Mr. Porter wanted lasagna so we went into this little Italian joint down by the lake. The decor has not been changed in decades, as evidenced by the stale smoke that hung in the air since 1972. A middle aged man played muzak on a portable organ-like keyboard and occasionally inserted lyrics into the microphone.… More Life is like lasagna
..with me to buy the new Nook. I had to go back home to get it. I used to get upset in these situations; I’m “wasting time”, I didn’t plan ahead, etc. Somehow I knew there would be a reason. The reason was timing. I bought the new Nook at a greatly reduced price,… More I forgot to bring my credit card
Notice the last line on this magazine cover: Eleanor & Park’s Rainbow Rowell. Yes that’s really the author’s name. Here’s the full cover: I picked this up at my local Barnes & Noble about a week ago but I had no time to read it. I set it aside. As you may (or may not)… More I call your attention to this:
A friend of a friend is an artist. She creates “abstract” art, which I guess is the lowest common denominator of the cliché about beauty being in the eye of the beholder. Her art is not my cup of tea (yes another cliché) but what fascinates me is that she has the confidence to put… More What is confidence, and where do I buy some?
Well, that’s not going to happen. I had hoped to buy new sneakers, maybe even two pair, because the two pair I have now are seriously burnt-out. One pair leaks when I walk in the rain, (like today) and the other pair don’t have my required “lift” in the right shoe due to my leg… More I wanted to buy new shoes today.
Queue up the Warren Zevon: Send Lawyers, guns and money. We’re buying a house. Even Steven King would not be able to do justice to the insanity of the past week which pertains to real estate matters. (Okay, so maybe he could, but work with me here.) “Not my circus, not my monkeys” is an… More Sadly, these ARE my monkeys
I am happy to have another story published. This is a Flash Fiction piece, published at 101words.com Here it is: Facing my Opponent Sweat cascades down my head as I peddle, one, two, three miles, uphill both ways. I race along on the treadmill to the beat of my iPod. My opponent’s picture, the one… More Facing my opponent