Juno

So have you seen Juno? 

Well it has performances in it that challenge expectations. 

It challenges types and challenges preconceived notions. 

Singing?

Hooray!  It ends with a song.

 

Why end with tears when a well placed song will do the soul much nicer?

Perhaps most things should.

A heavenly distraction from writing. 

Conversations with Lovers

“That was fantastic.” He said for the second time.
“Mmmm.” She agreed.
“It’s been too long.”
“Mmm. Do you have any Kleenex?”
He handed her the box next him. She removed three and proceeded to tidy herself up. Finished, she balled up the spent Kleenex in her fist and held it for future disposal. They lay there in the quiet of the bedroom.
“That was amazing.”
“You said that already.” She smiled. “Water?”
He reached to his bedside table once again and grabbed the bottle of water. He took a long sip and passed the bottle on. She drank and then played with the cap – tightening and loosening, tightening and loosening.
“It was good for you right?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know. You just seem so…” He thought for a moment. “A little distant or something.”
She stopped playing the lid game.
“I’m right here? Not distant.”
“So you’re not mad?’
“No why?” She sounded agitated. She was.
“You just seem a little ‘not there’ or something.”
“We just had sex. What more do you want? Stop being paranoid.”
Should I tell her now? He thought to himself. He opted for anger instead.
“There’s nothing paranoid about it!” He blurted. “It’s an observation. I’m allowed to have them right?”
Damn. He thought. She knows.
“For a guy who just got laid…” She didn’t repeat the obvious. She sat up in bed and scanned the floor for her underwear.
“Where are you going?”
“Nothing.” She didn’t look at him. With her underwear on, she turned to him. “Have you seen my phone?”
“No.”
“I hear it ringing. Where the fuck is my phone?”
“Who Cares? We’ll find it later.”
“No. I need my phone now.”
“But I wanted to talk about something.”
“I don’t have time for that.” She was half dressed and walking in and out of the room searching for her phone.
Just say it. He thought to himself. Blurt it out. Say something.
For the first time she seemed to notice him.
“What’s with you?”
This is your chance.
“Nothing.” He backed down. “When will you…”
“Found it! Fuck!” The phone had stopped ringing. She scrolled threw the missed numbers.
“Fuck.” She repeated. “I have to go.”
“Okay.” Was all he could say.
She finished dressing and left the room dialing a number. He heard her head down the stairs and out the front door. He went to the window to watch her leave but saw that she was standing on the lawn in front yelling into phone. He wanted to call out to her, to say goodbye. He opened the window only to hear:
“Well I just fucked someone too. Does that make you happy?”
A passing bus drowned out the rest.

Lament

He woke up blue one bright morning.
His car broken, he travelled by bus.

Notes from The Instructor

Vanity is getting in the way of his writing.
He needs to be less concerned with writing poorly and focus on writing.
He felt his writing didn't breathe. The sentences were a "little tight."
He is not allowing time to write.
He needs to relax.
He needs to be selfish with his writing.
He needs to find another 8 hours in the week.

November

With cardiganed shoulders he shrugged at the coming winter.
He thought of the grass.
Blades of green under snow.
Lovers beneath crisp white sheets.

The Class Project on 8.5x11

- 911. What's your emergency?

"Hi, I seem to have a problem. I think I'm in trouble."

- Sir are you in danger?

"I think so. If not, danger is imminent. It's unlike any kind of pain I've experienced."

- Can you tell me what is wrong?

"Well, it's..."

-Sir?

"I think I'm in love."

- You think or you are?

"I....Think...in...Love."

-Hold on sir. A crew is on it's way.

"I"ll be waiting."

The Latest from a Four-Year-Old.

"I'm going to be a mommy."

--Uh-huh.

"I'm going to have a baby."

(Pause)

"I think I'll stay in the hospital for 3 days."

--Whatever you'd like

"I think I'll just stay for two. Until I'm feeling better."

From the Mouth of the Hollister Greeter

Hey there do you wear Hollister jeans?
We've got some awesome styles. They're in the back.
You should check 'em out.


(awesome)

Thanksgiving

"I'm in a giving mood,
and it's my turn to give." She said.
"What shall I receive?" He said
"My body." She said.
"Happy Thanksgiving." He said.
"Enjoy me." She said
"Hold still." He said

The Best Thing He Heard from a Gay Celeb.

"He's so gay, when he coughed twelve cocks fell out of his mouth."

My Peculiar Aristocratic Title is: Count-Palatine Munro the Funereal of Piddletrenthide Under Booth Get your Peculiar Aristocratic Title

a six word story (with thanks to TRH)

The Nurse came. He was cured.

a lark

hand in hand,
skin on skin,
mouth to mouth,
what lovely sin.

September

Take off that periwinkle dress.
Darlin', replace those blues with red.
Choose passion to undress
those clouds inside your head.

From the Department of 'Can't get there from here'.

"We ain't got nothing 'til we get something."

- American Tourist at Saint Lawrence Market.

Great Book Titles: Pt 1.

Honey, I've left you for the dead!

(A love story?)

The Nose Knows

She was over him. The relationship was done.
She was sure of it the day she noticed that that
she didn't like the way he smelled.
Something had changed.
Lovers have scents.
Ex-lovers have odours.

Sylvia Plath at the Bed and Bath

(painted on the wall of the home supply superstore)

"- There must be quite a few things that a hot
bath won't cure - but I don't know many of them."


(I wonder what she should have said about the kitchen.)

Totally Actual Teenage Poetry

Love is a four letter word.
Take heed, it hurts.
For as I was told,
and as I believe,
if it hurts,
you are in love.
Follow that hurt until your heart explodes.

The Lonliness of the Long Distance Lover

He came with eager delight.
Her name upon his lips,
His mind all over her body.

With Regards to William Carlos Williams (sorry - no chickens)

Up Against the Wall and in a Hole with 1000 Knives

He had writer's block but that was the least of his problems. He awoke that Monday morning and attempted to look for the right metaphor - The one he had lost earlier.

It was a lost cause.

Until later in the day when he found it underneath the morning paper in the kitchen.

It read:
"He was a fish trapped in a barrel. "

Sadness fell upon him when he realised that he was lost.
He was just all mixed up.

Another View

"Touch your toes." he said.
"But why?" she said.
"There are things I want to see." he said.
"Another view of you."
"What will you do with it?" she said.
"Indulge." he said.
"Very well." she said.

"What do you see?" she said.
"Aaah" he said.

The Best Thing He Heard from a 4-year-old.

"You know I had a dream about mermaids, pirates and princesses?"

(pause)

"It was a great dream."

Her Short Sad Story

She was desperate to conceive. She read the books, she made charts and she timed the moon. She consulted the best doctors - fertility, herbal, holistic, general. They prodded, they poked, they mixed and they injected. They told her there was no hope. The conclusion by all was that she was barren.

She was crushed as she left her final appointment.

That was when it occurred to her; she had not had sex with her husband in two years.

The sad part was she hadn't noticed.

A New York Moment

Her Biography

"Tell me your stories." he said.

"I'll do you one better." she said.

"I'll show you my scars."

"I'm listening." he said.

Witnessed Text Message on the Interactive TV Station Punch Much

I love Darren
so much
he is my life.

dini76


(I'm sorry?)

Awful Beginnings to Unfinished Novels (a work of fiction)- Part 1.

1. Every evening he drank a little bit beyond his limit to dull the pain of his mediocre life.

2. "Don't touch it!" She yelled, "I think it's moving."

3. Call me Master Killer. It's what I do and what I do well.

4. Damn. That girl certainly was fine.

5. The last time I spoke with my mother was the worst time or the best time of my life. I'm not sure why...perhaps it had something to do with my upbringing, or maybe it was my father.

A Short Sad Story

His day had started poorly.
He woke up.

The Best thing he heard from the Girlfriend of a Metal Fan

Karen: I can't tell the difference between Cannibal Corpse & Cryptopsy.

Of Course.

The best thing he read today from a long lost friend reunited on facebook: a true story

I checked out your blog and thoroughly enjoyed it. I didn't comment on anything while on the web page nor do I have time to comment in detail now, exept to say that its great and I hope you keep going with it. I laughed my ass off and could hear your voice. I hope you continue to feel the inspiration to write, as well as share it with the rest of us on your blog.

Famous Biography Titles: Pt 1.

• Beyonce: You don't Know about Me
• Destiny's Child: Our Life is too Bootylicious
• Kelly Rowland: Tales from my adventures with a Bootylicious group.
• Michelle Williams: I'm a Survivor
• Kelly Rowland: What you don't know about the other two bitches.
• Michelle Williams: I hate Beyonce and here's why.
• Kelly Rowland: I could have been Beyonce.
• Kelly & Michelle: What about us?

Today's Horoscope

With Venus exiting your chart and Uranus about to enter a new phase, it is important to ask: What the hell is wrong with you? Seriously. Take your head out of your anus and go and apologise. It was your fault and you did create that error that caused so many people awkward discomfort. It is time to face facts; it was all you. Nobody should act that way at the office. You did it, now own it. Damn what does it take to get through to you? Plus you should perhaps reconsider what you said last night, it hurt her feelings and for what purpose? Did you get pleasure out of making her that uncomfortable? Here's a tip - most women are not into threesomes and buddy, face it, you're lucky you could get just one woman to sleep with you. Keep this up and it'll be a lifetime of onesomes for you. How about some flowers? The good kind - not those crap carnations you keep getting from that creepy guy on the corner who screams "Impeach Jesus!" all the time. Well, that's about it for today. Try not to screw this day up but it is your life. One last thing: Call your mother. Oh and don't take public transit.

The Receipt

"That's it!" She said. "It's over."

Then she handed him a piece of paper.

"What's this?" He asked.

"It's your receipt." She replied.

"My what?"

"Your receipt for our relationship."

"My what?" He was rightfully confused however the question came too late. She had walked away leaving him holding all that was left of his most recent relationship.

He asked aloud: "What am I supposed to do with this?"

A stranger overheard the desperate question. "Go to the address. The one on the receipt."
Surprised he confronted the stranger. "You know what this is?"

The stranger smiled compassionately and said "Just go to the address."

Depressed and with little else to do, due to his recently cancelled plans, he went to the address.

After a short walk he entered a government building. Viewing the building's tenant listings he saw the office he was looking for. In bold 3-d lettering was:

DEPARTMENT OF BREAK-UPS - Third Floor.

On the third floor he was greeted by a queue of long faced men and women. Quietly he joined the solemn and waited his turn. When it came, he was greeted by by a clerk with a sympathetic smile and a bureaucratic understanding of his needs. She asked for the receipt and then
excused herself. She returned holding a plain cardboard box. The clerk handed him the box, asked him to sign a form and wished him a nice day.

At home he opened the box. Inside was a bottle of shampoo.

"Shampoo!" He was incredulous. "Shampoo!" He said it again but it did not change the fact that all that was in his box was a simple bottle of shampoo. He was mad. He could not believe that his relationship came down to hair soap.

Disappointed, he placed his relationship back in the box and put the box in a cupboard.

Several months later he found himself in need of some shampoo. Not wanting to go to the store, he remembered his ex-girlfriend. With some lingering resentment he removed the shampoo from its box and declared that it was time to wash his hair with his former relationship. In the shower he read the usage instructions on the bottle. They were:

Apply to wet hair.
Place a small amount in your hand.
Bring to lather in your hair.
Rinse and repeat if necessary.

The next day he would ask the new girl in accounting out on a date.
Her name was Jill.

Poetic thoughts about my lunch today or a complicated metaphor for my feelings on the NFL

I really like gazpacho.
However, after eating a half a bowl,
It begins to taste like
Cold soup.
I really hate cold soup.

bye bye lorelei

And so it ends. perhaps more with a whimper than a bang.
I am talking about Gilmore Girls of course, a show that has been dear to me for the past seven years ( perhaps more - I'm losing count) and has been recently cancelled.

Sadly I'm not surprised. This last season has been a sinking ship of mediocre writing. This is hard for me to say because until this year, Gilmore Girls has consistently been the best written show on TV.

Week after week they kept the quality high.

Now I'm low.

Oh wait:



Things I have never done before:

Bought and sold a house.
Purchased a brand new car.
Hired a criminal lawyer.
Had tea with the Queen.

Oh well 3 out of Four ain't bad.


I have never blogged before. This is strange as i am not sure to whom I am writing this to or for.

Perhaps I'll just remain scattered for awhile.

I'm pondering karma.

oh and criminal lawyers.

I will start with a greeting.

hello.