Fortunately, I am made of more than just traumatizing memories of my youth.  I also have a sharp wit and a pretty decent rack.  That being said, now is probably a good time for a palate-cleanser since my last 3-part, 5000-word anecdote might have been a little on the heavy side, and, I mean chrissakes... Continue Reading →



The Gramercy Riffs. The Turnbull ACs. The Baseball Furies.  Man, I loved "The Warriors." And, I mean... Swan was SO cute. Michael Beck is such a dreamboat. That smile, that hair... c'mon. What a fox. (And now a silver fox!) Pardon me, Mrs. His-Wife-of-Almost-40-Years. but I'm coveting your husband. So, I guess my graffiti-riddled nostalgia... Continue Reading →


I said, "Yeah, I surfed through the news, and then started watching Fight Club, so... I was all kinds of inspired to write some shit." On weekend mornings, I get out of bed much earlier than my husband. If I'm lucky, he'll sleep at least another four hours after I've already arisen and shone. Those... Continue Reading →


When I stare at a Rorschach test, the first thing I notice about the image the lack of substance in the white. It's bright, but it's as unremarkable as it is unavoidable. What brings my thoughts to life is what I envision taking shape in the black.  All the work, all the contrast, everything that's interesting is... Continue Reading →


I am a fiberglass body in need of solid struts. I'm held together with Bondo, and a hundred-dollar paint job from Earl Sheib. I cruise around all year long in my winter rims,  and I keep telling myself I can get ten more miles out of my donut-spare if I just blow-off going out to... Continue Reading →

dancing gingerly

I think I am officially sick of the expression "triggered." Not wanting to trigger someone is the new T-ball stand. Make things as easy as possible on those who might get upset if they strike out, because gawd-forbid they embrace the actual physics of trying to hit a fucking baseball. Life is not a safe... Continue Reading →

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