“…when I hear women saying that the cards are stacked against them because of the Patriarchy I think, “Yeah no shit. Welcome to the world, Princess. Stop stomping your dainty little foot sniffling “not fair!” Grab the fucking deck and reshuffle.”
The first time Steve put his hands on me, I sighed, audibly, said, “Okay, then,” and thought, “So this is how it’s gonna be, eh?” I was displeased, not offended or violated.
You did it again, I told myself. Spread open your arms, pointed at your vital places and said, “aim for here…it will hurt best here.”
” I was asking for the relief from living that the drug supposedly gave, with none of the greasy memories I tied to it still attached.”
. I loved it. I hated it. It felt sick there and so special too. Like Nigger Ben Butte, all wrong, distasteful even, but sickly compelling in its defiance.
I put him to bed tonight. I tried to tickle, hug, sing, play. Slow, gentle; I know not to smother or overwhelm him. Interspersed between each new attempt was the constant refrain, near tears, “Get out! Get Out! Get Out!” pointing at the door.
I’ve turned in nine chapters of my book in under three months, maybe about four more to go. The book is funny. I am funny. Underwear and toilets are funny. It all comes together. I have friends who are disppointed in how I’ve chosen to use my way with words. People who think humor…
Yesterday morning I decided to euthanize my dog. Within an hour of my decision, she was limp on the floor of the vet’s office. I kept grasping and ungrasping that thick roll of fur and fat that substituted for her neck. It was always a pre-meditated decision to pet Stitch. She shed obscenely in summer and she…
I have a manila folder that, a year ago I scawled “BOOK REC.S” across, crumpled in my lap. I realize that in my slump of despair I’m resting my bosom on my accountant’s desk, and it is overflowing it’s pretty push-up bra into the v neck of my blouse. Bless his studied eye contact. I…
I don’t even know what you’d call it. I called myself a “humorist” in the program but that was because my vocabulary is lacking. In a talent show, where does, “Making witty observations while wildly gesticulating in front of a slide show of 19th century underwear” fall? My friend Sonja, who is…
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