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Tag Archives: Metaphors for My Existence
What the Hell Is It, Anyway?
Every now and then she goes experimental. Lately she’s gotten a blender and, at first, I think, excellent, she’ll be grinding up my Flavor Blasted Xtra Cheddar Goldfish Crackers (it gets deafening in my head when I chew each one … Continue reading →
And I Never Would Have Found Out Bigger Greenies Existed if John Hadn’t Sent a Care Package
BLANK BLANK BLANK BLANK BLANK BLANK BLANK The salad is now spectacular. And my spa is days away. On the crap side of the ledger, I had a sprinting indiscretion yesterday afternoon so am … Continue reading →
What’s Wrong with this Picture?
The small blue pot, mostly out of frame in the lower left? One of my salad pots. In it? Nothing. Some middling-tasting soil. Ditto the other one. Notice any completed plumbing for my temperature-controlled baths on … Continue reading →
Somebody Send a Clue
I disembark in the walkies area. He is not twenty feet away, blithely rolling acorns around or whatever the hell they do. I point this out with appropriate urgency. She continues mucking about with bionic leg. It is endless. I … Continue reading →
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Tagged Car Rides, Cesar Chavez, Killing Shit, Metaphors for My Existence, Walkies
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