Spatter Painting with The Compost

Since I became aware of blogs, I’ve had one. Always anonymous because I had guck, and I wanted to be free to splatter that guck any way I wished to fling it. I can’t do that freely anymore. I’m real now, accountable for my whines and prejudices and selfishness. But just this once…I’m just gonna…

Still Hungry

  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…

Accountants are frowny

The relationship budding between me and my accountant bares similarities to that between my beloved Pam, and her own very talented accountant, Cyril. Let’s watch, shall we?    Once again I sit in Mike the CPA’s office to talk about why I should have to pay taxes on the art and information I offer the…

Drownding isn’t a word. But I’m doing it anyway.

It’s back to my woo-woo Lisa the Good Witch therapist, and her hourly rate; which is so high it seems like only the most sad and baffled aging Hollywood wives would be asked to pay it. And me. Because goddammit, she’s a soul-fixer genius. I don’t care if she DOES believe the midichlorians that incandescence her blood…

Pain + Time = Defying Gravity

        Every other writer I know works a hell of a lot harder than my lazy ass and if you judge by effort, I do not deserve what I’ve garnered in my 2 and a half year career. The other night I got to talk on late night radio about a little listicle…