stick on his shirt. Edward sighed, and put his arms around her, hugging her tight, his hands patting her back.

"I hear all this was your idea, Molly Dolly. Don't you know I hate people making a fuss on my birthday?"

Molly lifted her head, a look of shock and pain appearing with fresh tears.

"Oh, Teddy Bear, I know, but it's a special birthday, you're fifty! You've lived twice as long as your dear mother."

The tears came harder now as she clung to him.

"Oh, Teddy Bear, fifty years! Do you know what it's like to lose your twin? Fifty years is such a long time to be alone."

Edward looked at Carla. He didn't know which was worse, still being called "Teddy Bear" at the half century mark, or having to hear the story of the missing twin once more. They weren't even identical. Carla came up and managed to pull Molly off of him. She wiped the old woman's eyes, making her blow her nose like a toddler after a tantrum. Carla smiled sweetly at her.

"Did I show you the cake Auntie? It has lovely little bears on it, just like you wanted."

Molly brightened up, and turned towards her nephew, pinching the side of his cheek.

"Nothing's too good for my little boy."

Edward gave her a tired smile, then looked out towards the throng milling about his living room. He could hear Molly's happy exclamations behind him as she saw the cake, then felt Carla's hands wrap around his waist. He looked down and kissed the top of her head. She stood on tip toe again, whispering in his ear.

"Don't worry, birthday boy. I made everyone agree to leave after two hours. My parents will take Molly to their house for the night, so we can have some alone time. I'll be able to give you your present in private."

Edward looked at his wife; she really was amazing. Not many women would be willing to accept an elderly relative into their home, especially one with such a slippery grasp on reality like Molly. He kissed Carla again, then once more, just for good measure.

"When we're alone, will we have a chance to get naked?"

That marvelous saucy grin reappeared; God, he loved to see that look on her face.

"I guess that depends on what you wish for when you blow out your candles, Teddy Bear."

Edward laughed; Molly began to laugh too, clapping her hands in delight. Edward put one arm around her, the other around Carla. The three of them walked into the living room, ready to celebrate.

Stay Out Of The Tall Grass

It wasn't the Rapture we had to worry about, it was the Raptors.

I feel so much better now.

"The time has come, the Walrus said,
to talk of many things:
Of shoes-and ships-and sealing wax-
Of cabbages and kings.
And why the sea is burning hot
and whether pigs have wings"

The Walrus and The Carpenter
Through the Looking Glass and What Alice Found There
Lewis Carroll (1871)

"If pigs had wings, they'd bump into people."

Molly looked up from the sink, her hands red from the hot water and soap. Her apron was damp from the cleaning up; as much as she loved cooking big meals, she hated washing up. Especially after a meal as disastrous as this one had been.

"Why do you say that, Lovey?"

"Because pigs are fat, and I don't think they'd be able to get high off of the ground, so they'd bump into people."

"Maybe they could squeal to let people know they were coming, so people could get out of the way."

"Maybe."

Alice's voice was dreamy and far away. She put the book down and walked over to her mother.

"Why did Daddy get so mad at dinner? I think having a new baby in the house will be fun."

Molly turned off the water and started to dry her hands and the counter with a towel. Steven had been incensed when she told him the news; he'd thrown a dish of macaroni and cheese across the room. He'd been unemployed for almost a year now; his benefits were starting to run out. Molly was supporting them on her salary; she was traveling a lot, spending too much time away from her family. She could feel Steven shutting her out, angry with her for taking his role of provider away from him. She was starting to look forward to being away from him. He'd stormed out of the house, jumping in his truck and pulling away, the back tires skidding as he drove off. She shrugged her shoulders, trying to hide her tears from her daughter.

"Well, I guess he's worried, cause he's not working, and money's tight. He's afraid he won't be able to take care of us."

Alice wrapped her arms around her mother's waist and pressed her ear against Molly's belly.

"Is it awake" she whispered.

Molly let her hand gently caress Alice's hair as she began to sway her hips back and forth.

"No, I think it's asleep."

"Is it a boy or a girl?"

Molly took a deep breath in.

"Don't know. Too early to tell."

A buzzing sound came from the pocket of Molly's jeans. She reached around and pulled her cell phone out; there was a text from Steven. She flipped it open, beginning to shake as she read the message. Tears began to splash upon Alice's head. The little girl hugged her mother tighter.

"It's ok, Mommy, don't cry. Is the text from Daddy? What did he say?"

Molly's eyes blurred as the tears began to stream from her eyes. There was just one word searing into her soul:

WHOSE?

Unconditional Surrender

Whales sing to entice a lover.

All I have are my words, clumsy attempts that never quite manage to fully express how I feel.

God forbid I allow you access to my innermost hopes and dreams. I'd sooner brandish a sword, like a lusty pirate wench, to keep you at bay.

And yet, when you sit cross legged on the floor, playing your mandolin, I want to rip apart my disguise with my bare hands, stand naked before you, and allow you to invade my most private thoughts and places.

The rain beats against the window; I light candles in case the electricity goes. They encircle the room, glowing like so many wishes just waiting to be made. I turn towards you. You've stopped playing and put your instrument aside, your arms open wide to me. I approach, silently, apprehensively, like a curious cat. You smile your crooked, goofy smile, reaching towards me. I stop in front of you, unzipping my dress, letting it fall to the ground. A bolt of lightening, the lights go out, then a marvelous crash of thunder.

Not an invasion, more like an unconditional surrender.

Hello

If you steal a loaf of bread because your children are hungry, are you a thief?

If you let a man give you money after sex so you can pay the rent, are you a whore?

There are only two things that are unforgivable in today's society; being fat or being poor.

There's a thin line between just getting by and living in your car. It doesn't take much to fall off that wire, precariously balancing between safety and disaster.

The wolf is no longer at the door; he's sitting on the couch with a bag of cookies in one paw and the remote in the other, and he's starting to get grumpy because the bag is empty and there's nothing good on tv.

She tried to shake the voices out of her head, tried to find the grace she needed to get out the door and do it all over again. It wasn't coming today. She reached for the phone, deciding to call out sick, when it began to ring. She glanced at the number (thank God for caller ID); it wasn't someone she owed money to. Shocking. It took her a minute to recognize the number; it was his cell.

Why was he calling now? She checked the clock; 7:30 am. He was in Los Angeles, it was night time there. One more ring and the call would go into voice mail, she wouldn't have to deal with his kindness. It rang; impulsively she picked it up, catching it at the last minute.

"Hello?"

"Hey, I was afraid you'd all ready left for work."

Silence. Awkward, heavy silence. She felt stupid; part of her wanted to make up an excuse to end the call, another part wanted to kick off her shoes and burrow into the couch for the next hour.

"Are you still there?"

She nodded her head, continuing to feel stupid. He can't see a nod, you idiot.

"I was just getting ready to leave."

Not a very convincing lie. More heavy silence. Should she wait for him to speak? What did he want? They hadn't resolved that question before he left.

She heard him give an exaggerated yawn. She could feel a slight jittery feeling starting to brew in her stomach. Tell him you have to go, hang up.

"I was just getting ready to leave" she repeated.

A small sigh of disappointment became audible from 3000 miles away.

"I just wanted to say hi. We haven't spoken since I left, and I realized I . . ." His voice trailed off into silence.

Say something, the voice in her head screamed! He may not call again. She started to rock back and forth.

"You just left yesterday," she managed to whisper, "You should be asleep, it must still be the middle of the night out there. Or did you just get in from a night of debauchery?"

He laughed. He had a great laugh. She could hear the apprehension melt from his voice, thought about his long,lean body stretching out on the bed. She smiled in spite of herself.

"I'm afraid my days of debauchery are long gone. Especially if I have to do them alone. I want to hit the gym before my meeting started. I thought I'd just call and say good morning."

A sense of relief began to flood her. She sat on the couch and kicked off her shoes, pulling her knees up on the cushion.

"I miss you too."