SOMEONE BROKE INTO MY HOME WHILE I WAS SLEEPING AND CRUMPLED UP MY FACE.

Thing I Learned Today While Walking the Dog

Throwing a bag of dog poop with my non-dominant hand over the fence (for the trash can) may mean that, instead, a bag of dog poop will get caught high up in a tree and become suspended directly over the driver's seat area of my car.

"Everything that we see is a shadow cast by that which we do not see." 

                      -- Martin Luther King, Jr.

An Ode To 8:43 a.m.

It's midway through the week,
The coffee here is cheap,
I should be in an awesome mood,
but the dog stepped in her own crap in the yard, and then ran from me, certain the fistful of damp paper towels I held was some sort of dog torture device, so there is a string of dog poop footsteps all over the porch, and one terrified, dogcrap-scented, 84-lb. mutt hiding behind the patio furniture.

Freaking out about the holidays?

Holiday Memory

"All I Want For Christmas Is A Rock And Roll Guitar," by The Stompers.

 

It came on the radio one night in the Dunkin Donuts in Lexington, Massachusetts, where I had stopped to get an extra large, regular coffee. The guy pouring asked if I liked the song. Mid 1980s. I made some snarky remark about how embarrassing the lyrics were, just really God-awful, only to have a man on the bar stool next to me swivel my way and introduce himself as a member of the band.

Too late for Halloween now.

What scared you, when you were little, that made no sense to anyone else?

I was afraid of the color yellow, and the inside of my doll's head, and the way the TV sounded when it was just static. Oh, and elves. Elves were scary little assholes. Don't let anyone tell you any different.