My Body, The Hand Grenade

Comfortable living aside, I am a mess waiting to blossom. 

We have been getting a lot of work done on the condo, but at the rate the earthquakes are coming.... Methinks the end is near. I blame my mother, who always seemed to take the "latter-day" part of sainthood a little too seriously. Apocalyptic nightmares are second nature to me now. Though I really need to stock up on drinkable water, just in case.

Also, after recovering from my first and quite severe sunburn of the season, I have had many minor body issues to freak out about. For instance, I am fairly sure that red wine has become a vital fluid that I may not be able to live long without.  I get these really really nasty canker sores every time I have a job.... As the shoot date approaches, my mouth breaks out into a minefield of pain and fades away as the job subsides. Weird stress related shit, right? How about the pain under my right arm or the monster knots residing in my back? I really need a spa weekend. I need a reset button. I cannot believe that I am getting braces even though I am rapidly approaching my forties. It doesn't get uglier than this, Betty.

In pop culture news, I am thrilled that many television shows have released their death grip on me by having season finales. LOST is my favorite and its sort of sad that there is only one more year of it. Adam Lambert was robbed on AI. I felt really bad for him and I still haven't figured out why.... I am currently loving SPORE Origins on my iPhone and hating John and Kate and their stupid reality show/tabloid dumbass lives.... Go the fuck away already!

If the world doesn't end, you can bet I will still be here in beautiful sunny California, complaining like an old woman about something that ails me.... After all, cats and raccoons can get a bit boring.... After too long a time, I mean.

Loving you,

SO

 

The Daily Grind

Sometimes I miss being human.

Usually, though, I am tethered to humanity through a vast and intricately powerful set of emotions. I cycle through as if nothing is wrong. Pedal, pedal, petal...

INT. DRUG STORE - DAY

A pretty yet quite obese cashier calls up the next customer in line, a young black buck with some toiletries and a copy of MAXIM with an anorexic bleached blond filleted on the cover.

CASHIER:
I wonder what she did in a past life to look like that in this one?

The black buck just shrugs, pays and leaves.

I contemplate her question for a moment before stepping up to cash out myself.

SAVIOUR ONASSIS:
It must have been something bad.

Then I smiled at her. A gentle, genuine smile, as if to say: You are prettier far than she.

The cashier twitched slightly before ringing me out. She did not return my smile.
C'est la vie...

Petal, petal, petal... HE LOVES ME!

A dinner party was dramatically cut short when two of the guests retired to another room. Moments later, one emerges, enraged, panting and hungry for escape. Then came the screams. Yes, a lover's quarrel gone horribly wrong. The bloodied party screamed: "He hit me!"

My answer?
"Yes, but darling... Did it feel like a kiss?"

Surgery was performed in sobriety, the following day.

Petal, petal, petal... HE LOVES ME NOT!

We don't have to do this, but it feels so good. Like teenagers, we can hardly stop...
"You don't have to swallow that if you don't want to..."

Petal, petal, petal... HE LOVES ME!

As I tear the petals away, I confess that these stories have been edited, quite extensively in some cases, but are, nonetheless, true, true, true... Like reality television, the atomic age and death. We all get along somehow, don't we?

If you have an axe, by all means... GRIND IT!