I was rereading old posts and liked these.
That's all.

Suzanne touched my butt and other stories of inappropriate affection

I KNOW!?!

Someone needs to talk to her about "good touch, bad touch".
Geez.
I feel like I need an adult.

In her defense, there's really not much butt left back there after spending my summer riding cross country.
(My pants WILL NOT stay up for crying out loud.)
(It's a freak show back there.)
(All crack, no ass.)
(You don't even wanna know about it.)
And, I had lept into her car to harrass her little boy, Max, before he went to soccer practive and I was, kinda, maybe, a little, sorta sitting on the Ipad.
BUT unintintentially sitting on the tiniest corner (possibly) of someones laptop is no excuse for sexual assault.
No Sir.
Not me, Not now!
Are there no rules in this country anymore?
Someone has to draw the line in the sand.
Am I right, or am I wrong on this one?

And while I'm on the subject, when did old broads get so hot?

I was just at Trader Joe's looking for an appropriate gift for the dewey breasted Frenchie across the way after she saved Mikey (twice) and there was this beautiful woman shopping the aisles wearing a flowery shawl and looking all European and oozing sex appeal what, with her long hair tied back in a sort of, "Oh, what? This ol' thing......" French braid sorta deal
(pulls pin from hair, shakes head as hair falls seductively over eyes, removes glass as she begins moving forward)
(Cue: Naughty Librarian Fantasy #4)
But the thing is, when I looked closer I realized she was probably late fifties if not older.
But Hot.
WTF!?!

This is unacceptable.
I can't be walking around town thinking someones grandmother is hot.
That is just plain wrong.
Wrong, wrong, wrong, my friends.
Wrong and not right.

My penis and I are both very confused right now.
Confused, hurt, angry, and a little turned on.



(Yeah. Live with that.)

Friday, September 28, 2012

The Return of High School Sweetheart Fred!

High School Sweetheart Fred has left a new comment on your post "Since I've been home...":

I know this poet.
(That's me she's referring to.)
(lil ol me!)

You have a poets heart and a pirates mouth. You are amazing and ornery. You are sweet and full of shit as well. So glad you had this experience. It's always been a part of you. Now it's just out there for the rest of us to see and you to reflect upon.
Love you old friend.













Wednesday, August 15, 2012


Since I've been home...I've been missing you.
The long road stretching out in front of me;
ribbons of highway rolling underneath my feet.
The sensation of movement hasn't stopped,
and in my mind I can still feel the wind,
the sun on my face,
the clutch gripped in my hand.
The pressure on my chest of the passing wind
pushing me against my pack of clothes
held with knots, and hope;
I still see you from the limestone cuts in west Texas,
from the redwood shadows in California
those beautiful curves, perilously carved against the ocean;
How you run
out into the nights of New Mexico.
How you shook me like a child's toy
until I believed you were alive and unruly
and contrary,
like me.
How you wrapped your arms around me again
and again,
on the west coast
until I knew you were alive and unruly
and contrary,
like me.