Wednesday, February 20, 2019

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She preferred to hang around with queens and fags. Breeders just weren’t as interesting and always passed judgment on her extra-curricular activities and porn shop career! So what, if she sold ass plugs and dildos for a living… The people she met at work were far more interesting than any of the corporate robots who worked down the street in the business sector.

Sometimes it got slow during the day. She’d start putting batteries in things, cranking the funk, and dancing around the store like a freak. Occasionally the bells would jingle and someone would come into the store and catch... Read More

Once upon a time, in the middle of England, there was a small village called Stye. It was a muddy little town but the citizens there were fat and mostly contented. In a small cottage there lived the widow Trotter and her three sons who were named Tamworth, Hampshire and Chester. Mr. Trotter had passed away a few years earlier and their mother often told the wee ones that daddy was in “Hog Heaven”.

The Trotters were rather poor and Mrs. Trotter had to take in washing so they could eat. Tam, Ham and Chester all had big appetites and were growing quickly and their mother was finding it difficult... Read More

I live on a farm, now bereft of livestock, but at one time we had three horses, one pony, four sheep, multiple chickens, geese, and the obligatory cats and dogs. We also had a steer, named Brutus. He was not named as in “et tu,” but for Brutus Beefcake the wrestler. I know, it’s sort of a literary double entendre, just wait, it gets better.

I also had a day job. Farming is a lot of hard work for little or no money, and oddly, for even less food. I guess we weren’t very good at it or maybe our animals were all slackers, I suspect the latter. At any rate, this is why we no longer... Read More

The alerters go off and we all come. The boys run into the muster bay, step into their boots, pull up their fire gear and get on the engine. I assign a radio orderly and get into the front of the engine beside the driver, ready to head out when the crew is on board. We know going out that it’s a domestic fire, an RTA, whatever. But even the men with more than twenty years experience never know quite what they’ll see. We deal with Death. Sometimes he wins, sometimes we do. He is the enemy and fire is just one of his weapons.

When the incident is closed, everyone heads home. We’re a retained... Read More

I used to run into him all the time at the local WalMart. I would be there loading up my cart with useless (but necessary) items such as; scarves, socks, pajamas, body wash, shampoo, laxatives, and tampons, while he was there with his cart full of smoking cessation aids such as; sunflower seeds, a jumbo pack of gum, “the patch”, and some of that nasty Nicorette gum. I always found it weird that he went to these great lengths to seemingly “stop smoking”, yet each and every time, at the checkout, he would still ask for a pack of cigs… Marlborough Lights.

One day while behind him in line... Read More

I played tennis with my ex-wife’s ex-husband last night. And I won: 6-4, 6-3.

Divorce is always awkward; especially when there is a child involved. The child involved in my divorce, my son, Neil, had become something of an emotional volleyball, I’m afraid to say; though at the moment, he seemed more focused on the soccer ball that he was dribbling down the field, streaking toward the goal with nary a defender in sight …Goal!

There’s nothing like a goal to bring the warring factions in the aftermath of a divorce together, and Neil’s step dad, Peter Sampini, and I now managed... Read More

Mom used to always tell me that husbands lasted about as long as a roll of toilet paper. She sort of robbed me of any romanticized view of marriage I might have had. Now on husband number five (Jack) she had successfully transformed herself from a loving, nurturing mom to a cold-hearted money-grubbing bitch.

It was cool in my junior years at high school being dropped off in a Rolls Royce or limo once in while. But it quickly became old; as did the increase in age of the men she wed.

I still remember the way she used to look at dad. We might not have had much, but we were happy.... Read More

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Very nice Uttam, keep writing...

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