Sunday, July 18, 2004

rolled a cigarette and took in the view

Well, I finally pulled my head out of my ass today. My Mother would be proud. I imagine she threw her bong and harp down and stood cheering from the Heavens. I thought it was darn cool of her to write that note for me. Nearly 15 years after he death and she still covers for me. Thanks Mom!

Creative work on the table with a new restaurant concept. Meetings scheduled with fingers crossed. It will only take a miracle to pull this off. Oh yes, I still believe.

Family reunion took place on a sunny beach in Florida. Judgemental Christians sharing cocktails and shrimp. Misplaced my wand therefore I failed to make it, doubt seriously I was missed. The funniest thing ever to come out of grandmother's mouth was "I worry about the one with the little girl" We think she was talking about her youngest daughter who's name she forgot, the little girl would have been me. I was 30 at the time. I wonder if she remembered her daughters name when she met her at Heaven's gate, gee that would really be embarressing. Hello, my name is Gussie, have we met? Hello Mother, Welcome to the other side. The little girl rides an emotional roller coaster in Germany and she's 42 now. Is she ok? The Jury's still out.

Wednesday, June 23, 2004

A note from my mother

Please excuse Dory from making posts in her blog. She's been entertaining her depression, therefore taking a leave of absence form her keyboard. Dory will return to her on-line journal as soon as she pulls her head out of her ass.

Dory's Mother

Tuesday, June 08, 2004

Washed my face with fresh tears today

Holly The Super Tabby Kitty Girl has decided to die.
To watch this slow dance is excruciating.
I promised her a garden and failed to deliver.
Gazing down at the Earth she lost from our high rise balcony, silently crying.
Social butterfly that she is desiring to have tea with our neighbors.
Hopi awaits her on the other side, sister's re-united.
ashes to ashes, dust to dust in a copper urn without a garden to thrust......

Wednesday, June 02, 2004

Nicotine Weight Loss Program Banned

It's been 154 days since my last cigarette.
I don't miss the taste of elf shit in my mouth, I miss my body.
Evicted my wardrobe today without notice.
Voluptuous woman seeking comfortable, stylish clothing.
I can see my ego pouting in the back seat through my rear-view mirror.
Health is savoring each moment riding shot gun knowing this could be the last...

Sunday, May 30, 2004

You're 262 days late for work.

I joined the Rich & Lazy Network today


A tree house on an island is where I want to sleep in my hammock for two over looking the beach.

I now attract to me quality and motivated people who make a positive contribution to my life, dreams and endeavors. I am filled with gratitude for the laws of attraction and the fruits of my labors.

Saturday, May 29, 2004

Negligent Blogger

Writer's block does not exist, a brain fuck is all that is.

A hyper inflated ego crossed my path.
Compliments never served.
Back handed insults without eye contact.
Jealousy is the the lunch special I've dined on all my life.
enjoy the flavor.

In the future the personality will stay safely stashed at home.
I shall mumble into the microphone.
Feeding the fragile ego of the one who can't make laughter but brilliant rhyme.
I'll get em in London with my stage time.

Wednesday, May 26, 2004

Poetry Slam Gong Show Open Mic........................

Tonight I shall stretch my poetry wings. No, no, I'm no poet. I prefer the ha ha. I can make you spit beer through you nose, but poetry, prose and rhyme? EEK! Gasp! What have I done??!!

The scent of his skin in the early morning arouses a passion in me I've never known.
I watch him sleep.
I check his breathing in the stillness of the night.......
OH! Who am I kidding? Everything stinks! They mattress, the bedding, curtains, carpets and sheets.
Up his ass something did crawl.
It wants out to the detriment of us all.
Our cats, the dogs and neighbors must suffer all because someone had cream with their supper.

"Ode to the lactose intolerant male"
who woulda thought methane gas production could be poetry?