The internet has become the modern monster under the bed, filled with widespread scandal and temptations that so many simply cannot handle. It’s a catalyst to distress; it’s the cancerous cyst at the center of human relationships. Continuous phone alerts, overly overt flirts, pumulous perverts…and it only gets worse. Destruction definitely ( Read more... )

I don’t even need to eat spinach to turn myself into the female version of Popeye.  Popped arm muscle and all, with anchor tattoos affixed to my thigh.  Oh my chicken pie!

It occurred on a river flowing fluffy and high.  Rafting and rowing not so gently down the stream.  Merrily though.  Always merrily.  Life primarily being a dream.  But the ( Read more... )

I have many fantasies that begin with flashing blue lights accompanied by a state trooper telling me that I have been driving a bit too fast.  These fantasies usually end with me being bent over the patrol car in handcuffs engaged in all sorts of naughty things, not a written citation requiring a $325 lawyer trip.  And that is exactly what happened ( Read more... )

I used to work in a local ice cream shop where everyone called me Scoop Dog, the gangsta of frozen dairy. And by everyone, I mean me. I even wrote it on my time card. And that made it legit. I carried this pseudo nickname for four years while compiling cones, spinning shakes, and cycling cyclones. It was during this time that I lost my ( Read more... )

Pickled panic pumps from my pulmonary artery all the way to my Hyundai’s empty tankery. Today is Saturday and payday doesn’t come until Monday. Unfortunately, waning fuel fails to empathize with empty wallets. How far will mere giblets of gasoline get me? Each subsequent mile subjects my mind to a nerve-wracking trial. The verdict? Still ( Read more... )

I was shuffled into a portal. High pitched beeps and zeeps zipped and sweeped all about. Arms up. Arms out. Wait for the green light to say it's alright. "Enjoy your flight."

Going home for the holidays always seemed a bit like a trek. Yesterday, I felt like I needed to bundle my hair up into buns around my ears and bust out an antenna or ( Read more... )

I've always stuffed my bra. Between the padded push-up bras, gel inserts, and even the water bra, Victoria Secret has made it possible for grown women to enhance the size of their chest, no surgery required. When I was in college, working at the ice cream store named Jiffy Treet (yes double the e), I couldn't afford fancy stuffed boob sensations ( Read more... )

I never did buy into the idea that the moon was made of cheese. After all, everyone knows cheese originates from milk which is produced from the udder of a cow. And hey, (diddle diddle) cows don’t really jump over the moon. Thus, the chance that the moon actually consisted of cheese-like material was slim. Skim even. This I learned early on. ( Read more... )

Each morning, I squeeze a giant glop of the Dollar Tree’s strawberry-scented hair hydration system into the palm of my right hand.  I’ve never bothered with shaving cream; one dollar conditioner does the job better than any kind of foam-filled slathering lather.   Beginning with the meatiest part of my right thigh, I massage my leg with the ( Read more... )

A few months ago, I contracted a rather unfortunate case of poison oak.  Up until this point in my life, I had not experienced poison anything from any sort of plant life.  Luckily, CalGel solved the problem as I was soon-itch free.  That didn't mean I was in the clear though, because as we all know all bad things occur in threes ( Read more... )