Six weeks ago, I almost drowned. So why did no one hear me scream?
It’s funny how we spend our lives wandering in circles, thinking we’re traveling in straight lines from Point A to Point B(etter).
Originally posted on TALES FROM THE MOTHERLAND:
I’m not generally a New Year’s resolution gal, but this year I made three resolutions: 1) to either get my novel published, or self-publish it…
A few years ago, J convinced me that flag football was something I needed in my life. He even talked me into paying money for the “privilege” of running around a muddy field after a full day at work, grabbing for scraps of fabric dangling entirely too close to strangers’ genitalia. (And yes, I did accidentally pants somebody once.)
Part two of my adventures with jungles, weeping women, and a very hairy god.
A sweaty day in spring 2006 found me perched inside a truck bed stuffed with rebel sympathizers and snack cakes. As we hurtled down a road transformed by potholes into muddy Swiss cheese, my friend Jesse ducked to one side – deftly avoiding a high-speed collision with a branch – and cried out, “Andaleeeeeee!”
Oh, my blog people. I love you so much. Know what I don’t love? Painting trim. Evil trim. WE HATES IT, my precious. But it had to be done: It’s […]
Two weekends ago, I went to my first death metal concert. Before March 8, I would have said I was watching hard rock. But now I have seen the light and can tell you with certainty that both those terms are HIGHLY insufficient to express the breadth and (anguished) depths of this musical genre.
I once met the Willy Wonka of Tuscany.
So this commode tried to attack J last night. It looked so harmless but then, as he zipped up and hit what he thought was the new-fangled button to flush the thing, he got a crotch shot of toilet water. He came back to our table with a shocked expression, holding his hands over his jeans and whispering, “Don’t laugh, but it really looks like I wet my pants.”