Tag: writing

Talk To The Hand That Rocks The Cradle

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A Hands on evolution

Get your hand off my ass
Heard someone talking about a dude the other day and she called him a, “Hands on Dad.” Now if I heard that 20 years ago I would have thought, Damn that’s cool, it’s really good to see a father get involved with their kids. But today an involved father seems to be the norm, not the exception. Today most fathers are hands on, changing diapers, feeding, taking turns getting up, and then as they grow older sharing the responsibility of taking them to school, the doc, parks, playgrounds, sports, or whatever it is the children choose to be involved in.
I was a child in the 60’s and we had hands on dads back then too. They put their hands on our asses when they spanked us, slapped their hands on our wrists to get our attention, and slapped our heads and told us to “Wake Up! They were away all day long and according to Mom spent most of that time thinking of new ways to dispense disciplinary actions. “Wait till your father get home.“
Something to fear! It never worked cause frankly we didn’t give a shit. The old man came home with a headache, had a drink, and by the time he got around to us all he could muster was slurring a lecture. He only became hands on when he was pissed, like if I accidentally moved the wood he was hammering when I attempted to help him. So unless dad was in one of those foul work sucked kind of moods it was relatively safe. Keep an eye out until Mom trudged into the kitchen. That meant she was preparing our dinner which was served everyday at the exact same time. That meant it was an hour until Dad gets home. Same routine, and if he pounded down his scotch in one gulp that’s when I headed for the hills. Otherwise, just wait for the talking too. It was like I was living in an episode of Leave it To Beaver and Ward was gonna sit me down.
Nighttime was a different story. I have 5 brothers and we lived in the upstairs portion of the house. 5 kids in two rooms. It was like they were raising a hockey team. Being the youngest boy I received most of the body checks and eye gouges. 5 minutes for fighting,? More like 5 minutes for NOT fighting. Needless to say we made a lot of noise which disturbed my mom and dad.
The primary method of corralling us was to send up Dad. He would sit us down like a coach. “Come on fella’s, your mom and I both have headaches. You guys are making too much noise and you need to calm down and stop making so much noise.” Another ten minute of heart to heart pep talk then down he went. Worked like a charm. For ten minutes. Then it was time to resume the games! Laughing and yelling even louder and waging major battles ending up in pile ups with your truly screaming from the bottom. It must have sounded like we were moving the furniture. Okay not the best analogy but it was LOUD! Anyway all fun and games until we heard that shrill sound that sent fear coursing through our collective souls and had us scattering for cover. MOM!
The words in that sound determined how bad the violation was, and what extent of Moms brand of reckoning we would receive. If it was our names it wouldn’t be too bad, middle names trouble, but the absolute worst was “GOD DAMN IT!” Holy fuck she cursed! The angry, wait, no fuming, no, wait, lividly furious voice followed by extremely loud and deliberate foot pounding up the stairs. The closer the sound the deeper the fear. “Didn’t Dad tell you boys to knock it off?” We scrambled like hell to find a hiding spot because Mom was about to unleash a fury of hurt on whoever got nabbed first. Not only a hands on Dad, we had a Hands on Mom!
Hands is an interpretive word here. It wasn’t always her hand that caused us to shit pieces of dried mortar it was what was IN her hands. A wooden spoon, a belt, a shoe, a ruler, whatever was nearest to her that could be used as a weapon and inflict the maximus pain to the gluteus. Mom had an arsenal of weapons of ass destruction with frightening accuracy and was not afraid to use them. Being the smallest I was either caught first or thrown to the wolf more often than not. Mom would wail all her anger leaving welts on my ass. Today, child services would be buried under a month of paperwork after just one visit with my Mom. Today the neighbors would report blood curdling screams to 911. But I tell you what, I grew up having mad respect for her, for women, and for people in general. I don’t advocate violence, but it worked on me. I’m a better person because of Mom, welts and all.
People like to say it was a different time and of course it was. Innocence sure! But easier, no fucking way. Easier than parenting during the depression? Yes. Easier than parenting during the pioneering era? Sure. But easier than today? NO! Raising kids today is a seriously complex operation. Tons of literature assuring them how much harm they inflict on their kids ids and egos. Foods that will destroy their health, actions that will deplete their self esteem, all kinds of advice based on creating paranoia of failing as a parent. Parents can’t just raise kids today they need to have every technologic advantage and informed study before they even leave the hospital. Even the god damn strollers are high tech! Its gotta be really hard to raise kids today with everyone judging every action you take as a parent, so no not easy, only different.
My parents were pioneers of suburbia, and middle class America. We had one TV and we all watched whatever Mom decided on. Mom never worked. Well not unless you mean hard work. She cleaned, ironed, cooked, dressed us kids, and kept everything together with the minimum accessories. When we got an electric dishwasher the neighbors came over to see it like it was a new car or something. Another thing there was only one of. Not complaining or comparing, that’s just how shit was then. A dishwasher was a modern appliance. It was a birthday present for mom. What would happen if my son gave his wife an appliance for her birthday? Hope he never finds out, but my mom was happy about it.
When my brothers and I grew up we attempted to make good on our promises to never treat our kids the way we were treated. That meant reason over violence, sparing the rod TO save the child. Giving the kids everything we could. On the outside it was brilliant. But somewhere along the line something went wrong. We got too soft on the kids. When I played sports as a kid you picked teams and the shitty players always got picked last but that was okay. They understood that they sucked but we let them play because they were our friends. And if you lost you sucked it up and congratulated the asshole winners. We called them all kinds of shit in a whisper, but we lost and that was that. If we won we didn’t rub in their faces and get all chest puffed about it, we shook hands and called them losers in private. Respect! Once we got older it meant the losers had to pay for the beers. We snickered in silence, not up in their faces.
I was watching a group of kids playing Tee ball. WTF? Swing and miss bitches that how life works. If you can’t hit the ball become a musician, or an artist, or a fucking brainiac. No shame, sports isn’t everything. At least it wasn’t, it used to be about fun. Watching the fat kid strike out every time amused us. But then I hear one of the guys, a coach of some sort yelling, “Lets go kids, remember, everyone wins.” WTF I mean WTF-ing F!!! Everyone wins? Oh no please, don’t tell them that! Someone loses. There is always a loser, that’s the whole point of sports, one wins the other loses. I watched the superbowl. The whats their names won and the other guys lost, Okay, I didn’t watch the last superbowl but I’ve seen them before and let me tell you, one team lost. You could tell which just by looking at their faces.
It’ called disappointment and trust me, it’s a fact of life. My Mom prepared me for disappointment. I prepared my kids for disappointment. I didn’t set them up to fail, but to succeed. Because sometimes we fail, and when you fail you suck it up, learn from it, get over it, and move the fuck on. Being hands on is not the same thing as being a friend, that comes later. When my son was little I was his parent, now I’m his friend. Now he’s parent and when his kids grow up he will be their friends as well. He’s a pretty good parent too, and he makes mistake just like I id, just like my Dad did, and all the way back. My son has two little girls and teaches them golf, (I know, right??) takes them al over. He changed their diapers, helped feed them, and now he spends most of his free time with them. And even though he lets them fail sometimes people still describe him as a Hands on Dad!…………….PEACE

The Seven Deadly Dwarfs

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The Sins Of The Son Are The Sins That Go Farther

Sins! Oh sweet Mama are we all guilty of sins. I even remember the righteous Jimmy Swaggart crying “I have sinned” although I suspect the tears were because he was caught. Who among us has not sinned? Personally I will cop to multiple sinning that may borer on serial or pathologic qualification. The degree of sins I have committed has allegedly assured me a special place in hell. Allegedly!! By that I mean if there is a hell and if so then it also contains special places. When I think about it, which honestly isn’t often, hell couldn’t be as bad as those sanctimonious truth babblers would have me believe. I mean shit, when I die they tell me I have a choice of only two places, heaven or hell. That’s all the options I get. In heaven I get to sit by the throne of the almighty. No TV, no music, (except some mind numbing harp strumming by Angels), no board games, nothing! Jut sit by the throne with a bunch of goody-goods twittling thumbs. Can’t even think about the fun shit like sex and….well sex. In that case heaven is a place to go to get bored to insanity. Not this boy, I plan to fly over the cuckoo’s nest. Or if Hell is where they say it is then under it. Put me on that elevator straight to hell. Let me live out my days being naked, roasting marshmallows, and sinning like the devil with a shitload of other sinners. A place where sex, drugs, and rock and roll are not only encouraged, but required. Daily entertainment!
So what makes a sin a sin anyway? Who decided what was okay and what was not? How in the hell did someone come up with The Seven Deadly sins? I know what you think, I’m about to start bashing the cross waving holier than thou Christians again, but nope. Uh uh, not this time. This time I point the finger at The Brothers Grimm. In 1812 they took these fire and brimstone causing seven sins to a new level. Whats worse their partner in perpetuation Walt Disney himself injected subliminally into the mainstream. Yup, today I blame this shit on Snow White.
Seven dwarfs and seven deadly sins! Coincidence? Hardly! Each one of those diminutive diamond mining denizens represent a sin. And the true tales are full of drugs and parties and enough sex to make the entire population of munchkins giggle with delight. Not convinced yet? Well then allow me to break this shit down!
Wrath. The sin of rage and uncontrollable anger. Why so angry? Well Plick was cut off. One fateful day in the diamond mine he attempted to steal some diamonds by swallowing them. He was caught, and the others had a group meeting an agreed that this dwarf was banned from alcohol, weed and coke for six months. Even the lady dwarfs denied him sex. Not only that, he still had to shit out the diamonds without any painkillers. You’d be Grumpy too!
Sloth. The sin of laziness. If that’s true I am one major sinning son of a bitch sinner because I have a masters degree in procrastination. But back to the dwarfs. In the bed next to Grumpy slept Perzlebaum. Perzlebaum was very clever and the first to realize that he had access to Grumpy’s banned stash. Purzle drank so much whisky and puffed up so much weed he passed out. Fuckin’ Perzle slept for three days straight and it caused permanent dammage to his orbital muscles. With his constantly drooping eyes, he earned the name Sleepy.
Lust. The sin of intense desire. Packe was also somewhat of an opportunistic party hound and noticed the lady dwarfs shunning his buddy. Packe woke up each day with that male teenage bane, morning wood. At firt he took matters into his own hand, but then the idea came. Grumpys ladies will be lonely. Oh he satisfied his normal urges at night in the dwarf bars, but now after 4AM he also prowled the lonely of the night that had once been busy with Grumpy. He engaged in sexual trysts on a scale of many a mans fantasy, sometimes having as many as four ladies a night. He even started experimenting with trans gender dwarfs He became an orgasm addict. Poor Packe fucked himself silly. Literally! He fucked his own brains out. He is still off balance and to this day still known as Dopey.
Envy.The sin of jealousy. Now comes Huckepack. He was once considered somewhat of a dwarf ladies man, a playa amongst playa’s. But he noticed how easily Dopey was getting laid and it bothered him. Huckepack wanted a piece of the action and not just the plain looking ones, he wanted to go after the super hot little juicy fruits. When he finally did score the dwarfette of his dreams he was stoked. No, not stroked you pervert, stoked! Once in the bedroom he was over excited, and he stripped immediately. He had not taken into account that he had just returned from swimming. Uh huh, shrinkage! Juicy fruits eyes went directly to his compromised dwarf hood. One look at his shrunken treasure and his naked conquest let out an emasculating giggle. She then said to him “Who are you expecting to please with that tiny thing?” Embarrased and angry Huckepack looked at her horrified sreaming “ME BITCH!” But it was not a save. She hit him below the belt and his confidence was rocked to all hell. He grabbed his clothes and ran out in tears of shame. He never worked up the nerve (Thats not a euphanism) to talk to her or any other women ever again. He was labeled Bahsful.
Pride. The sin of self indulgance. Many consider this to be the worst, holding ones own esteem so much higher than everyone else’s. My oldest brother is like that, always better than the ret of us. I’m sure he’s somewhere looking down on us all right now. He’s not dead, he’s just a condescending ass. But this is the story of Rumplebold. This young dwarf was quite enterprising. His biggest problem was he believed he deserved the best of everything. He was entitles to everything that the dwarfs had and then some. With the others using up all of Grumpy’s weed and whisky it was Rumplebold who deserved the most expensive part of the stash. At least he thought he did so he confiscated the entire cache of Grumpy’s cocaine and went to town. Rumple did lines of coke everywhere he went and all day and night. He was wired to the max. He tried to hide it from the others, but it was impossible. Dude was sneezing white power from his nose regularly. There was so much blow up his nostrils he couldn’t stop sneezing. Yup, Sneezy.
Gluttony. The sin of over-consumption. Ah yea, too much of everything, no moderation what so ever. This has to be Puck. Puck may have been the cleverest of all seven. Puck knew just what he wanted. Everything! And lots of it. What made him clever was knowing how to take what he desired without raising awareness. He was slick and had an ample supply of whisky, weed, and women. His big problem was munchies. He was the one who did the weekly food shopping and always went right after puffing a fatty. The others never even knew that he bought and stashed boxes of ring dings,ho-ho’s and double stuffed oreo’s. Ate himself silly. He became fat and jolly. Oh yea, he was one happy Puck. Always smiling, always laughing, always…..Happy.
Greed. The sin of material pursuit. This brings us around to our last dwarf, Naseweis. Ole Nasy was greedy from the start. He wanted flat screens, and smartphones, designer clothes, expensive jewelry, and a Bentley to take into LA to shop at Rodeo Drive. He had a hunger for living in the material world and wanted a material girl. Maybe even shag Madonna. But how could he afford all these things? An idea struck him. He went online and bought a fake doctorate from WebMD and began selling scripts to the other six. It’s rumored he even sold a script for Propranol to the wicked witch. No matter, he recognized the weaknesses in all of us and exploited it as a doctor. Even though it was fake it worked, and they all go to “Doc” when they want vial of feel good.
So that’s it. That’s why I blame these fictional characters for creating the seven deadly sins. I’m calling them out. Who knows, maybe it will even start a whole new religion. Or at least a sect. The Seventh Sin Adventists or something. We can be known as Dwarfies. We will pray for illicit happenings, sing about sinful exploits, and even approve same sect marriage. Maybe I’ll even get my own compound out of the deal. We’ll lock ourselves in and commit every sin possible. You can come and join if you want, all sinners no saints! Just remember, I am a shameless sinner, so if I do offer you some Kool Aid, make sure it’s the electric kind. Have a nice trip……PEACE

The First Books Of The Cold Testament

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There Aughta be a Law
So now the scene was set for the so called “Old Testament” to branch out in different area’s. This is where it gets kinda murky with a few different accounts of what happened next. But like an automobile accident, everyone swears that their story is the (Insert name of favorite Creator)‘s honest truth, and of course the truth will set you free. Or will it? The Roamings chose to be monotheist and worshipped God as told by Abraham, the Muscle’ems also monotheist but called their god Allah. Mosey led the remaining suffering juice into their holy land insisting to them all that they were the chosen ones. But chosen by whom and for what? The adventure begins
Mosey decides he should clear up the laws for the Juice in their long bloody trek to the promised land so he began writing his fifth book. He had already written four others. His first was titled Genesis, and it was about how things began according to the disciples, Peter, Gabriel, Phil, and Collins (not Tom Collins, the other one). His second work of fiction was called “Exodus” and it was based on a song by Bob Marley. (easy on the ganja next time Mosey) His third book was a math book he called simply “Numbers” and his fourth a short story about the maker of blue jeans which he called “Levi-ticus. The working title of his fifth and final book was “ Dude-a-Ramen Noodle” but that may change due to Ron or me. It’s main purpose will be to set all the laws required to become the chosen ones, the real Juice. During the years they wandered in search of the real estate they were promised Mosey made up those laws. He created dietary laws, (pissed off the pig farmers) sexual laws, laws of marriage, laws for religious festivals and ceremonies, and the most important law of all. The mother of all Mitzvah laws. The law insisting that every family has a no holds barred all out extravagant party their children when they reach the age of 12 or 13. (boys take longer to mature).
But first things first, on to the promise land. Mosey surveyed his able body men and decided to make Joshua his general. Joshua was a strong and smart man who was once the world wrestling federation champ. He had also trained at Far West Point, the highly regarded Ninja military school run by Genghis Kahn. Joshua began getting his troops in shape with exercises and combat training games. In two short months he had a formidable assembly of fine tuned fighting machines. And good thing too because it wasn’t long until the first battle.
In their quest to take the promise land they came upon a mighty river they needed to cross in order to proceed. Mosey had been told by Yehaw that he was not to cross the river, but to allow Joshua to take over and lead his people. His task was complete and it was time for him to pack it in, to buy the farm He had to die. After all, it had been a great 4,000 years and he was losing his hair, bladder control, and the arthritis was getting too painful. So here it was that instead of a sea parting, it was Mosey and Joshua. “Josh my friend, our years together have at last come to an end. I leave it up to you to lead our people into the promised land. Just promise me that when you do you play nice with the neighbors.” Joshua smiled and shook his head while he place his hand behind his back and crossed his fingers. “I promise you dear friend Mosey, I will lead our people into the promised land and treat our neighbors like they were family.” With that, Mosey went off to die peacefully and Joshua uncrossed his fingers, smiled, and mumbled to himself, “Like the abusive family that fucking abandoned me, hehehe.”

GODSEX SAVES (From plague to pleasure)

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“I’ll have her screaming Oh My Fucking Mortal that felt good”
Sacrificing became the norm. They sacrificed everything assuming the gods must be hungry and too lazy to cook. Some asshole started thinking maybe the gods aren’t hungry, maybe they’re horny. They began sacrificing the young women . Oh please!? Like a god could create all kinds of catastrophic events but was incapable of getting laid? What the fuck were they thinking? But sacrifice the young maidens they did. They also began talking to the gods and even singing songs to them. Another very curious habit had begun. Instead of leaving the bodies to decay and replenish Garden Earth they began to bury the bodies. What?? It really confused Cosmo. What was the point of putting the bodies underground? They collectively decided that there was an afterlife and didn’t want their people to be all chewed up and maggoty when they arrived there. Soon religions were popping up left and right, with all kinds of crazy rules and the most bizarre fashion statements ever! What in the bottomless pit of fire are they putting on their heads? Tall hats, pointy hats, skullcaps, and one religion put some weird little place mat over the bald spots at the back of their heads. One of Cosmo’s favorite practical joke were to make his men people lose the hair on their heads, only to find it coming out of their ears an noses. And they were covering up the spots of skin that earned him so much props when talked about at inter-galactic bars. All in all it the most curious new trait of his youmans was when they began to display compassion for the dead. They mourned them an adorned them, wrapped them and boxed them, then covered them in dirt or hid them from sight. They were moving away from animism and the use of collective conscience. Major cultural shifts had taken place and it seemed to be virtually simultaneous throughout the garden. Things were getting out of control, and some crazy shit started happening that had all of them fearing their respective gods.
It was around that time when some really bad and unexplainable shit went down. In the future they would be known as the “Great Plagues” and written down in books as the truth. At first Cosmo did not think much of it but soon he had become suspicious that someone was sabotaging his planet. It started near the big river in the middle east section of Europe in The May Anne Curl Crescent. ( No doubt if Freud had been alive he would have assigned the likeness of the crescent to an entirely different area of Mary Anne’s body. Perhaps that was what truly made it fertile?!). Somehow a large section of the Denial River turned all red with some foreign substance similar to blood. It killed all the fish and aquatic life in the area and poisoned the water. Fish and chips were the main diet staple around the river and many got sick form eating spoiled fish out of desperation. Others refused to eat the tainted sea morals and were starving to death. Curious it was, but it wasn’t until a while afterward when that populated area became absolutely overrun by frogs. It was then that Cosmo remembered the Tribble story. Hiss first impulse was a little joke played on him by the goddess Lucille. “I’m surprised at Lucy. These aren’t cute furry little things these are gross and causing all sorts of warts and boils on my you mans. Lucy…..you got some splainin’ to do!” He called his friend Lucille but she denied having anything to do with it. She ha once played a joke on mmmmm in the nnnnn galaxy that got out of hand. Friggen Tribbles everywhere! She swore it wasn’t her and promised to come by in a day and have a look. Time for Cosmo to straighten up his god pad , he would be entertaining a lady god friend. He cleaned up his bachelor pad and stocked his cabinets with food, god beer, and of course some Meade Plus.
Lucille was perhaps the most beautiful of all the goddesses. She had huge inviting eyes and an almost perfectly round face that adorned smooth white and flawless skin. High cheekbones and huge ebony black eyes gave her a cosmically refined appearance. Her hair was her most recognizable trait. It was bright crimson red, thick and full with large interloping banana curls that danced around her pretty face. An unusually tall goddess she carried her frame effortlessly on extremely muscular and exquisitely long legs that she was more than proud to display in tight fitted sexy split skirts. Always in heels she was a vision of beauty that would have driven any of Cosmos man people to Light-years of insanity, and beyond. A curvy torso without a trace of fat and what could be described accurately as a “treasure” chest made Lucy one of if not the most desired goddess in the universes. But the thing Cosmo loved most above all was her witty and engaging personality. She commanded attention whenever she spoke and had the sharpest wit of anyone Cosmo knew. Cosmo was as nervous as a schoolchild and began to stutter the moment she walked in. “Great sa-sa-singularity you are a vi-vision of beauty.” Lucille shook her head and smiled, “Relax Coz, I’m not here as a conquest I’m here as a friend. But you never know what may happen. Its been a millennium since I’ve been ridden by a god of your intoxicating love skills. Lets have us a drink first and see if we can get your frog infestation toad away.” The glint in her eye assured him the pun was intended and Cosmo chuckled nervously. “Its been quite a while for me as well Luce.” His nervousness was exiting and confidence making a triumphant return. “I’m not sure if I have what it takes to please you lovely Lucille but I would hop, skip, and jump a chance bring you over your limit.” Cosmo gave an enticing wink and Lucille gave a shudder of anticipation. “And I’ll deflate that bulge you have that call my name. But first, lets have that drink and get this ugly plague business out of the way. Tt had gotten much worse than just blood in the water. Frogs! Cosmo updated her on his situation, “The frogs have caused contagious welts and boils and brought about a plague of lice, gnats, and millions of grasshoppers.” Lucille showed a look of real concern. “Contagions are not usually Botchiegalloup’s MO, but everything else sounds like it could be his dirty work. Let me help you clean it up. I’ll start with those insects. They aren’t grasshoppers but locusts. That’s an all out plague of locust too. Locust are even worse than grasshoppers. They have an appetite equal to your sex drive” Lucille glanced at Cosmo’s bulge again and her eyes glittered a rainbow of prism that sent Goosebumps up his thighs right to his scrotal sac. His bulge tried even harder to stand at attention and he knew he would be working through the night and possibly into the morning in his multiple attempts to give Lucille coital satisfactions. The smile she flashed him let him know it would not be all work on his part. Well not literally anyway. “They’ll eat any and all fauna you have in your garden. Ever since that Triible prank Spock and I have been working on infestation control. We used this to control a precious mouse problem Simon had in the Hobbit Shire. A few sprays of Sauron gas will do the trick but the bigger issue is finding out who did this to you.“. Another playful grin. “I expect to be played like a grand piano tonight maestro.” With the grace of a butterfly Lucille flapped two winglets and the wind it created spread the Sauron gas to the effected areas. This simple flapping of butterfly wings set off a series of events that destroyed the locust, the frogs, washed the blood from the Nile and created a severe weather pattern that would one day become known as El Nino. When she turned to look at Cosmo her hair lit up a neon red and her eyes glowed a fluorescent black signaling she was ready for the intimated romp in the clouds. Satisfying a goddess was beyond the typical gods payscale but Cosmo had an unusual eagerness to satisfy which left him quite in demand with the goddesses all over. Cosmo was obligated now to work all night and give it the old college try. If any god could bring about a climax to a goddess it would be Cosmo.
So another evening of bliss was staring Cosmo in the eye and he was up to the task. He applied many of his skillful tricks and spent nearly five hours pleasuring the beautiful Lucile who squirmed with delight. She squealed like as if she had just won the happiest labia lottery. But she had still not climaxed fully and Cosmo was losing stamina. It was time for Cosmo to insert his secret weapon. Literally. He positioned his head at a right angle directly below the clitoral forest and his tongue sprouted from between his lips to deliver the orgasm inducing move. This was Cosmos signature sex move and never failed on non gods. But this was Lucille, and he would need to add all the extra umphh a god can muster. The point of Cosmos tongue entered the love canal with the force of a dragon in heat. He twisted it and twirled it getting it soaking wet and ready. Now for the big move. Cosmo laid her back, spread her legs with her feet pointing a perfect 10 towards the ceiling and poised his raging god hard on at the center of Lucille’s G spot. Then the move. A one and a half triple ollie over the vulva godlever with a quadruple insertion propelled thumper followed by a triplespin. And he stuck the landing! Man oh man did he stick the landing as everyone in garden earth must have feared the most fierce lightning and thunder storm in its history. Her climaxing wail sent vibrations clear across the planet and the spark from her freshly satiated eyes lit up the darkest crevices of the thickest jungles. Tsunamis tsunamied, hurricanes hurricaned, and it shook the cones from all the conifers in the world. If there had been life on Mars it would have stood up and applauded. Lucile had come and an left no doubt about it! After several minutes of satiated heavy breathing which caused gale force winds on earth she began her attempt to repay the salacious favor. She reached between his legs, directed the throbbing divining rod between her pulsating thighs and drew him back inside for the ride of his life. The two went at it for nearly two earth days straight exchanging climax with climax in a feat unequaled by any other. They were the Pyramus and Thisbe of District 7 and one of the few pairings of god and goddess that were able to satisfy each other so completely. They lay wrapped in each others arms long after their sexual urges had been completely eliminated. Exhausted both it was Cosmo that finally found enough strength to talk. “Sweet Amphion you were as incredible as ever sweet Lucy. I can’t remember a time I have ever felt so fucking good.” Lucile smiled a freshly fornicated smile. “You tease Como, but I like it. And you have come up with some new moves I see. You should have that thing copyrighted! I can’t say I ever experienced anything quite like it.” Cosmo blushed as he had indeed learned a few new “tricks”. He too however was satisfied beyond his expectation and could do little more than smile. The two lay in bed and drifted off to sleep after checking that the Sauron gas was working.
Cosmo was thrown off the bed and ripped from the hugging arms of deep sleep by a strange noise. A loud rapping of millions of clacking surfaces like a ton of marbles ha been thrown in the room. Clickety clack, clackety click louder an louder. Cosmo leapt to his feet with a confused “What the Fuck!” He peered out through the window and saw that his garden was literally under attack by a giant all encompassing hail storm. He jumped into action and was able to stop the storm immediately but much damage had already occurred. Many of his creatures, youmans included had been killed and a lot of crops had been decimated. The damage was everywhere. “Athos Damn it to eternal nebula!” Lucy was up and wide awake as well and surveyed the situation. “Holy fuck Cosmo, this is really messed up. Someone is really screwing with your garden and shows nary a sign of stopping. You’ve gotta get to the bottom of this and put this shit to an end.” Cosmo was near tears and in a barely audible voice aid, “Yea, no shit. This is totally fucked up Lucy.” Hailstones the size of not yet invented volleyballs were pounding the earth. The Ice Age had begun while the couple slept in post coital bliss! On the plus side it killed all the pests.

Baby Baby, Where Did Our Love Go?

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This is a very serious and sad excerpt of a story mostly funny. It’s a peek into the dark side of my hero’s sad life
You’re Cheatin’ Heart
Kayla was sound asleep, and on any other night I would have been asleep too, knowing Tina would come home after she was done with her shift. First maybe have a drink or two before coming home. I worked in many a restaurant and a few shots after service was common. But this wasn’t any other night. This was the night I was confronting Tina. I had been relatively certain she had been cheating on me, but now I had some hard to dispute evidence. Her best friend and normal excuse for being late called looking for Tina a few hours ago, and on the counter sat a receipt signed by her from the Miller Edge Motor Inn. I laid in wait in the darkness as my anger percolated. When I heard her car pull up a rush of adrenaline churned in my gut then gathered in my head. I was shaking. This was it!
The second she walked through the door my fears were confirmed. Her face wore an all telling satisfied smile. The kind of smile I remembered seeing so often after our nights at the Jade Feather before we were married. That freshly laid smile. It cut deep into my heart. Here it goes. “So where ya been babe?” Tina was startled, caught off guard not expecting me to be awake. I could feel the nervousness in her lie. “Oh, Joanne and I stopped of for a drink and it turned into 4 or five. We had some late customers and Jo and Jacob are having problems again.” I took a deep breath, anger growing by the second. “That’s really odd because Joanne called about two hours ago to remind you that you promised to cover her shift tomorrow.” The silence sat for an extremely uneasy four seconds as Tina began to attempt a backtrack. “Oh, did I say Joanne, I meant” I cut her off instantly” Stop the bullshit Tina! Stop it right now. You weren’t with Joanne or any other work friend. But I think I can guess where you were. More than likely at the Millers Edge Inn. It seems like that’s where you like to go, at least according to that receipt that was in your coat pocket.” I held the receipt out tyo her in a shakey hand. My body responding involuntarily to the ssour mix of anger, nervousness, and anxiety. She just stared, eyes wider than I thought possible. Busted! She had nowhere to take it. She looked down at the floor. Her face was flushed blueish red from the guilt and the sex drugs and alcohol that were more than likely involved. She raised her head, eyes now pathetic an pooling up with tears. At the same time they were profoundly sad eyes. It must have taken all she had to issue a sad mumble of “I-I’m sorry JT. I’m so so sorry.” A sniffle for an exclamation point.
“You’re sorry? Sorry about what Tina? Sorry that you’ve been fucking somebody behind my back or sorry you got caught?” My face must have been bright crimson red because I could feel rivulets of livid red blood cells swirling around my face. I wasn’t done yet. “ I have been faithful, all the time faithful. We had a fucking pact Tina, we’ve both been fucked over before and swore we would never o that to each other.“ The next question asked itself because I son’t remember thinking it. Who is it? Who are you sleeping with? Someone from the kitchen? A waiter? Who the hell are you fucking?” She paid no attention to the fact that it was more a demand than a question, Through her tears she softly asked, “JT please, does it really matter?” Actually a fair question but for some reason I felt I had to know. “It makes a difference to me, Tina, me your husband. You‘re partner for life!!” Tina looked up at me and streams of tear had begun sliding down her cheeks. “Please JT, don’t make me, it isn’t important. I ssis it and I’m sorry. I don’t know what you want me to say.” Head still burning hot with anger my voice was getting a bit too loud. “I’ll tell you what I want you to say, I want you to say it didn’t happen. But it’s too late for that now isn’t it Tina. So I guess I’ll just have to settle on knowing who it is I can blame for ruining my life.” My sarcastic tone was over the top and I regretted the moment I used it, but fuck man, I was pissed! She looked at me defiantly and just spat out his name. “Johnny” A Louisville Slugger of shock cracked me dead in the temple. Sent resounding waves of disbelief across my skull. My head throbbed with a combination of bewilderment and almost uncontrollable anger. Johnny?! Fucking Johnny boy, the love of her life before we started dating. The very dude I had taken her from, who abused her, calledd her names, and cheated on her right under her nose!. The mother fucker she cried to me about for weeks after they broke up. The piece of shit that treated her like dirt for years. I couldn’t breathe. I was aware of how loud it had gotten and didn‘t want Kayla to wake up. Choked with incredulousness my voice sounded squeezed .“Johnny. You mean Johnny boy the fuckhead that you hate? That fucking Johnny? I can’t believe this! How the fuck did this happen?” Now her tears were in full flight and forcing their way through her finger. Tina was shaking visibly and breathing in uneven pants. “It doesn’t matter.” Fury was at an all time high. “Stop saying it doesn’t matter. It does matter. It really does fucking matter!”
After a deluge of wet sobs Tina attempted to explain herself. “I went out for a drink with the girls after work last week and Johnny was there. He came over and we started talking. Just talking, nothing else. He wanted to tell me how sorry he was and wanted to be friends again, we had a few drinks, one thing led to another and I-I don’t know. It just happened.” I was still in stun mode and the anger needed to escape in the worst way. “It just happened?” I was pissed and I could hear Tina sobbing heavily. “Something like that doesn’t just happen Tina. That’s bullshit. You have to know that something might happen. You say to yourself, this is a bad situation, this is wrong. This asshole fucked me over an now I’m talking to him. I can’t do this cuz I’m married. I’m happily married and….” The Louisville Slugger struck again, this time filled with reality. “Wait! Shit! Oh my godd no!? Oh no no no. Oh shit Tina. You’re not happy are you!? You were hoping. Oh Jeu god you were looking for someone or something that would free you out of ….of life with me. An unhappy like with me! What about Kayla? Are you unhappy about Kayla too?” Now Tina’s face looked distorted. The sockets of her eyes were sunken and wrinkled, deep reddish brown from so much rubbing, Soaked through and through from an all out cry. Every pore of her face looked sad and defeated. He looked old to me for the first time. Oh my fucking god id she hate me that much? I was consumed by a combination of anger, betrayal, guilt, sadness and deep self loathing. My old pal, the demon of self hate. How I hated myself so back a few years. Back when I told Carrie about my theory that everyone that gets to know me either dies or leaves. That’s probably why I got so fucked up all the time, did so many drugs. Fuck man, even I couldn’t stand being near myself. Why should Tina feel any different. The years of confidence building collapsed in a single instant. I was crushed and beginning to understand it was my fault. But Tina was clearly blaming herself too. Neither of us were able to talk. All we could do was shake and cry and sniffle. How did it come to this? I poured myself a huge glass of straight vodka from the freezer. It was half gone in a matter of seconds, and being a half empty type of guy at this moment I filled back up, then emptied it.
We sat in silence for about ten minutes until Tina found the courage to talk. “Now what JT? Where so we go from here?” I thought for a few seconds, said ”I don’t know Tee, I just don’t know.” My voice had taken on an eerie even tone and I almost didn’t recognize it. “I think I need to go home to Centerlawn and think things through. And I think you need to think too. I guess we both need to figure out what we want. But I guess this is over” Surprisingly Solomonic. Tina just stared at me with a profound sorrow in her eyes so deep it made her look totally detached from life. “I am so so sorry JT. Its all my fault. I don’t even no where to begin.” I put my finger up to her lips, “Shh, there plenty of blame to go around. I’ve been so consumed with work and, fuck man I don’t know what. I-I just never saw this coming. We both fucked up. Maybe we should never have been, I don’t kmow. Like I said, I need to think shit through. I gotta split. I’m going home to my Moms, I need to think. I’ll be back to see Kayla after work tomorrow.” I pounded down another glass of vodka and took what was left of the bottle. I could hear Tina sobbing loudly in the background as I walked out the door. I took one last look at our home, our once happy home and could see Kayla’s window. Her parents had just become the monsters under her bed. I thought about Kayla and broke down and cried again. Not a soft cry, not even a cry like I had when my brother James died. This was a deep guttural cry with an ugly darkness. I have lost Tina, I lost my dignity, and worst of all I lost Kayla. All in the blink of an eye. I blew Kayla’s window a kiss through my tears, wiped off my soaked cheeks and took a seep breath. I got in my car and left. I wondered if I was ever coming back.

Some have a way with words, others say &#@K it

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What Are Words For?
Freedom Of Speech Is Accompanied With The Responsibility To Listen

Words. Play on words, word to my Mom, word on the street, word of honor, big words, small words, funny words, all kinds of words. That’s why most of us are here on WordPress! We write because we are passionate about words. I love words. I use words. Sometimes I even eat my words. (a good reason to sugar coat my words). Words have gotten me into passionate situations. Words exercise my vocal chords keeping them in shape so they can get loud during conjugal episodes. My words come out of my mouth faster than a horny bumble bee on Viagra during sex. Well if its good sex that is. (mine, not the bumble bee’s). Words convey my thoughts. Words are thoughts with the speakers turned up high. Words are words whether your like it or not.
We all use them. They express, teach, and communicate. They frighten, warn, and ease the pain. They have unending uses. When used correctly they can coax feelings of euphoria, send you into a panic, or make you feel like shit. What they don’t do is offend! Oh I hear ya, people can say some real mean shit and you get pissed, even offended. But its not the words that did that, it was the person that used them. Words aren’t hurtful it’s the intent behind them that aches.
I don’t speak French but I worked in a French restaurant. While I couldn’t tell what the chef was yelling at me I got the gist of it. Oddly the words themselves sounded beautiful. French is definitely the nicest language to get bitched out in. And that my friend is no merde. (that means shit, I learned quick)
Shit, a good place to start, because the specific words I want to focus on are the PROFANE words. What makes a word profane? If you are offended by profanity than you should just get the fuck out now because Ima bought to let the shit fly here.
Words do not offend me because I understand they are merely words. When I was very young I said shit at the dinner table and my Mom dragged me right to the bathroom and stuck a bar of Ivory Soap in between my mandibles. All 99 an 44/100 of it. Soap didn’t taste clean nor did it make my mouth feel clean. Actually it left a film, and never showed me the fucking err of my ways. I didn’t curse at my Mom but the soapy lesson was futile in keeping me from thinking fuck this!
My mom wanted me to understand that some words are bad. A little later I was helping my brother with his car and I broke some piece of shit little rod. Fuck man, if Mom had heard what he called me she would have needed an entire case of soap for his mouth. He let me know that I was a stupid mother fucking piece of shit asshole with shit for brains. And that was jut the opening line. But what struck me about all that profanity was that he never struck me. He didn’t even wail on my arm in that one spot where his fist has bull’s-eye radar for. I was shocked because for him punching me was more a form of communication, a greeting almost. Hey Buddy(WHACK) Hows it hanging(WHACK AGAIN). Same exact spot! Hitting me was as natural as yawning.
So I was feeling hurt inside my head but I wasn’t hurting outside my head. The massive profanity laden lashing he gave didn’t leave a single fucking bruise. I got it then. The words only hurt if you let them. Of course they were intended to dehumanize, deflate, degrade, and emasculate me but only in my brothers mind, not mine. I was almost tempted to smile at him and say “ Repeat that mother fucker, and Fuck You very much”. I also knew intuitively that if I used words incorrectly his fists would then handle the rest of the conversation. But I learned a lot about words that day.
The truth is words are only hurtful if you allow them to hurt. Maybe it’s a turn the other cheek thing. The concept of a spoken (or screamed) bastion of lingual symbols may make you feel bruised around the ego but if you just think (not out loud) “fuck this and fuck you, I fucking rock and you’re the asshole“, it’s a tad easier on the ego. The Id too! Profanity can be abused though. Use it to right to expresses great emotion and it can carry tremendous strength. He hit my arm, then my face and I was fucking pissed. That underscores and endorses how mad I was. But He fucking hit my fucking arm, then the scumbag fucking hit my god damn face. I was so mother fucking pissed I shit a fucking stone is overkill, and instead of the emotion it’s the profanity that becomes the focus.
Blaming words is fucked up. How did fuck become bad anyway? It’s a beautiful act. I do it as often as possible and you should too. Do you think it would be nicer to fornicate? If I said fornicate yourself is that mean? Who the fuck died and left the censorship police in charge of words? Fecal matter is okay but shit is a sin. You can say he showed her his penis but call it a cock and there will be hell to pay. Sounds like someone is being hypocritical! I won’t mention titles but it seems young boy molesters do a lot of telling people what they can or can’ say. George Carlin became the shit after he came up with the list of seven words you can’t say. I laughed my tits off. Which really isn’t a bad thing to say cause like George said, “Tit’s don’t even belong on the list.”
There are however two words I choose not to use. It’s a personal choice and I don’t believe the words are at fault, but society, at least by where I am. Society in general has turned both of those worst into concepts. The “C” word and the “N” word. First cunt. It has come to be a concept of severe degradation to women. The use of it implies that concept and unfortunately has become synonous with hatred toward females, and I love females. Calling a woman a cunt is a profound insult in my area and I just opt not to say it. The second, nigger, has also become a concept. Yea I get it, they can call each other that and its okay, but if you’re a white boy its not. That’s kinda sad, but its born out of anger and outrage. The term if spoken by me carries a concept of profound hatred of one race, a race which my ancestors treated less than human. Somewhere in my heritage its likely that an ancestor lynched a man because of the color of his skin. I am ashamed of that and I wish I could change it but I can’t. What I can do is make a conscience decision to not use the word.
So that’s it mother fuckers and father fuckers, I am done letting my shit fly. I am not a religious person, but I recognize that many are offended by profanity. Honestly I find way too many Christians to be all god is good, and love each other and shit but are the first ones to throw stones at strangers. But I don’t want to get political and I respect their belief (hypocritical or not) and attempt to refrain from using it in front of them. On the other hand, if I slip, fuck em. Suck it up asshole! I make an even stronger effort around kids because its their parents responsibility to explain the bullshit of censorship. That’s what its all about, censorship. Say or write what ever you choose, but have the integrity to own up to it. Accept responsibility for you words and who is hearing them. “Freedom of speech bears with it the responsibility of their intent”………………………….PEACE