Arthur

I left my workspace a couple nights ago to use the ladies room. Wearily, the door scooted open and I was about to take my place upon my throne. To this day I am still shocked and very very appalled at what I saw: A cockroach the size of a mouse was guarding the toilet. Now, ordinarily I would try to squish or scare off the offending insect. Mind you, the size is what brought me to my senses. I saw the wing. That's all I am saying. Would I rather it flying at me in a closed space, or it just minding it's own business? I followed the latter, hoping against all hope that it would not decide to explore my leg. I lucked out.

Before I left for the day I utilized the facilities one more time. Arthur was gone. (I named him Arthur, although I feel that that's what he would've wanted) I prayed for the best, maybe he crawled back into the wall? After all, I did talk to him for a bit, it was the only way I could cope with having something that large sit next to me while I was indisposed.

The next night I came back to work without a thought of Arthur. I figured the cleaning crew had destroyed him. (Perhaps he would be upset to find out that the Dow Jones dropped? He did make mention of his following of the stocks) All the worry cleared away when I saw him in his usual position, except a little further in the shadows. I bid him good evening, and I took my usual place. His Antennae quivered; I crossed my fingers with all the hope in the world that he would not take off. Whew. He remained.

To this day I am not sure what happened to Arthur, but I wish him happy travels and all the garbage in the world.

Hip Hop Material girl Part II

I wonder how many lives were lost prior to reading this sign.
I knew that I had forgotten something. My cat suit always gets left behind.


The rink had an intimadating calm, but I was ready for it. Songs from Top 40 radio came annoyingly present. Finally, my request for Material girl had been answered; my leather boots vanished and Fisher Prices replaced them. 1986 felt so real, even if it were for only four minutes and thirteen seconds.

My lucid reminescing had come to an end, it was time to return to civilian life. I was just glad that I followed the rules and left my tube top and cat suit at home.

My sister was anxious to get her skates off, her dogs were barkin'. Although I will say that the scent my shoes had given the locker sort of had me thinking that we should just abandon our belongings. The price of new shoes was much cheaper than the loss of my third sense. Unfortunately she did not heed my advice. She held her nose and scrambled her things together. We left as changed people, she promised to never share a locker with me again.

14 miles a day

Friday started out like any normal day does. I decided to get a new tire for my car, the old one was finished with standing the test of time. $80 later, my new addition beamed from the pollution incrusted vehicle. Feeling pretty spectacular, I figured I should do the spark plugs as well. I took my platinum (the only thing that makes my car high class) spark plugs with the required tools out to the parking lot. My stepdad and his keen timing called to let me know that I should wait until the engine cooled down. I heeded the advice, only to see Seth's head outside after an hour. I pursued while questioning his travels. He popped the hood of my car, then inspected the emgine. Feeling that the engine was a wee bit warm, I beckoned him to the door. He shrugged me off, then proceeded with the removal. One loud crack later brandished a broken spark plug. A loud crack is common with the changing, but something didn't look right.

A call to the parents assured that notion. We had a broken spark plug on our hands. Things were starting to look pretty ugly. The solution for now after a tireless argument was that I was to ride my bike to work. All 14 miles, round trip. I initially though nothing of this. I actually wanted to start riding to work, but my opportunity came faster than I thought it would.
After one hellish night of riding a bike with one peddle, I awoke the same day with a mission. I hiked up to Kmart, bought a nice Huffy mountain bike. On sale too! Nice! I thought that I would have this ride made; all flat, no real big hills. Nice new bike. Unfortunately, incorrect. The ride to work was no big deal, but the morning bike ride was sure to destroy me. Crying seemed like the only viable solution. Or calling Seth so he could walk to me and carry me home. All things made perfect logical sense. But I trudged on. I made it home, only to feel the tears. I couldn't believe it; I was finally home! My building never looked so good.
A hot bath was ordered, topped off with some epsom salt and gingerbread bubble bath. I emerged, feeling my essence slowing returning. I surrendered to my bedroom escape. Engulfed with blankets, I felt dread slowly creep in. Realizing that I had to make the same trek in 12 hours, I slid my face mask over and made the sandman do my bidding.

The Legal arm of Satan

I felt a presence, one that could convert a protestant. My mind raced, heart slowing down. Kenneth Copeland has struck again. People vote for God, not politics. Make sure "In God We Trust" is plastered on our increasingly worthless currency. This land was founded on God, that's why we're stinking "rich". South America was founded on greed. That's why they're miserable. I couldn't believe when I heard that. Televangelists have all the answers. If only they weren't so misleading. They continue to protest for family values, even when it has become an oxymoron. Devoting your life to an idea rather than analyze life yourself is essential. The world was made in six days, the state of Kentucky would like you to believe. Evolution is blasphemy.

What frustrates me is that people accept this without questioning. How can we evolve when half of our species continues to believe that the world is flat?

hip-hop material girl part I

One place my sister and I refuse to admit has expired in "coolness" is the roller rink. A stop at the classy rink in Glendale a few weekends back invigorated my love of the Lucite wheel. The used and much loved boot felt snug and unapologetic.

He is the keeper of the rules, dress code, and overall machismo.

She was about to make a choice that would affect the rest of her afternoon.

Tequila blood bath dance

Smashed, I dance around on slices of broken ceramics. A pulpy mixture that was once my feet and a bottle of cuervo make their new home on the floor. My toes, newly webbed, decide it’s time. I drew a bath, one that reminded me of a hot day in Minnesota. Humid and pretentious. The knob had a new look that I thought I had seen else where. Ten seconds crawled by and home depot came out of the shadows. They have great faucets there. Refreshment swept over my new modification; and the water felt like home. Splashing around induced an impulse: I swiped the orange soap and slathered it all over my new fins. I contemplated a lesson in scuba but I think snorkeling is way more my cup a tea. Unraveling the day, most fantastical moments come to mind. A great martian once told me, paop yeor paiants. Alet. No idea what it meant, still don’t. It’s a great conversation starter. I am still hoping for the day I tell someone and they respond excitedly back, “that means…!!!!” So far, no dice. Still wondering…

Fandango?

Pus, lots pus. Rice krispies are a bad idea in the mid day, especially followed by voodoo. Leonard and I hit the road for a long day of backpacking and abcessed teeth. Assured by the rotten taste, the pedal eased beneath my pinkie toe. A glance at the map; taffy seemed like a suitable splint. The laffy variety. Only that would do. The jokes was what kept us alive; that was what we would tell all of our friends once we returned safely. It seems like they don’t make tangy taffy anymore, only laffy. The next encounter was a dirty quick stop with a hot little air pump on the side. Leonard stuttered indecencies under his breath. It was between him and Vishnu. Most things were. A once over the candy rack, I spied a tangy and a laffy taffy in close proximity. On closer inspection, the logos that were used appeared to be the same!? I felt a fool, perhaps betrayed even. Textures so close, but those jokes; they proved the difference between Vietnam and Iraq. Leonard came out of a coma due to those smutty tomfooleries. I was not going to allow him to fall back into that same k-hole. After my disgression at the quick stop, we went further away from the land we knew. Feverish conversations followed; a tampon with googly-eyes and an impish mouth was hanging out on the shoulder. Feeling a stare from leonard, I swerved to the side. A worried expression followed, but I continued to leer at the hitchhiking tampon. A rust stain on his upper shoulder told me he was no good.