Don’t Tell Me To Calm Down Mother-Fucker
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That’s the title of my first country song. It’s also the lyrics. Hope you like it
Out of touch is when you turn on the Emmys and don’t know anybody
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But then you see it’s just the different hair or the different clothes and it’s shocking almost like running into an ex at the coffee shop
I’m writing a short story right now and it’s a heavy one, which makes it difficult to write anything unheavy. Just so you know
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Also, maybe you should get your affairs in order
I try to look attentive and engaged in meetings when all I am really doing is following my floaters
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That’s not really what this blog is about but it’s one of the best titles so far don’t you think?
If butterflies can migrate all the way to Lorem Ipsum, why can’t I even google anything?
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I am a freestyle speculator and pretty good at making up words, but sometimes you need the cold hard facts or you look like a fidiot
Nashville hot chicken at the Ex makes me forget everything, including not to swoon in public
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I forget about the strap on my sandals, my plot lines, the board games I donated to Value Village and might go buy back, what to do with all the peaches, the new name I’m trying to coin for Global Warming, etc., and that’s a pretty loaded little abbrev
I can’t take a good selfie. My arms aren’t long enough
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I have to actually get in the car and drive until I’m the size of a pretzel first, and then I can take a reasonable shot, but that’s a lot too Rod Serling especially when the kettle hasn’t even boiled yet
If I listened to the old adage “If you can’t say anything nice...” what would you be doing right now?
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If for every action – I think this one’s more than an adage – there is an equal and opposite reaction, does that mean you’re going to write this blog? Because me? I just can’t say anything nice today so maybe I’ll write this in CODE which isn’t, BTW, AFA
If you’re feeling thick-skinned and want to join me at the Ex today, I’m the girl flying around solo wearing the I’M WITH STUPID t-shirt
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You can’t miss me. It works even better than the Patient Zero shirt I usually wear when personal space is an issue. I may also be wearing a Jordan Baker hat, weather permitting, in which case I will be unmistakable
It’s even earlier than usual this morning, and there’s one very happy bird keeping me awake
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I think he’s counting, which encouraged me to count right along with him, but I quit long ago and although I am up now and genuinely happy he’s happy, it’s getting to the point where I think he should fuck slightly off
They’re starting to get the Ex ready and it gives me butterflies mostly, and some dragons
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Last year I went every day for lunch unless it was pouring or scurvy was a concern because the closest thing to fresh fruit or vegetables you’re going to find is in the beer garden
So I had a Yawneureka! moment
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I am an optimist of the rose-coloured-glasses-half-full variety and I’m not one to question a eureka moment, except I think this one may be a case of mistaken identity
So I got chased by a Spider in one of those park washrooms
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I saw him first, which gave me the advantage, but I froze
I’ve been calling myself a writer forever, even when I didn’t write, so now I’m just going to go ahead and call myself a comedian and see what happens
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Remember when you were little and you’d watch a movie or a TV show or read a book and then you and your friends would act out the good parts? I say let’s not grow out of this
Most of my skills are outdated but I can still swear like a drunken sailor and run like a mother-fucker unless it’s the other way around
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It’s okay. I looked it up and contrary to what you might think, it’s okay to say mother-fucker. It’s perfectly fine. Please pass it on.
If you want me to be cordial, please pass me one because I’m feeling a little antonymy today
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This morning when the sun was barely up I skimmed through an article on Medium that said I should google myself – and because I started my day perfectly willing and nicely agreeable – that’s exactly what I did
I think spellcheck has been hanging out with urban dictionary, because it’s a lot less fuckle than it used to be
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I am writing this from the quiet zone on the GO Train and you’ll never guess what somebody just said to me
At first I thought I was channeling Marlon Brando, but now I’m pretty sure I’m channeling Tequila Sunrises
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I have been reading A Streetcar Named Desire again, Stella, and there’s never been a truer Stanley than Marlon Brando, gulp
