I don’t think I’m the only one who leaves home each morning to head for work, but could I be the only one who does so wracked with guilt thanks to my pets? Continue reading
So the other day in the office, somebody brought in a pie for Jill’s birthday. It was one of those delicious cream pies that’s a whole lot of cream and little else, and anyway, the pie was supposed to be for everyone to share and have a piece. Though it was a small pie, true, I thought we’d all be courteous and slice it up into tiny pieces, if you know what I mean. Continue reading
Part 3 of Camp Life (Warning: Explicit Language) All points lead to hell and there’s no escape, that’s for sure. And it’s especially true of my time at Camp Prison-Shit, because, dammit, we were in wild country, where anything can … Continue reading
Don’t know how I survived Camp Prison-Shit. If not for Jon and his dog, Lucas, I’d have been dead. Of course, slipping into a coma helped.
Now, Camp Prison-Shit wasn’t its real name, not by any means. But it might as well have been, for the sleepaway camp was a magnet for misfits, losers, miscreants, wise guys and clowns. I’m still trying to figure out which category I fit in. Continue reading
I never dress up for Halloween. After all, the very idea makes me cringe.
Not since my childhood days when every costume came in a box with a cellophane lid so you could see the mask and decide if that was the costume for you. And I’m pretty sure, no matter what costume you chose–cowboy, witch, princess or maniacal clown–it was made of some cheesy, flammable cloth that came in only size and was guaranteed to make you look like something the cat ate. Continue reading