Apathy that’s palpable
As [St.] Anthony bleeds . . .
In the beginning,
the path of least resistance
God can forget too . . .
reds, crimsons and bloods
there’s a rose in the meadow
snow-covered in love . . .
for a very special flower
and for Deb
Heart my coconut
Forever full moon
My daughter Sarah came by the house a week or so ago and decided to
lounge around on the couch and do some work for school.
Methinks she needed a break from the campus crowd.
At one point she got up to go into the bathroom and I heard her start laughing.
Holding my precious bottle of Headlube, she looked at me and said, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“What?” I said.
“Headlube? Come on, Dad. It comes in a friggin’ water bottle for God’s sake!” (she’s still laughing)
“So what,” I said, “It’s usually 8 bucks and I got it for 2.50. It’s just moisturizer and besides it’s my head.”
“See you got the ‘matte’ finish. Nice.” she said.
Yeah, I’m all about the silky smooth but understated cueball noggin’ I guess.
Hmmm . . .
Can’t wait to see how long it will take for the comments to plummet this post to rock bottom.
Yeah, I got it coming with a product that sports that kind of name.
As it says on the bottle, “It’s your head. Buy this lube.”
So, I did and I might add that some days my glabrescent dome is a blessed work of art.
IMHO . . .
honesty is a false face
cuts my bleeding soul . . .
This day has found me disillusioned with various aspects of my life.
I am sadly discovering that in the blogworld, things aren’t always what they seem.
Seriously contemplating some time away from this place that I truly love, if only to figure out just what the hell I’m really trying to accomplish here.
I may be back tomorrow, I may not.
Right now, I just don’t know.
Pleading the fifth and I’ll leave it at that.
Much safer that way.
Until next time, be well folks.
Scotch bonnet sunset
Cayenne-red skin screams for ice
air-conditioned bliss kiss
Opaque windows to the soul
lucidity’s dead . . .