The peculiar thing about alcoholism is you watch yourself drowning, you look at the life raft to your left, but instead swim into the open ocean.
I down this bottle of wine, I don’t know how to feel but I don’t mind the buzz.
As the night slips by, you look more and more like someone I could love.
The kids are not “witnesses,” they are kids.
One duck was never going to be enough.
I just really felt that needed to be said
Someone offered to buy my Bird-In-Hand for 3 in-the-bush, citing recent inflation values, and the likely hood that they will only rise over the next fiscal year.
I have no idea about attachment parenting because I was too busy visually replacing that woman on the cover of Time Magazine with Loni Anderson in her red bathing suit and the little boy with my teenage self and about then my brain completely stopped working.
Steven flipped back and forth in his Big Handbook of Dream Interpretation but he was unable to find out what it meant that he’d dreamed his penis grew very large.
There may be something on this earth better than a chocolate covered macadamia nut, but I’ve yet to find it.
Last night I renewed my vow to at least visit Mt. Everest base camp if I can’t actually climb the damn mountain before I die.
Watered with spit and no longer glossy, just damp in their mossy, tombstone-like decay.
I was raised by goats… or at least drinking gallons and gallons of nice, rich, healthy goats’ milk.
Sipping coffee outside at dawn on a cool summer morning is to me the perfect combination of a few very simple things.
A little while ago, I started to wonder if I was becoming jaded, but now I just don’t care all that much.
“The wild things roared their terrible roars and gnashed their terrible teeth and rolled their terrible eyes and showed their terrible claws but Max stepped into his private boat and waved good-bye.”
As inspired by: Maurice Sendak
As she leant against the headstone, Becky called to the Wild Things, once more to dance with them among the jungle trees.
After years of therapy, Lance finally realized that all of his psychological scars traced back to that fateful year when he was 13 and attended Peckerwood Middle School.
Original Henry, official keeper of the minutes at the first “Let’s create Capitalism” meeting, mistakenly writes: Goal One, generate handsome prophets.”
Procrastinator Man literally streaked to the rescue; he’d get dressed later.
Slow but dependable, he moved at the speed of leap year.
I’m not sure I’d do it to my kid, but I’m kind of glad that Jessica Simpson had the balls to name her daughter “Maxwell Drew Johnson.”
Juan to horse-mounted officer: Officer, Sir, I really don’t think you’re in any position to give me a ticket for texting and driving when I clearly observed you crossing the street while texting and riding.
Some days I get really angry about entropy, but eventually the feeling fades.
Yes, I am counting down the days until the youngest child leaves home and the dog dies.
It is no small irony that the GOP loving their red states may have forgotten that prior to 1984 their patron saint, Ronald Reagan, would have considered all shades of red to mean you were an anti-American communist villain, or commie pinko bastard as my dad used to call them.
Rebecca lived the life of the chronically lonely, a woman who’s fantasies about her spiritual nature created inevitable fault finding in the characters and motivations of all her acquaintances and lovers; she was impossible to live with, a fault you will not be surprised to find she placed at the worn feet of others.
In Egypt they’re working on a law that you can have sex up to six hours after you’re dead, but in Arizona they’ve declared that you’re alive two weeks before you’re even conceived.
The house was somnambulant, each joist, each floorboard creaking like the unseen presence of some dry old man shuffling slowly from teapot to easy chair in the humidity of a late summer afternoon.
Last night I dreamt fretfully that I was appointed Samuel Beckett’s official biographer, a rather distressing employment as the only thing I knew was he had written Waiting for Godot, and that he ended a letter in 1936 to his friend MacGreevy (then residing in Dublin) that his “anus had being giving me a good deal of trouble and I still come to the boil out of my sleep”; upon waking I embarked on a collection of his letters that I had stolen from a dusty bookshelf in my psychiatrist’s office hoping that James Joyce onetime errand boy had some insight into my disturbing oedipal issues.
Jake woke up in the mood to have a parade - something he often did on pleasant spring days - but then he saw there was rain in the forecast.
If you find yourself hundreds of years out of synch on Slow Motion Day, there is a good chance you forgot to properly reset your clocks for Daylight Savings Time.
On 300 miles of Interstate 5 through central California navigated at an average of 90mph, I saw exactly two cop cars—one radaring vehicles going the opposite direction and one who’d stopped an old, beat-up minivan, presumably because the driver was guilty of DWB (driving while brown).
Why does it have to be so complicated? he thought as he went over his dream about fake historic manuscripts and the secret Kevin Bacon trick that his subconscious had revealed.
As inspired by: boot's one
‘Leaving?!?!?!’, screamed the monkey at his uncle, who was using his suitcase to try and deflect the poo flung in anger by his unhappy nephew.
Vinegar burned into his skull, as he plotted his foul revenge.
“If ‘to market’ isn’t some sort of euphemism for slaughter, then I’m a monkey’s uncle,” thought Pete as he hurriedly packed his things.
The finest grains of sand seeped between her toes, as she struggled to remember just who and where she was.
“No, this doesn’t mean I’m breaking up with you,” my dog said, “but just to be safe, you might want to break out that bag of cookies you bought last night.”
“In theory,” my dog said, “I could be considered nothing more than a rebound relationship, a replacement for your last dog, but when you consider that I, myself, have lived with not one, but two different humans, then I suppose the same thing might be true of you.”
Taste the tired, late night metal around the sides of my mouth which begs for her - an ache the 49ers must have felt just in front of their soft pallet like a soft fishing hook pulling them West.