Humor

I’ll Have the Rat Shit, Please

Yesterday kind of sucked. I’d gotten home past midnight the night before from some heavy-duty travel, and after a couple of hours of sleep I woke up in a panic about not having done any writing for a couple of days.

Dreams. Are. Everywhere.

When I was at Harvard, I heard the phrase “I love TV shows about Bigfoot!” exactly never… except, of course, within my own peculiar inner monologue. Of course, we’d have been all over it if real proof of Bigfoot’s existence had come to light — a carcass, a skeleton, a notarized birth…

Try ANYTHING!

When he first moved in, I thought Enormo Manhands was just dumb jock. Not that I have a problem with that. I enjoy watching impressively muscular males doing big things. But frankly, Enormo spends a lot of his time just sitting and staring blankly, much as I do while watching him. In my defense, though…

Spurned

Today I got up and turned on my laptop, the stalwart companion who’s seen me through countless hours of writing, communicating, and creating posters by adding sincere affirmations to ridiculous animal pictures.

Rampant poultry

Today I worked like crazy. Like a maniac. Like the Madwoman of Chaillot, if the Madwoman of Chaillot had been trying to write a fantasy novel and a self-help book in one year while lying down.

I worked so hard that I fell asleep and today became yesterday. Amazing, how it…

Tales of horror from beyond the womb

There was a time when I thought getting massaged was so revoltingly self-indulgent only the Crawleys of Downton Abbey would ever do it. Not coincidentally, that was also the time when I was in continuous excruciating musculoskeletal pain.