One guy just straw-stabbed and shot-gunned an entire Capri Sun in ten seconds. Another dude is sloppy swallowing cupcakes way past his personal capacity. Someone tells him he’s had enough and he throws a fit like a total baby. There’s always that certain point past which each burp threatens to become barf. Some girl dances to… Continue reading Rugrat Rager & The Half-Pint Heathens
I am a stickler for details. This is something old history professors found most impressive. Mostly everybody else finds this most obnoxious. If I was penning a paper on the origins of popular euphemisms, for instance, I would latch onto the old adage about beating a dead horse. Then I’d go out robbing equine graves. I’d… Continue reading Chain-Smoking Carnies & Bearded Ladies: A Child’s Party
“Art is not so much expressing oneself, as it is discovering oneself.” – Anawanitia An afternoon of fingers stuck and smeared in paint and other things. A true artist digs deep for inspiration, plucks a small piece from his soul and flicks it onto canvas.
I can’t believe none of you have told me to shut the pie hole and zip and then can the proverbial “it”. I suspect it’s because you’re all so nice. But as the old adage goes, nice guys finish last have to trudge through thousands of words and words and more words just to get the real, one-sentence… Continue reading 37,361 Words (Give or Take Some Thousands)
It’s Latin for “rockin’ great start to the party, y’all”. That’s paraphrased, of course, but just barely. Whatever the root and origin, the ceremony was big and festive and bright. I am waiting on a landing of a cement staircase. Hide The Bride, I think this game is called. I strain to hear the music I’m told has started. I… Continue reading Festivus Ceremonious Maximus