The Toytie Chronicles Chapter 2

Fourteen years ago I stumbled out of a deep and solicitous sleep when I looked over and caught a queer glimpse of a beautifully chizzled creature radiating an unbelieveable glow only seen in movies. The religious experience definitely toyed with my early morning cloudiness. And afraid to touch him for fear he would disintegrate or just hop away, I left his side and found myself perched in a glass block window of sunlight...lost of the present, skipping thoughts as one would a dusty card file in a very large, very quiet library. I was overcome with unwanted sadness and fear that weighed heavy yet ironically inviting. Time passed so slowly as the reverie commenced. I just wish it hadn't passed at all. I couldn't wait for the sleeping creature to emerge from the cocoon from which we wove. I needed him to shatter the grim and stealthy silence. I needed him to open his heart and pull me in. How could I do it? What would I say? How could I keep my radiant froggie deep within the depths of my soul? I wanted to crush him with my love-filled frame, but dared not reveal my crazed and perpetual love for my perfect little creature. I wanted him more than I could fathom. And before he could open his big brown, delicious eyes he groped the nest from which we shared...body and soul...searching for the curvacious embodiment from which he nestled, while the moon stood guard. His eyes glistened as he found his heated blanket of flesh perched in the blinding window of time. The silence would soon be broken and so would my heart. Time would run away and leave me with sadness...warm sadness...filled with tiny blissful moments of truth.

Maybe...

You're Out!
And Senor Frio
Has Moved In!
My Chest Has Been Severed
And My Heart...
Bludgeoned And Spewed

My Earth Is Ready To Swallow

I Tried
To Be Nice
But It Hurt
I Tried
To Be Sweet
But...
Didn't Have It In Me
I Tried To Warm Your Heart
And Failed

My Earth Is Ready To Swallow

I'm Sorry
For Dragging You Back
I'm Sorry
For Promising Change
I'm Sorry
For Wasting Your Time
And Not Leaving
When You Asked Me To Stay

My Earth Is Ready To Swallow

Maybe...
Someday
You'll Want Me Back
Maybe...
Someday
You'll Think I'm Beautiful
Maybe...
Someday
You'll See Me...
Walking Away...
From You

High Risk! Low Tolerance!

Kind...
Loving...N
Giving

No Exceptions!

He Can't Have
A Wife...
A Knife...
A Gun...
Or a Bus Card

I Won't Tolerate
An Ego...
An Attitude...
A Temper...
Or a Chain of Secrets

He Must Have
A Warm Heart...
A Great Personality...
A Little Intelligence...
And A Sweet Disposition

I Definitely Won't be Able to Stomach
A Fake Tan...
Huge Muscles...
A Phony Personality...
Or a Horny Disposition

He Must Be...
Kind...
Loving...N
Giving

No Exceptions!

Jerks...
Dicks...N
Ass Holes...
Need Not Apply!

If Your Nickname Is
Fucker!...
Get Out of My Way!...
Stay Out of My Life!...
And Pray for A Miracle!...

A Heart Donor
To Be Exact!

Love Ya Babe!

(This Blog is Experiencing Emotional Difficulties. Please Continue With Caution.)

Pardon!

He Wants to What?
Oh my Gosh!
I was just Thinkin' about that Humper
As I perspired in the Hub of my Home...
Tearey-eyed n Disheveled
Relieving Myself
Of the Days Temptations...
Torturing my Tiny
Disobedient Colon...
Cleansing my Pallet
Thor is Definitely a Subject
Of Concentration

Pardon!
Senor Cuth
Has left the building!

Cyber-Love

Eese no steeky
Eese no messy
Eese puwty good
Deese Cyberr REVELATION!
I tink, maybe...
I like...
Very mush
I no haf spen muney
I no haf look good
I jus mus haf
Zee Internet Connexions
Eese verry easy
I can uh rrite
I can uh receeve
I can make a muney
I can spen a muney
I can fine a huney
I make uh connexions
Sumtimze...
I make joke
You trry!
You no be...
Deesappoined
I tink
I make happy you
Yes?

I Am A Victim...

Victim of Circumstance?
No.
I Am A Victim...
By Choice
A Victim...
With a Voice
I Don't Use
I Prey in Darkness
And Pray for Light
Smoke Signals
Received...
As Smoke Screens
Falling Dimmer
With Every Jab
I Dream of Laughter
And Ever After
Docile and Limp
Tearing Up
Without Emotion
Screaming Quietly
"Drink the Potion!"
Mailing Letters...
Unforeseen
Igniting...
Heartless Captors
I Am A Victim...
At Times Lay Still
Duelling with Morality
Scrambling for a Pill
Crawling Through
The River of Tears
In Search of Humanity...
Exuding Good Will
I Am A Victim...
Captured of My Will
I Am A Victim...
By Choice
Shackled...Belittled...And Shamed

Please...Just Let Me Fly!

I Don't want to be Angry
because...
Smiling Hurts!
I Don't want to be Upset
because...
Eating Hurts!
I Don't want to feel this pain in my Gut!
And I Don't want to Cry!

I'm Tired!
I'm Tired of Feeling Bad!
The Lies are KILLING Me!
And I'm Tired of being the Stronger Person
Because...
I'm Not!

I Bleed like any other...
But...Lie...to Kill the pain...
Not cause it!

I Don't want to Shake Uncontrollably!
I Don't want to Lose myself...
Again!
I'm Tired of Wanting to be Dead!
Just make it happen...
Already!

Please...
Just Let Me Fly!

I Want to Fly!
I Want to Fly myself to Freedom!
I Want to Feel Happy!
I Want to Be Happy...
Truly Happy!

Why is THIS so hard?

I'm Not a Bad Person!
I Try to do the Right Thing!
My Compassion Precedes Me!

So...
Why am I here?
Again?
Why am I in this Dark, Cold, Wet Hole?
AGAIN???

A few Rusty Bearings is all I have Left!
Common Sense is a Gift I was Never given!
Dignity Moved Out...
Way before I could speak!
SHAME...
Is my middle name!

I Don't want to Play, Anymore!
I Never signed Up in the First Place!

It's OVER!

I'm DONE!

For God Sakes!
Give me my Wings, Already!!!

I Just Want To Fly!!!

Please...
Just Let Me Fly!

The Toytie Chronicles Chapter 1

I stepped on a frog some years ago, but he didn't react the way one would after being stomped on with a big, fat greasy shoe. Instead, he turned over in the middle of the street and laughed. Startled by his reaction, I jumped up, lost my footing and landed right on my backside. Again, he laughed, but this time it was accompanied by a hearty chuckle as he held his tiny, round slithery belly. And I couldn't help it. I laughed right along with him. We laughed so hard it brought tears to our eyes. He was so cute and charismatic. I remember thinking to myself "this little froggie is so full of life. I hope I didn't hurt him." And before I could pull myself together, there he was...sitting on my lap, staring at me with the sweetest brown eyes I had ever seen. His smile was so warm and oh, so mesmerizing. I was hooked. Right then and there I was hooked on the cutest damn frog I had ever come in contact with. There hadn't been many, but I knew this one was different. This one was mine. Everytime he smiled, my heart smiled. It would swell up like a ripe tomato and glisten as if it had been kissed by the sun. I was in a dream...but...I wasn't dreaming. I was wide awake. I was living...I was feeling...and I was alive. Time just wouldn't stop for me and neither did he. He just kept on hopping. And just as quickly as he hopped into my life, he hopped right back out. He had places to go and explore with tons of people to meet. He had to share is charismatic smile with the world. It was his fate...and always would be. He was put on this earth for everyone else, but himself. That froggie in the street will always be that little froggie in the street...cute...charismatic...and full of life. But for me, that froggie will always be my Prince. And one of these days, I'll have the opportunity of stepping on him, again and losing myself in those sweet brown eyes. One of these days...again...my heart will smile.

Hey, Soul Sister

Hey, Soul Sister

Ain't That Mister Blister
On Your Mind, Again?

"To Be, Or Not To Be?" should be the question you ask yourself, right now! Do I want to live with opportunities and choices, or merely exist within a living Hell...a self-made prison filled with anxiety, turbulence and pain? The choice is yours...for now. But when the clock strikes O.C.D....there's no turning back. All the money in the world won't be able to free you from your self inflicted pain. "Damaged Goods" is what you'll feel like. "Damaged Goods" is all you'll be. And at some point in your disgusting, habitual flurry of a life you'll ponder warily on the life you were given...before selling out. The Choice Is Yours! Be stubborn!Be smart! Use that big, beautiful, healthy brain of yours! Don't allow yourself to be fooled into a smoke screen of happiness. There are no shortcuts...only really bad choices. You are stronger than you give yourself credit for. Listen to your inner voice...it knows the truth.

Sincerely,

Soul Sister

11:11 am

When the clock strikes "11:11" the Universe supposedly opens up and grants all kinds of wishes. You are suppose to chant positive affirmations as the clock strikes "11:11" and before you know it the positive affirmations become a reality. Cool, huh? Well I thought so. So there I was...chanting, everytime I caught a glimpse of an "11:11" occurence on my phone, my computer, or even my DVR. " I am wealthy. I am healthy. I am beautiful. I am happy. I am successful." "I am wealthy. I am healthy. I am beautiful. I am happy. I am successful." "I am wealthy. I am healthy. I am beautiful. I am happy. I am successful." Yada...yada...yada... For the past 3 years I've been chanting to the all mighty significant time of "11:11". And yes, I am healthy. One outta five ain't bad. But...today, "11:11" was spoiled...tainted...ruined, forever. Time, as I knew it will never be the same. "11:11" will no longer be my hope for the future, but an end to a means. I have been struck on the head with a two by four, stabbed in the heart with a keyboard and tossed out for another Dream. I guess I'm still 0 for five. Time of Death...11:11 am.

When I Was A Kid...

When I was a kid I used to pee in my bed, my brothers' bed and in my 100% cotton, diaper-like underwear. My entire childhood was filled with urine. Between the ages of three and five years old I spent alot of time standing in a corner of our living room, butt naked with my urine filled underwear on my head as a punishment for not making it to the bathroom on time. As I stood there teary-eyed and embarrased, my Dad would play a few of his 45's on a huge piece of furniture known as a console record player. His theme song for me was "Rain Drops Keep Falling On My Head". He played it over and over, again, raising the volume to drown out my blubbering cries. Ironically, I really came to like that song. I think it grew on me.

Every night was filled with pee anxiety. And it seemed to get worse, as I got older. I tried everything not to pee in the bed. I swore off liquids and tried peeing before bed. I even tried sleeping with my brother in his bed. I'd plead and plead with him "Come on, Rudy. I'll take out the trash for you for an entire month...I'll wash the dishes by myself..I'll..." "No, Sue! Cuz then you'll put Me in the Wet Spot and tell mom I peed in the bed!" Like I said...I tried everything. Last resort...sleeping, while sitting up with one leg on the floor, so that I could fly to the bathroom before my flight to London ever made it off the runway. Oh, how I dreamt of sleeping and waking in a dry bed, especially when I was invited to a Slumber Party. But, as fate would have it...just like clock-work...I found myself flying through the skies of London...just above the dark cold streets...lighting up my path with a bright fiery torch, experiencing a Big...Fat...Wet Dream. I'd fly from lamp post to lamp post with a feeling of duty-like gittiness and, then, suddenly, in mid-flight(mid-stream) I'd realize, "Oh, no! I'm peeing in the bed, again! Uuugh! Well...it's too late, now". And I'd continue with my Dream Job...making a mental note to rise a little earlier, so that I may sneak in a wet and stinky load before breakfast.

Grilled Cheese Sandwiches On Rye

Understanding The Dance...
I Don't
Waiting For Perfection...
I Won't
Listening To The Masses...
I Can't
Sit And Cry

Grilled Cheese Sandwiches
On Rye

Playing The Game...
Without A Tail
Taunting The Big Guy...
Without Fail
Running With The Masses...
I Can't
Sit And Lie

Grilled Cheese Sandwiches
On Rye


So Why On Earth
Do I Whisper?
Why On Earth
Do I Cry?
Why On Earth
Am I Sleeping
Alone?
Living...
Breathing...
Dancing...
A Lie?

Grilled Cheese Sandwiches
On Rye

The Wall Of Thorns

Metal-n-Bones...
Metal-n-Bones...

I Hear The Sound
Of Metal-n-Bones

I Hear The Sound
Of Desperation

I Hear The Sound
Of No One There

I Hear The Sound
Of Sarah's Cries

I Hear The Sound
Of Sarah's Prayer

I Hear The Sound
Of Pain

The Wall Of Thorns
Was All She Knew...
The Wall Of Thorns
Meant Shame

She Feared The Darkness
As Well As The Sun

She Challenged Her Deity
Run After Run

She Welcomed The Rain
And Strived For Madness

She Held The Weight
And Stood

The Wall Of Thorns
Was All She Knew...
The Wall of Thorns
Was All She Could

A Safer Place
To Drift And Dance
A Tiny Place
To Flee
A Sacred Place
To Dream Of Chance
A Sacred Place
To Be

The Wall Of Thorns
Was All She Knew...
The Wall Of Thorns
Was Free

I Hear The Sound
Of Metal-N-Bones

I Hear The Sound
Of Me

The Wall Of Thorns
Was All She Knew...
The Wall Of Thorns
Was Free

Dear J.R.

Dear J.R.

I Had a huge knot in my kneck the other day and the pain almost killed me. (sorry) But I immediately thought of you and your failed seductive attempts on me and the girls to rub your muscle filled back. (lol) You'd compliment our attire...our make-up...whatever you could to get a little female attention, but...we all had your number. J.R. needed a little attention and we wanted to make damn sure we gave it to ya, but not before we made you earn it. We had you seating people for us. We had you running to the store...buying candy, tampons, gum...whatever. We even made you buy us ice cream to help shorten our long, dreadful work nights. But, whatever it was we asked of you...you did it. And you did it with a huge smile on your face...a huge authentic smile from ear to ear coupled with a tiny little giggle. I miss you J.R. and I'm sorry that I didn't rub your back when you asked me to. I'm sorry that I didn't take the time to learn more about you and your past relationships with your family, friends and fly by night acquaintances. I'm sorry about alot of things, but I am so glad I had the opportunity of flying with you even for a short amount of time. And I promise, the next time we fly in the same skies, you can have as many back rubs as your little heart desires. I miss the heck out of you and wish that you were here, everyday, but I know that you're happy and that you have your hands full...taking care of your children. I love you with all of my heart.

Sue

When I Was A Kid...

When I was a kid...I was afraid of the dark. I would beg my parents to leave some sort of a light on...and it didn't matter if it was a closet light, a hall light, or a bathroom light. I just needed some light to creep into my room, so that I could lay my head down to rest, but, it was never easy and always a Huge ordeal. Electricity was expensive and Dad never let me forget it. Alot of arguing...alot of crying...and alot of pain was induced before I could rest. But, once I was down, and some sort of light was in place, I'd turn to my little silver AM Radio and flip the switch. It would immediately transport and soothe my weak and wandering little mind to the pop hits of KTSA. Every night was an ordeal...every night was the same. I was scared of the dark and didn't want to be left alone, but...I wasn't alone. I shared a bedroom with four brothers and sisters. I was such a baby...the eldest of five kids...all sleeping in one room, and yet, I was deliriously afraid of the dark. I was more afraid of the dark than getting whipped. I don't know what would come over me, but the tears that were shed were real. The pleadings and the whippings were all real...painfully real.

Unfortunately, before Mom and Dad went to bed, they would turn off every single light, including my tiny radio that I had strategically propped up against my ear. But, once the lights were turned off and my transporter was yanked out of the wall...I'd wake up. I'd lay scared stiff, until, I thought it was safe to reconnect my metal "whoobie" and then I'd quietly turn a light back on. But...it didn't stay on for long. Before I had time to drift off to another world, I was beaten awake...yelled at...spit on and threatened. And instead of drifting off to the sounds of staticy pop music, I'd have to settle for the sounds of my own cries...deep within my pillow. Mornings couldn't come soon enough.

My Dad took pleasure in whipping us...and when I say us...I mean me. He showed no remorse and proudly walked away when he tired himself out. The more I screamed...the more he whipped. If I tried to run, I'd lose alot of hair and get hit with the buckle end of his belt...instead of just the leather strap. Sometimes, I'd try to catch the blows...so they wouldn't hurt as bad, but it just seemed to ignite his rage. My Dad was really mean and very scary. I wished him misfortune on a daily basis. I'd secretly wish that his little black volkswagon would drive off a southside cliff and never be seen, again or that he'd accidentally slam into a Pecan Tree and forget that he ever had a family, but he always made his way back home...unscathed. He had dark eyes coupled with a dark soul and he feared nothing. It was obvious that the neighbors were quite fearful of him...not to mention...my teachers. I don't know how they could have allowed me into their classrooms with welts and whip marks on my face...arms...and legs and not say a word to anyone that could help me. To this day...I don't know how my Mom was able to take the screaming. "Prince of Tides" comes to mind. To this day...I can still hear my screams. I don't live in the past, but yes...I'm still afraid of the dark and yes...I'm still afraid of my Dad. I guess some things will never change.

The Iron Skillet

Oooh Child! I loves me some swap meets! For years I been lookin' to score me's a black iron skillet. Girl! I had searched high-n-filthy time low. And Lord knows I had searched more low than than any self respectin' sista would care to admit. But the Good Lord has got my black ass! Praise the Lord! Child! If I hadn't found me's my black iron skillet, I'd still be livin' at mamma's. Thank the Lord! Thank the Lord! Ummm! I loves me some swap meets!

Lookee here... This black iron skillet can do some major damage if used properly. It can fry, sautee and smack the hell out of any bum in it sights. I tell ya...when I first bought this here black piece of gold...I had no money. I had nuthin but a big, fat Bum to my name. He wus about as worthless as the pimples on my sista's ass, but he say he loved me...so I kep him...big, huge mistake, but I kep him. He may have been a Bum, but he wus my Bum.

Oh...he didn't like it when I cum home that day with nuthin' for his sorry self, but Jimmy crack corn and I didn't give a rats ass what he thought. He never could git up and pull hisself away from that ol' damn sofa out back. He never taked me to no swap meets...he never taked me nowhere! I'd take my damn self. He knows damn well he could kiss my black ass! Sorry Heifer! I's needed me's an iron skillet to fries me some pickle. I wus cravin' me's some deep fried pickle and Lord knows when I wants sumthin' I goes out and gets it! I loves me some pickle! And ain't no Heifer in his right mind gonna get in my way. I kill him! I will have that lazy, no good for nuthin' Bum running through The Gates of Hell! Halleluliah!

So...when I cum home that day and heated up my big, beautiful black iron skillet, he threw a fit. He acket like he wus on crack. I wus frying me up sum pickle...and he didn't like it...he didn't like it one damn bit. Ummm! And he started yellin' n spittin' n gettin' all cock-eyed, so I had to calm his black ass down. I had to smack the hell outta that sorry Heifer. So I picked up my big, black iron skillet and smacked him upside his head...pickles n all. And when he finally come to that next week, his memory just wudn't what it used to be. He say I was a Crazy B@#$% that took him away from his luvin' family, so...we let him go. Dropped his sorry ass off at the bus station. And that is where I found me another Heifer with a J-O-B. So...I moved outta my mammas little ass house. The Lord works in mysterious ways. Praise The Lord! Praise The Lord! Child! Praise The Lord! Ummm! I loves me sum pickle!

Yo!

Have some RESPECTABILITY for yourself! You're a Big City Driver in a Big City! Now, get out there and Drive! Drive your big sorry self through this crazy maze of life! Move Your Ass! Ya Big Sorry Sap! Get out there and Breathe! Inhale the god damn flowers! Scrape your knees on some astro turf! Bleed a little! That's what Neosporin's for..it gets the hurt out. Go ahead. Sopp somebody up with a biscuit! Put a little "whough" in your step. Ge head. Nobody's watchin. Cuz nobody cares! Nobody, but nobody is gonna say a god damn word! Ya hear what I'm sayin? Go on Brotherman! Fly! Fly like the bird within! Soar! Smile! Swim with the Guppies! Swim with the sharks! Just get out there and Sing! Who cares what you sound like? Who cares what you look like? It's all about Truth! Being True to yourself...not your Neighbors...not your Facebook Friends. It's about You! It's always been about You! Unleash yourself! Pull that damn key out of your ass and unleash yourself! You only have ONE life to live! One nature hikin'...wine slammin' life to live! You owe it to Yourself to have a few knots in your kneck! You owe it to Yourself to lose your voice in a love triangle! You owe it to Yourself to seek out your crazed and unconventional soul mate!!! Uuuggghhh!!! Yo! Where am I?

A Filthy Place

Oh no you didn't! There is a time an a fithy place for rug cleaners like yourself. You best put your God given face on B'for I make ya stay down there all night long. You are too old to be missin' Supper Time in the dead of Winter. Now come on outta there an earn your keep. I gotta scratch n sniff. Them critters is killin' me! Pour me a nasty shot of whiskey!! And make it a double!!! Dokter's orders.

I Don't...

I don't want you to know who I am
I don't want you to tell me what to do
I don't want you to listen to my ramble
And I don't want you to meet my alter egos

I don't want you to see my flaws
I don't want you to hear my whines
I don't want you to try to change who I am
And I don't want you to know my pain

I don't want you to patronize me
I don't want you to judge
I don't want you to hear my lies
And I don't want you to leave

I don't want you to touch me
I don't want you to see me
I don't want you to love me
And I don't want you to read this

Come Hither

I'm Forming a Trail of Pizza Crumbs to Texas
And I'm Topping it Off...
With a Little Unknown Prayer...
Created...By My Very Own...Tequila Laced Lips
I Will Stand at The Top of The Tower of Americas
Eagerly Awaiting Your Precarious, Yet Desperate Attempt
To Reunite With an Inevitable Erection of Passion
I'm Determined...
I'm Stubborn...
And I'm Totally Head Over Heels in Love...
With a Phantom...
I Call Fate
A Poisonous Love Affair Filled With Dream, Desire and Desperation...
A Mad Concoction Bursting of Truth...
A Rare, But Harmful Language
I Fear Nothing...But Reprocussions
Comfort is Overrated, Binding and Tasteless
I Fear Nothing...But the Unknown...
An Exciting Flavor of Darkness
I Fear No One...But Myself...
A Chained Monster of Grief and Damnation
I Am Lost In Translation...
Idle...Patient...And Angry
I See Nothing...But You...
My Eternal...Intangible...Serum Of Life

She Knows...

She knows... She knows that this time is different. Her journey was about to change. The souls of time past are amongst her. Their clear and evident presence have become a constant reminder of who she was before she clawed the door of greed and self destruction. No amount of pain could erase her truth. The Hell she was about to enter was of her own conviction...created and nurtured by she, alone. Her lies were of all magnitudes. No one was off limits. Family meant nothing. Friends became stepping stones, while children were despised and discarded. Acquaintances...merely, fair game. The pain bestowed upon others was unforgiveable, unfathomable and disgusting. And one by one...moment by moment...she will reunite with her truth. Reality has just become a nightmare. Dreams are a luxury of the past, while fantasies are banned, forever. "Soup De Jour"...Cancer.

Bon Appetits!

Oh, for heaven's sakes! What the heck are you doin' here? What on god's evil earth prompted you to jump into that 2-bit klunker of yours, drive across the U.S of A. in this blisterin' heat and praktically scare the living tar out of me? Do you know what time it is? I will tell you what time it is! It is time for you to chill! Go on! Git back in that pollutin' pooper of yours and drive on back to where you come from. Ain't nuthin' here for you. She gone! She upt and left. No forwarding address. No mucous-filled good-byes. Nuthin'! Didn't think she had it in her. But, there you go. So, go on! Git! It's 2:00am, and I am trying to buy me a state-of-the art girdle off the TV set. And I can't do that with a blubberin' fool on my door stoop. You are killin' my chances with Bubba! Now. How on earth is he ever goin' to leave his wife and her snot-nosed litter if I can't seduce him in my Sunday Best? I may never git another chance to entice that boy and make him fall head over heals for my highly desirable, volumptuous curves. I am God's gift to Bubba! And I am goin' to make dadgum sure he knowz it! So, go on! Git! Got no time for you and your shannanigans, right now. She gone and you are a Moron for chasing after that cheap-ass hussy. So, turn your dumb ass around and get off my god dang'd property! My time is precious and...Oh my God! Where did that ass come from? Hot dang, boy! You are hotter than a Brahma Bull in heat! You best get them buns back up here! You won't find a decent motel room for at least a couple hundred miles. And there ain't no sense in driving all night when you've got a perfectly comfortable sofa bed right on the other side of this fine fed body. You could leave whenever you want to. No hurry...no hurry, at all. In fact, I'll even run a bath for ya. I will make it my bizness to help relax those poor, but fine, an tired butt muscles of yours. No trouble...no trouble, at all. Won't take but a sec. And you will find that I am well versed in hospitality, sir...if you know what I mean? An just for the record, you can't buy healthy cleavage like this from a stuffy ol' doctor, neither. That's for damn sure. These is real, and all natural, honey. And lucky for you, they come attached to the finest, most bodacious body around. Hell! They'll even feed ya. Two huge honkers-n-milk, for the price of nuthin'! Bon Appetits!

"Lucky"

Hello!!! I'm lying naked on the floor! Hello!!! F****r! Hurry Up! Swing open that cheap ass door and jump my beefy bones! Why don't cha? I only have one lifetime, you know. I can't stay this gorgeous, forever. Somethings gotta give...at sometime, or another. And, right now, I'm willing to give it All to you...A roll on the floor with a Wannabe Whore! Who talks like that? I mean who actually thinks like that? Hello!!! Me! F****r! And do you know what that makes you? One "Lucky" Motherf****R! You are so god damned "lucky"...I wish I was you! I wish I could walk around 24/7 with a stick up my ass and a frown on my face and have my wife willing to roll around on a dirty ass floor to please my lazy motherf*****g ass. But, I'm not you! I'm me...the naked girl on the dirty ass floor! So, please, Honey. Hurry up and get down here. It's getting cold. Holy Cow! What time is it? I had no idea how late it was. I have an early meeting in the morning. I can't be all "Hoochy" with you, tonight. I need to get to bed and get some rest. What was I thinking??? How could I have been so irresponsible with my time? Can we shoot for tomorrow night? Are you going to be O.K. with that? We can pick up right where we left off... I know you want to... Only, this time, make sure you sweep the floor a little better. Damnit, honey! Why can't we get one of those "fancy shmancy" area rugs we see set up at the corner gas stations all over town? Who cares if they're all animal prints? I bet they're pretty soft... And I could make damn sure you get a little rug burn as a momento of our "wild n skanky" night... What??? Why are you looking at me like that? What did I do? Did I say something wrong? Why are you always looking at me like that? I don't know what your f*****g problem is...but, you really need to change your f*****g attitude. I am gettting sick and tired of you and your god damned faces. I told you, Fucker! We can pick up where we left off, Tomorrow Night! Right now! I need to jump in the shower and get to bed. I don't have time to argue with you, tonight! Tomorrow, after work, I'll rush my tired ass home...fix your god damned dinner...and I'll even sweep that god damn floor, again, Ok? So, don't screw things up! When I call you in tomorrow night...You better be ready!!!

Honey Do's & Don'ts

Honey, If He Ain't Yours...Don't Do Him!

Honey, If He Says He's Got Work To Do...She's Probably Younger and A Little Prettier!

Honey, If He Lies About Where He's Goin'...He's Lied About Where He's Been.

Honey, If He Needs His Mammas Permission...For Anything...Run!

Honey, If He Looks You In The Eye When He's Lying...He's Lying!

Honey, If He's At Home With You...Right Now...He's Probably On The Toilet. But, If He's Out Without Cha...Your Life Is In The Toilet.

Honey, If He Wants To Have Sex Everytime He Walks Through The Front Door...Count Your Blessings, Get Naked and Smile.

Where On Earth Is Dorothy Dander?

I don't know what to tell ya. I woke up yesterdee mornin'...took care of bizness...grabbed me some coffee...black, of course(cream-n-sugar's for sissies)...peeked out this here winda...and it was gone! Just like that. Poof! The whole damn trailer! Gone! And not a dad gum word. Twenty-four years...and not a dad gum word! I didn't even know she was thinkin' 'bout movin. Never said a freakin' word. I tell ya. Ya think ya know everythang there is to know about a crazy ass naybor that you've praktikally lived with for Twenty-four years...but...lookee here! A big ass hole! She took the whole got damn thang! Clothes...furniture...Patio Set...Gone! Hell! Even the dad gum dog is gone. Damn dog...barked at every got damn thang in sight. And then piss on himself if anyone or anythang got too dang close. And you could forget about scraps. Stupid dog wouldn't eat scraps to save his life. Everytime I tried to give him a little sumthin' left over from my dinner, he'd run off whimpering like a little ol baby. Hmmm...I don't think he ever got over them green weiners n peanut butter. Dumm dog...shit for days. I tried re-cooking them weiners...you know...to cook off that fuzzy green layer they get after a few days, but the dang flies kept huverin...takin' over my entire kitchen, so I added a little peanut butter...you know...to catch the flies and to add a little more protein to his dinner. Hell! He didn't even eat the whole thang. Ungrateful dog! Just like his mamma. She never did stop complaining bout that smell that come off them weiners that day. Ungrateful, Hussy! Well, there goes the nayborhood! Dad Gummit! No tellin what kind of trailer trash is gonna try to crawl up in here. I'm scared. I truly am. And I've got that no good for nuthin, sneaky ass naybor to thank for it, too. Damn Hussy! Who the hell does she think she is? Winning the got damn Lottery n sneaking outta here like that! She knows damn well she owes me money. If it wudn't for me n my weekly coupon clippin' she'd be in a HUGE pickle, right now. I swear...If I ever see that buck-toothed snake, again, I'm uh give her a piece of my mind. Hell...I may just give her the whole got damn thang. I thought we wuz friends. We shared a whole hell of a lot over the years...a damn clothes line...the Sunday Paper...a big ass plastic chair I bought from the change I found lying around her stinky ass trailer. Hell, we even shared the same got damn tooth brush. For some strange reason she loved borrowin' my damn tooth brush, but it didn't bother me none, cuz she always returned it smellin' cleaner than it wuz when I loaned it to her...kinda like a bathroom cleaner...nice n fresh.
I wuz kinda like her mentor...you know. I taught her every naughty trick in the book. I even suggested that she praktice on me, once in a while...you know...to keep them juices flowin', but once she took that bottle of Xanex...it wuz lights out in Georgia. It be days before she wuz up n crawlin, again. If you ask me, I think she wuz depressed. Every Sunday, she'd drive on down to Shady's Groceries, pick up a few can goods, along with a scratch n sniff Lottery ticket...grab her noisy ass dog and lock herself up that hot tin box of hers...til I cum a yellin' and a bangin'. Hell! If it wusn't for me, she'd a kick that damn bucket, years ago. I don't think I ever saw her smile, once. She wuz a moody lil' heiffer...always tired...always pissed...always yellin at me for cuttin' up her damn newspaper. It wuz all bad news, anyhow. Hell! I wuz doin' her a huge ass favor. And I can betcha, If I could read, I'd be just as depressed as she wuz. Don't want any part of it. No, siree. I'm good. I'm as happy as jail bird on Christmas. Hmmm...Just how much did you say that moody heiffer won, again?

American Woman

Tits n Ass! Tits n Ass! Everywhere I look in this damn trailer, I got some pretty young thang starin' up at me with huge fake tits and a big bony ass. And I am so over it. It's official. I'm calling in the professionals. Out with the old and in with the HUGE. I am so done with this ol' body I can't even tell ya. After tomorrow, this ol' classic is gettin' a full body overhaul...from tiny rag top droops to draggin' ass bottom. We are gettin' tucked, sucked, lifted and in-jected with only the most quality of poisons ever con"cock"ted by a "crazy ass" scientist. I want it all. And like any red-blooded American Woman, I want it for a discount. I want cheap hard boobs sittin' perfectly spaced on my crooked little collar bone. Cleavage to high heaven...is my dream. And if they interfere with my swollen new lips, I'll just work um out...with a partner...of course. I just yearn for the day when I can walk down the road...butt naked...in some flashy, pain stakingly uncomfortable, nine inch weapons of pleather. I want respect accompanied by druell. And I want it, now. I demand it! So hang on to your own damn love handles. This future, Triple D masterpiece is fixin' to be handle-free. First class all the way! Baby! So when you're done chuggin' that there Tall-boy just stick it in this here aluminum can receptacle. I'm gonna need me all the aluminum cans I can get my grimmy little hands on if I'm ever gonna reach Porn-star status. And you might start thinkin' about saving up, yourself, cuz' I'm a need me a New Stripper Pole. That rusty one you borrowed from your mamma, last year, just ain't gonna do the "new girls" justice...besides...it stinks.

June 25, 2009

I don't know what happened. One second, I was sitting at the edge of my bed in my big, beautiful bedroom when this huge pain in my heart took over my entire chest and BOOM...I was sucked up and flying like a rocket...but backwards. I had no control of my body, what-so-ever. Before I knew it, I was perched up in a tree that seemed to have been created just for me. But, it was so high. It was as if I was sitting at the top of the world. I felt like a King...reigning over the entire world. My body felt so light and airy. I almost knew I could fly, but was afraid. And when I finally looked down , I could see my home...my ranch. It looked so small and empty. Sorrow filled my heart as the Ferris Wheel called out to me. "Come back. Come back home. Come ride with me." But, I couldn't move. I couldn't go back. It was impossible to go back. And I knew deep down...I was no longer alive. I cried like a baby...without a single wet tear and immediately slipped into a deep, calm sleep. I've never felt more rested in my entire life. I almost couldn't wake up...and I didn't want to. It was such a magical sleep. I felt so at peace with myself and my thoughts. All of my pain was gone. Here...there was no pain....no color...just shades of love. And there they were...my family...my brothers and sisters...and all of my children. I was so happy to see my family and I tried to call out to them, but they couldn't hear me. I yelled and I yelled. "What's wrong? What's going on? Why are you all here?" I tried so hard to get their attention, but they just couldn't hear me. "Mamma" I yelled. "Mamma, why are you crying? I don't want you to cry. Blanket, please don't cry. Daddy's here! Daddy's here! Paris! Prince! I'm here! Look! I'm here! Daddy's here! Please don't cry! My babies...please don't cry! Everything's going to be allright! I promise you! I promise. Everything is going to be just fine."
The Staple Center was dark and filled with so many people I didn't know...just like when I performed concerts there. But, this time...it was different. This time I wasn't performing. The silence was deafening. And there at the bottom of the highly decorated stage lay a beautiful...beautiful gold casket, topped with the reddest of roses I had ever seen. It was so beautiful I wanted to cry, but I couldn't. I couldn't move. I couldn't cry. I couldn't do anything but watch my dear family and friends cry for me. My mother ,Elizabeth, wasn't there, but I could hear her crying and still do. I know she'll grace me with her presence, soon. She misses me, so. My babies will get through this. They're strong...and beautiful. They have their whole lives ahead of them. I just wish I could be there for them. I just wish I could touch them...and hold them...and tell them that I'm O.K. My mom and sister, Janet, will make sure my babies are well taken care of. Janet would never let anything happen to them. She's a good person with a beautiful heart. I'm going to miss her. I'm going to miss everyone. How could I have been so stupid? I had no idea relieving my physical pain would cause so much grief in the end. I trusted people...the wrong people. I trusted them with my life. It was a huge mistake on my part that cost me my life with my children. They are all that ever mattered to me...not fame...not fortune...not anything. My children were my entire world. If only...I could go back. If I could go back...I would. If I could go back...things would be different...I would be different...Life...would be different.

Peace

Michael

If I Could Frame A Kiss...

If I Could Frame A Kiss...
Senior Prom Comes To Mind
With A Fogged Up Monte Carlo
And A Flashlight...
Dancing...
On My BIG Behind
But...
If I Could Frame A Kiss...
With YOU In Mind
I'd Frame The Night
Of Passion...
Caught...
Beneathe The Open Sky
As The Warm Summer Winds
Fused Our Hearts...
And Our Souls
We Danced...
In A Moment
Lost...
Never...
To Let Go
Yes, Siree
If I Could Frame A Kiss...
Of A Deep...
Sweet Moment
In Time...
I'd Frame The Night
Of Magical Bliss
Glistening...
Soaring...
In Harmonious Rhyme
If I Could Frame A Kiss...
With YOU In Mind
I'd Frame The Night
Of Passion...
Caught...
Beneathe The Open Sky

Luv

A Dreamer

Mom (Circa 2000)

Mom,
I remember when McCall’s Patterns were a dime, denim patches were a nickel and Thom McCann sales people got “dollar signs” in their eyes as all five of us trailed in behind you for new school shoes. Every school year was a struggle for our large family, but you and dad always seemed to manage. I always had a clean “one of a kind” dress, fresh off the “Singer”, while Rudy had a fresh pair of knee patches on “last years” jeans. All “high-water” jeans were given to Cathy, a.k.a. “The Baby Cry”. Reuben and Delia were too young to care about what they wore.
A new school year was always exciting, but Summer was so much more fun. All five of us would ride my little blue bike around the block, taking turns or all at once...giving each other “pumps”. We managed to play slip-n-slide off the front porch without cracking a single skull. And we played with Barbie Dolls, until Rudy gave them homes in the trees. But, our most favorite Summer Time Adventure was “Mud-Pie Briggade”. We’d turn on the water hose, saturate a bald spot in the backyard, roll up huge mud balls in the palm of our hands and Attack the House. The bigger the “splat”... the louder our laughter and screams became...until...“The Whistle”... Dad’s whistle. It would freighten every hair on our body, and tighten every butt muscle known to man...but we survived.
Mom, I know some years have passed since, then, but the memories will always remain. You gave up your dreams and sacrificed everything for us. You’ve never passed judgment and you’ve always tried to claim our pain as your own. I don’t know where we’d be without you.

Love,

Sue

Fast Food Drive-Thru Windows...Not Anymore!

So...back in the day, one could pull up to a drive-thru window...order their food... pay for their food and receive their food...lickity split. Today, one can pull up to a line of cars...curse at the wait...place their order...repeat their order...have their order repeated to them...pay for for their order, and receive, still, the wrong freakin' order..only...after being instructed to pull off to the side to wait another freakin' twenty minutes for their food. All of this, while the line of cars behind them receive their wrong orders before they do. What a Crock! Fast Food Drive-Thru Windows don't exist. It's more like a "Park-n-Wait" for the wrong freakin' order fiasco. I hate them! And if that's not enough to chap your hyde, they always seem to put the guy that CAN'T speak English in the Drive-Thru. Uuugh! And if by chance he or she CAN speak English...they haven't got a clue. But, unfortunately, if they even have the slightest bit of a brain...they're RUDE as Hell. What the F~~~! Are you kidding me? What in the Hell happened to Customer Service. No one says "Thank You", unless turning your back on a customer is a new international custom for "Thank You". I don't know. I didn't receive a Twit. And no one says "Your Welcome". Am I from another Planet? Were my "Ass Whoopins" for "lack of Manners" even real, or did I imagine the whole pain-filled, tear-gushin' thing?

And...don't even get me started on the lack of quality these "Park-n-Waits" offer. When did a "slice" of cheese become a "slither" of "orangeness", Mr "M D Cheapskate"? And why can't "Jack" make a decent fry? It's not rocket science! It's a freakin' pa-tater..deep fried in oil. I don't get it. And apparently...they don't either. Any Hoo! If I owned a "Park-n-Wait", you could bet things would be different. And it wouldn't be anything like little Miss "Wendy's". That franchise has really destroyed their product. I guarantee they won't be using their "Where's The Beef" Ads, anymore. Because, really, Where in the Hell is YOUR Beef little Miss What's Her Name? "Forget About It!" Frosty's are a thing of the past...unless, you like paying for a "large" and gettin' nothin' but a "tease". Peace Out!

The Man Of My Dreams!

He's a Fantasy!
A Mere Figment
Of My Imagination!
Existing Only...
To The Crippled
At Heart!
His Sleek New Doo
Is Blinding...
Captivating...
And Oh, So
Delicious!
He Wears His Heart
On His Sleeve
And His Eyes
On The Universe
His Words
Bear No Meaning
Yet...
His Thoughts
Swim in Truth
His Undermining Smurk
Will Tease
Yet...
Support You
While His Sun-kissed Skin
Glistens and Sparkles
And Dances
In the Pupils
Of, Yet
Another Beholder
Even...
The Tiniest
Of Hearts
Will be Shattered!
He is a Slayer
Of the Soul!
And a Player
Of the Mind!
His Tactic
Is Simple
Yet...
Far from Benign
His Lips
Taste of Sulphur
While the Moon
Sleeps in Trees
Anyone Know Him?
The Man of My Dreams!

Here We Go, Again

Hello! Here we go, again. "Stone Cold" is driving while I "back-seat" drive from the passenger's seat. Now, If you're thinking that "Stone Cold" is the same "Stone Cold" as the Wrestler...you couldn't be more wrong. I call my insignificant other "Stone Cold", because he's a cold-blooded mutha with a stone face...not stoned face...a stone face. Hence, the name "Stone Cold". He has only two emotions...pissed and pissed off. And if I can keep him in either one of those states...I'm happy. Because...once, he accidentally falls into the normal regions of happiness, he becomes a huge pain in my ass and all the fun of pissing him off is gone...and then I gotta start from scratch. I want to have fun without having to work for it.
Anywayz...so we're drivin' down the road and he aks me who I'm talkin' to when I start screamin' yuge obsenities. So, I told him the trut. "I'm screamin' at the mudda-fucka who'z drivin'." "And who'z that?" he aks with tiny-puckad lips. "Well, would it make youze feel betta if I said the uddah guy? I sayz. "What the..." he screeched as he slammed on his brakes. "What, Honey" I sayz. What'z tha maduh?" "If I drive so badly," he sayz, "then what in the hell am I doin' drivin'? Why aren't you drivin, dammnit?" "Honey, I sayz. I'm only doin' my girly friend duties. I'm tryin' to make ya feelz needed. I'm tryin' to give ya a purpose in life. I don't want ya ta have ta go thruze ya entire life in limbo and pissed off for nuttin'. I wanna give yas a reason to be pissed off. Anger is a wonderful thing, Honey. Ya really need to embrace it. And it's so healty for ya. It gets your blood pumpin' and keeps ya heart tickin'. See, Honey, it's workin, already. Ya veins never looked healtier."

Take Me Back To The Days Of Breakfast

Sand in her socks
Urine in her undies
And tears on her mind
Like the road side assistance
Familiar voices in the distance
Can't be denied

Take me back
To the days of Breakfast
With Mamma in the kitchen
And Daddy on her back
Brother on the toytie
Givin' Mamma no love...
Givin' Mamma no slack

She runs with a limp or two
And sweats like a whore
Drowning with the simple minds
Sleeping at her door

Take me back
To the days of Breakfast
With Mamma in the kitchen
And Daddy on her back
Sister balling in the sink, again
Givin' Mamma no love...
Givin' Mamma no slack

Sweat become tears
And tears become no one
I'm starving in the rain, again
And, again...
I'm starving in the sun

Take me back
To the days of Breakfast
With Mamma in the kitchen
And Daddy on her back
With Fatso having seconds
Givin' Mamma no love...
Givin' Mamma no slack

Growing up is tough
Making all the right moves
Living with a mouth to feed
While crammin' in the booze

Take me back
To the days of Breakfast
When everything was Real
When Mamma gave me Kisses
And showed me how to Feel

Mr Sunshine

Not so fast, Mr Sunshine
You just ain't all that
Ya barely even know me
And you really need a hat

Besides...
I haven't had my breakfast, yet
I'm totally out of Pops
I haven't seen the light of day
Hell! It's barely two o clock

What the heck ya doin' here?
I thought you lived in Kan-sas
I thought you lived with Pret-ty People
Pretending to be O-na-sis

You gave me Hope, Mr Sunshine
And you even made me Dream
You made me Want, Mr Sunshine
And you freakin' made me scream
What the heck ya doin' here
All nice n buff n lean?

The letters that I wrote ya, then
All kept coming back
I tried to use the stamps, again
But...
Weird Mr Postman Jack
Just wasn't havin'
Any kind of that

I tried to make you like me...
I did EVERYTHING I could
I even ate the oceans rubble
Topped with nasty
And a dash of wood

What the...
Are you doin' here?
Could you be lost, again?
Are you lookin' for a lil' "sum...sum"
With kitty number two-thousand ten?

Hey, Mr Sunshine
What da ya have to say?
Are ya here to make a go of things
Or would you rather play?

I never...
For the life of me
Thought I'd see your face
Smiling in the flesh, again
Reaching for my waist

Hey, Mr Sunshine
Wanna have some fun?
I know a little restaurant
Where the ladies wear a gun

Wake Up!

Wake Up Suzy Q!
Big Trouble Is Riiight Here!
A Big Ol' Mess Of Quick Sand
And Unhealthy Grains Of Queer!

Wake Up There Suzy Q!
And Get Your Ass in Gear!
We're Gettin' Out Of Dodge
And We're Headin' For The Frontier!

There Ain't No Time To Doddle
And There Ain't No Time To Tear
Hell! There Ain't No Time For Questions
And There Ain't No Time For Fear!

So Gitty Up Suzy Q!
And Get Your Game Face On!
Grab A Tube Of Lipstick
And Put Them Red Stilettos On!
It's Time to Wheel and Deal!
Hell! It's Time to Get It On!

So Get Out of That There Comfort Zone
And Shake Off Them Eyes of Fear
Time Just Ain't a Waitin'
See! Them There Wrinkles Is Here!

I'll Learn Ya To The Airport
And I'll Learn Ya To Be Free
I'll Learn Ya Foreign Languages
To Meet With Destin-He

So, Come On Suzy Q!
Time is a Wastin'!
Ya Need to Get Your Groove On
Hell! Ya Need to Get to Bastin'!
Ya Need to Live and Breathe a Little
Ya Need to Get to Tastin'!
Ya Need to Get Your Passion Back
Time is a Wastin'!

Gitty Up!!!

I Changed The Channel Of My Life, Today...

I changed the Channel of my life, today...
Froze...
Stopped breathing...
And failed to laugh
I slipped into oblivion
Coupled with a tear
Life is funny
When you're asleep
All bundled up in fear

Failure...
Is what haunts me, now
Crippling tiny dreams
Crippling tiny thoughts of fame
Never...
To be seen

I changed the Channel of my life, today...
Screamed...
Hyperventilated...
And passed out
I slipped into a coma
Coupled with convulsions
Checking in to the "house of drugs"
Only...
To check out

Life is funny
When you're awake
All bundled up in jackets
All bundled up in leather straps
Creating all the racket

Failure...
Is not an option, now
Freedom...
Is Key
Free to take the big, fat risks
Freedom...
Is Me

I changed the Channel of my life, today...
Saw your face and smiled
I know I'm in a better place
If only...
For a while
I know I'm in a different place
I've known it...
For a while
I know I'm in a bigger place
Filled with warmth
And smiles

I changed the Channel of my life, today...
I changed the face of love
I changed the tunnel of my fate
I changed...
The World...
Of Man...
And Cub

Dear J.R.

The nights are long, but the road to wellness is an eternity. Without fail, the wagon of perfection is dragging my over worked torso off the cliffs of a long and productive life to the slums of "limboville". Here is where I dream...without hope. Here is where I scream...without sound. Here...is where I'll die. "Limboville"...a dark, cold place of madness known to kill the soul. I wish I had your smile to keep me warm. The memories of you are fading fast and seeping through the cracks of my decomposing brain. I wish I had your thoughts spoken from your warm flesh topped with your tademark giggle. Why are you so far away? When will you visit? How can I make you stay? I've given up on failure and lay face down in the ditch of surrender. I wreak of cowardly ambition and shame. Time is my enemy, now. I just want the train to stop, the fields to be green and the lying to be over. I yearn for the days of true laughter, guilt free smiles and heart pounding excitement. I miss you J.R. I miss you!

Love

Sue

Be a Fucker...

Why? Why? Why? Why do we stay with people we don't like. I am so sick of people crying over some self absorbed asshole and claim that they "love him(her)". Oh, please. There is absolutely no such thing as being "in love" with someone. Ya, sure you can love their smile...their "Chicken Cachatorie"...or even the way they take charge with the whip in the basement. But, there is no way in Hell Anyone can love "everything" about someone...not even "alot" of things about someone. It's impossible. People hate more things about the person they're with than they actually love about them. Bad relationships are the norm. You're either comfortable with the bastard(bitch), scared of the bastard(bitch) or just freakin' stupid...I pleade the fifth. I think Dr Pepper really wanted to say "I'm a Fucker...You're a Fucker...Wouldn't you like to be a Fucker, too? Be a Fucker...Be a Crazy Fucker...Be a Fucker...Be a Scary Fucker...Be a Fucker...Be a Lazy Fucker...Be a Fucker...Drink Dr Fucker!"

Thoughtful and Warm-Loving

So, I asked my boy friend (notice how I separated boyfriend into two words) how he'd describe me if someone ever asked him to and he answered with a great deal of pain "mmm...Athletic Build...mmm 5ft 4in and Brunette". Wow! He just described every Lesbian, I know. And when I began to give him grief about my description, he whined. "What??? I said you were beautiful." Whatever Fucker! I thought to myself. I wanted to be described as Creative, Thoughtful and Warm-Loving...not a wanted criminal. You freakin' idiot! And just for the record...I'm 5ft 2in! Moron! After I lashed him with my heated thoughts, I batted my tiny eyelashes and replied in a "girly girl" voice "I'm a very Thoughtful and Warm-Loving person, honey. I utilize both sides of my brain, therefore, I'm both Creative and Analytical...A rare breed." He didn't say a word, but I heard every colorful thought that stumbled across his tiny, little one-sided brain. And, I had to agree with him. I'm a Crazy Bitch with multiple personalities...hence, the two-sided brain. But, I'm a Thoughtful and Warm-Loving Crazy Bitch, or he wouldn't be here.

The Fear

I Walked to the Pier...
Inhaled the Silence...
And Exhaled the Fear.

I walked to the Pier...
Stood there in Silence...
Showing no Fear.

I Walked to the Pier...
Embracing the Silence...
Discarding the Fear.

I Walked to the Pier...
Breaking the Silence...
Killing the Fear.

Hey, Kevin

After reading your latest "Default" blog. I truly think your calling is with Acting and not Writing. To me, you have always appeared to be living in the moment...riding...running...hiking, etc. But, I feel I may have just stumbled upon the fact that you are always keeping busy, because you fear life. You fear intimacy, responsibility and failure. You run to run away from life...you ride to feel something other than pressure and stress. And I think you hike to feel a sense of accomplishment by conquering physical levels of difficulty. Your writings contain so many questions without ever finding an answer. But, You can't ever find an answer if you never look (live) for one. You claim to seek Truth, but in all actuality, you keep it behind you. You are always one step ahead of it. Intimacy is scary, but its so selfless. It's a form of communication on so many levels. You have to stick around to listen and embrace. Responsibility is scary, but it is such a confidence booster. It puts you in a rank of answers, therefore building you into a person of wealth. Lastly, no one wants to fail, but, how will you succeed if you don't fail. You have to try...you have to step up to the plate...you have to live.
Be responsible for yourself...fix your foundation and "Default" will never pertain to you. It'll just be another word and not a place.


Luv

Louie

Savior

Savior of the Mystic Garden
How Dare you Fall Asleep
How Dare you Visit other Worlds
Without my Soul to Keep

Heartless Creature of Thyne Self
Lipid Fool of Laughter
Cease the Cross Bow Word of Fire
Just Above the Rafter

Harvest in your Heart of Hearts
Platinum and Gold
Undermine the Demons Wrath
Never Dare to Boast

Weeping Soul of Bitter Grit
Fumble Not your Words
Manipulate the Heart at Rest
Deep Within the Curse

Soldier Through the Veil of Truth
Soldier Through the Pain
Dare to Live Another Day
Dare to Live in Vain

Savior of the Mystic Garden
How Dare You Fall Asleep
How Dare You Visit other Worlds
Without My Soul to Keep

Texas Sioux Step

Intensity unravels
Succumbed to the shame
You are my master
Sequestered by the pain

Dare to be different
Chivalry has died
Cater to the lonely
Stripped of their pride

Dangerous liasons
Wrong key in hand
Drowning in the moment
Chewing on the sand

I am the thorn
Recovering from change
Recovering from chaos
Recovering from pain

Bring in the martyr
Aftermath be gone
Carry on the slaughter
Where did I go wrong?

While you were sleeping
Passion ate my soul
He ate my inner beauty
And wouldn't let it go

Now, I stand empty...
Innards out for sale
I dared to be different
Cursing alpha male
I dared to be free
Inhaling with the stars
I dared to be wiser
Even, when on Mars

Bring back the gitty
Bring back my heart
Bring back everything
I sold to Beauregard

Hey, Kevin

While you're out Running and Hiking, the talentless Blue Collared Puppets slave away in the sun wearing the same ol' non-breathable, starchy uniforms from the day before and even, the day before that. Their stench precedes them, while they habitually attempt to remove grease and grime from their over callused, sun-damaged skin.

While you're out Joking and Stroking, the stuffy White Collared dumbasses continuously re-arrange their non-existent butt cheeks to alleviate the pain from their stress inflated, hemarroidal colons. Steppin' out into a Musk-filled Mens Room is probably the only exercise they get...ruling out the occassional drunken romp at the Motel 6. Driving to and from the corner Jack-in-the-Box is usually the only scenery they encounter, until the argument at home leads them straight to the neighborhood "Cooter House" where Mortgage Monies and Marriage Vows get tied up in lil' Candy's G-string.

So, the next time you're out and about Rock Climbing, Mountain Biking and gettin' your groove on, think about the "stinky guy" with no purpose...think about the "schmuck" secretly buying butt cream-n-lap dances from a "trailer park" hussy named Destiny. You are part of an elite group who have been blessed beyond your neighbors dreams. Embrace your talent and follow your true "Destiny".

Luv,

Louie

"Dumbass"

As I rode down the busy streets of S.A. with "Stone Cold", I questioned his driving ability and his mental health, aloud. I asked him who would be dumber...a person who repeats the same stupid activity over and over again, or a person who does a variety of stupid things. His reply was a person who repeats the same stupid activity over and over again. My first thought was "Damn! I've been with the same stupid guy for over 10 years?" But, what I said was "Damn! 10 years! I've been putting up with the same stupid shit for 10 years?" He frowned with disappearing lips and spoke with his sexy voice. "What in the Hell are you talking about?" I replied, with an endearing smile, "I am a Dumbass! Everyday, I ride with you it's the same freakin' thing. You speed up to a slow ass car and slamm on your freakin' breaks! We can never move over, because everyone that has witnessed your "barney" move has refused to allow your "dumbass" back into traffic. You have habitually repeated this freakin' move for over 10 years! The ironic part of this whole freakin' situation is that I have sat in the same freakin' passenger seat for over 10 freakin' years putting up with the same freakin' shit over and over again, therefore, making me the biggest "dumbass" of all". I don't have a speech prepared, but I accept this freakin' "Dumbass" Award on behalf of my poor economic status, hot-tempered wit and wharped sense of humor.

Sue a.k.a. "Dumbass"

Hey, Kevin

Hey Kevin,

Let go of the past...deal with the present and stay strong for the future. You are a gorgeous, healthy young writer with the world at your feet. You can write yourself in and out of anything you desire. Which means you can also talk yourself into and out of anything you so desire. The average person lacks your lottery winning attributes. You and your fair lady Katrina have been breaking up for about a year, now. If it wasn't meant to be...it wasn't meant to be. She sounds like a wonderful woman and it sounds like she'll always be in your life at some time or another. The only thing that is changing in your life is your address. I think the change is making you feel ancy and you feel the need to run instead of truly dealing with the hand dealt to you. I mean no disrespect and I genuinely empathize with you, but you have sooooooooo much going for you. Women (including myself) would kill for you. Men would kill just to walk in your shoes for a day or two. Stop asking what it is that you want and start reaching out to people that love you. Help them...help you. Sure, further your education. Take online courses. But once you step forward to help someone(other than C-Bone), I think your life will take a turn towards a brighter and healthier light. The dark hole will cease to exist. Life as you've craved will take flight.

Luv

Louie

Rage!!!

I tire...of being Me
A mere carcass in the Sea
A carcass in my Devil's Eye
A carcass with a Fee

Passion!
Be my friend!
Come!
Let me be!
I want not revenge!
But...hypocracy to cease!

Stop the Press!
Cut the Plastic!
Who else do I know?
I want Fantastic!
I want the Mind!
I want the Face!
I want the Body!
Wrapped in Lace.
Anyone Game?
Show your Face!
Take the Plunge!
Ignore your Fate.
Bring the Chair!
And the Stage!
I want your Lust!
Filled with Rage!
Take my Dance...
Turn the Page...
Turn the Corner...
Smell the Rage!
Release your Toxins!
And your Shame!
Release your Morals!
From which you Came!
Dare...to Lose!
Dare...to Be!
Dare...to Capture...Eternity!

A Dose of Reality

As a middle-aged woman, I enjoy washing my face of dirt, tears and make-up. Soap should be advertised with the angle that it is truly a pain reliever. Water alone relieves nothing, but add a little soap and you've changed your whole outlook on a tired situation. It removes dirt from the skin, pain from the heart and salty tears from a once colorful face...and it does it with a clean scent of hope.

Night-cream on the other hand, polishes the skin for a brand new beginning. It preps and moisturizes the skin for new pollution, brighter make-up and unwanted tears. Every night I shower, bad thoughts, silly dreams and poor choices trudge down a clogged drain. But, when I apply night-cream, it gives me a sense of hope for a brand new beginning with a much younger and fresher face. But then morning creeps up with Roosters in sync, and I am faced with the same ole face. New age spots peek out from under what optimists call "laugh lines" and I don't look any younger. Nothing has changed. I'm still the same ole middle-aged woman with the same ole drama I had the day before and the day before that. My heart still aches...My mind still wanders and my ass still shakes when I don't want it to. Night-cream is merely a new beginning to a nightly ritual middle-aged women...like myself are eager to partake in... to be something we no longer are...young and beautiful. (I think I need a shrink.)

Keeping it real!

Sioux

"Cloud 9"

Have you ever walked on water or drifted into a cosmic state of oblivion? Well, I have. O.K., maybe I haven't walked on water, but I am in the most glorious cosmic state of oblivion ever reached by a sub-genius dreamer. I'm a certified dork a.k.a. "goober"...a gullible geek a.k.a. "dumb ass" and last, but not least a fly by the seat of my pants kind of gal a.k.a. "crazy bitch". Therefore...I am a triple threat to all of society's fallen members. I lack morals, character and have no back-bone. I'm a dumb blob of smiles. I'm loathable, yet loveable and I'm gliding on "Cloud 9". My adventure seeker n soul mate has made his presence quite vivid and has agreed to share some time with this incomprehensible ego-maniac...me. I...can't...wait! My mind is filled with dream and thought. Hope lingers in the depths of insanity. I welcome any insatiable cross-examiner with dark eyes and a sharp tongue. I am Woman! Hear My Roar! To be continued...

Once, Again

As kids, my brother, Rudy and I were always looking for excitement. We had three other brothers and sisters, but they just weren’t that exciting. So, every chance we had, Rudy’s plastic GI Joe figures were battling in the tub, covered in mud or flying through the air from an over grown Pecan Tree. We did everything together, except strip my dolls of their lame and boring outfits, remove their limbs and toss them into the air only to land in his freshly dug mud puddles. He’d sneak that in while I helped mom clean the house. Poor dolls…they never had a chance. Their blonde polyester hair looked dirty no matter what I did. We didn’t have videos and video games, back then. Our fun was extremely limited. If it didn’t involve water, we were definitely bored. But, when our cousin, Priscilla came into town to stay with her loud and crazy grandmother…our Great Aunt Della…things would make a turn for the river. Aunt Della lived in a tiny white house covered in dirt that sat comfortably on a riverbank “smack” in the middle of the big city of San Anton’. She drove a brand new Cadillac every year and filled it with stray dogs from all over the city. And every time she drove up to her tiny mud stained house, dogs of all breeds would jump out of their steel luxury ride and corner anyone in their sight as the circus music blared from their huge, shiny roadster. But…we had to be there. Rudy and I had to be a part of my cousins’ strange and colorful world. Anywhere, but home meant excitement.
“Fill up the dog bowls!” “Bring in the water hose!” “Pick up the trash!” “Scoop up the poop!” she’d yell. It went on and on and on. And just when we wished we were back at home…the fun would begin. “You kids are in my way”, she’d mumble. “Why don’t you all go down to the river and fish for a while?” “Yes, maaam!” we‘d squeal, as we slid down the rocky- riverbank. Once we were in that river, the rest of the world would disappear. We were in our world and nothing else mattered. The mud under our shoes was all squishy. The fish that swam by our tiny legs were all slimy. And the worms that we dug up were always bigger than the last. We were in Heaven. Our poorly designed fishing poles made from found sticks and tattered string never, once, pulled up a single fish. They’d become barricades marking off our worm infested, turtle floatin’, frog hoppin’ territories. And the only thing that could scare us out of the water…were snakes. Deadly Water Moccasins hid in our small forts and swam by our pruney-skinned bodies as the Angels from Heaven watched over us. We remained unharmed and unscathed by the rivers natural wildlife. But, when it was time to crawl out of our muddy haven, smiles dropped, eyelids hung and the stench of the river would erupt. We stank like “Nobody’s Bizness”. We definitely needed a good scrubbin’. And, back then there was no such thing as anti-bacterial soap, but who needed soap when Aunt Della had a good old-fashioned water hose to hose us down with.
I can still hear her screaming at us from the back porch as she made a beeline towards our guilt-written bodies. “Hey! Get out of that water!” “You’re supposed to be fishing!” “No one gave you permission to go into the water!” “No! No! No!” “You had no business going into that water!” “No business!” “Are you a “goody, goody” or a “baddy, baddy?” she’d ask with squinting eyes. I’d reply, “a baddy, baddy” with a pout ridden face and a low hangin’ head. Rudy would laugh, while Priscilla pinched her already thin lips, together…rolled her eyes and sashayed back into the house. Even as a kid, I knew her stench went way beyond the smell of fish. “Listen” Aunt Della said with a crooked, over worked finger and a paralyzing glare. “Go call your mother…and tell her…to tell your father…to come and pick you and your brother up.” And just like that…the party was over. Aunt Della was angry…we stank like dead fish… and Dad… was on his way. Our fate usually lay in an old and tattered, somewhat black, leather belt that choked my dad’s 34” waist…everyday. We knew it as…an “ass whoopin”. Today…it’s Child Abuse.
Aunt Della owned an Army Surplus Store that wreaked of old, Army material often serving as a litter box for big fat rodents. Every time we made a family trip to her store…hard, back breaking work was sure to follow. My Summers’ included moving canoes, oars, tents, sleeping bags and tires. Rudy’s Summers’ included separating belt buckles, canteens, and pocket knives. If, I…could lift it…we moved it. And if Aunt Della couldn’t see through it…we cleaned it. Windex was definitely my… “right hand man”. We have, since…split up. Rudy and I made a little bit of money, but even as a couple of poor kids from the “bad” side of town, it just wasn’t worth roughing it in that nasty, dirty store. We hated working there, but I think we knew it kept the river door open.
Looking back, it was kind of a small price to pay for the greatest seats on earth. During Fiesta week, we were given “prime” window seats…highly desirable…clean…window seats. She would allow our entire family to come and watch the Battle of Flowers Parade from her store windows. Mom bought the toilet paper…Aunt Della provided the beer… and gobs of sodas. The only downfall was utilizing the “dungeonous” bathroom. It was cold. It was wet. And boy…was it scary. The concrete walls cried 24/7. The swinging light bulb zapped on and off due to a well-known, yet, highly ignored electrical short. And the big fat rats loved to say hello while you relieved yourself. Screaming wasn’t an option, though…and neither was peeing in your pants, or you’d have to deal with dad…and…no one…wanted to deal with dad. We preferred his gut, choking strap of leather on…his pants…not ours. And, yet, we continued to chug down the tooth decaying liquid. Go figure. There were only two, well organized forces that had the power to cease our madness…street cleaners and pooper- scoopers. This meant the parade was over as well as the battle between mind and bladder. My crazy outspoken Aunt Della blessed us with sodas, window seats and lifelong memories. Fiesta week was definitely a “goody, goody”. Thank You, Aunt Della.
Aunt Della baked and cooked with what Hispanics call “carino”. And she always did it with several dogs roaming, fighting and sleeping under her feet. She was never alone. At times it looked as though she was talking to herself, but we’d soon find out that she was talking to or reprimanding one of her strays. She loved each and every one of them furry rascals…more than any human being alive. I didn’t know it, back then, but those damn dogs were her true family. They were her life. She needed them just as much as they needed her. She was a crazy old lady as far as my brother and I were concerned…a crazy old lady… that didn’t like kids. The only reason we were allowed to go over was to keep my cousin, Priscilla busy…A spoiled brat with no sense of humor and no sign of a heart. Rudy and I didn’t like her, very much, but we liked the change of scenery she was a part of. We loved the river and all of its’ danger. We worshiped Aunt Della’s pooch filled Cadillac, and never forgot the fun-filled moments we had in our window seats.
All grown up with a family of my own is when I really started to appreciate my Great Aunt Della. She was hard and callused, but she loved my mom more than she was willing to admit. They were buddies, confidants and really good friends. They watched Spurs Games…drank beer…and got drunk. They watched Cowboys games…drank beer…and got drunk. But, most of all they became really close…drank beer …and laughed till they peed in their pants. And when my mom had to move away…sadness moved in. My Aunt Della lost her friend…her last remaining strays and her immediate family lived too far away to visit. I was asked to step in and help her out a little. So, I ran a few errands, did some yard work and really started to get to know my Great Aunt Della. I never planned on loving that crazy old bird, but I found myself learning so much about her life and understanding why she was so callused. At the young age of 16, she had two young daughters, no husband and no money. She found her way into the business world and worked her ass off…a single mother living in a man’s world. How did she do it? What gave her the will? Respect was too small a word for what I felt. She was amazing. Aunt Della was able to provide for her children, rescue dogs and run successful businesses. She gave her children everything she never had. Unfortunately, her family never gave back. They didn’t have time for her, and they always found a reason to fight with her, but she always had my mom. It was my mother who wiped her drool, brushed her hair and rubbed her back, while she lay in that awful nursing home. It was my mother who gave her time, her heart and her prayers when no one else would. It was my mother who cried for her safety, her wellness and her sadness as Aunt Della drifted towards the gates of Heaven. Aunt Della had a huge, ungrateful family who couldn’t wait for her to die. She tried to hang on, again and again…but… her body eventually gave out. I don’t know where she is, exactly, but I can still feel her strength. As I write these thoughts, salt filled tears are racing down my pale and tired face. But, it’s only because I know she wasn’t ready to go. She was alone in a terrible, unfamiliar place and she couldn’t wait to go home. I wish I could have saved her and kept her here a little longer. I wish I had done things differently and I hate that she would escape my mind. My prayers go out to her soul and out to my mamas’ heart. I know my Aunt Della won’t rest, until she has my mama by her side…once, again.

Love,

Sue