A Billion Stars All Around

Nights in our desert were clear and cold.  It is all about authenticity, so when I am on vacation, I look for that off the beaten trail experience, not ones that feel as if they are manufactured for tourists.  I am comfortable living in tents, using a bush for a restroom, eating food that I catch, and I entertain myself by playing my guitar and singing.  I was singing in a local hole in the wall bar where I was being admired by hordes of women and some of them were offering themselves to me, saying that they wanted to have my baby.  These girls were out on the town, getting wrecked, and looking for someone to fuck their pain away with and who was I to deny them their satisfaction.  The girl with the sparkling earrings caught my eye and I told her that I would like to lay against her brown skin in the desert night.

I told her that I had separate sleeping bags and air mattresses and that she would be safe with me in my tent.  She said that there was nothing to do in the desert and I replied, “We will find something and there are a billion stars all around.”  She wasn’t making this easy for me, but I hoped that she wouldn’t let me down, because I was already standing in the parking lot next to my truck.  I found out a long time ago, what a woman can do to your soul, but I knew that she couldn’t take me anywhere that I didn’t want to go.  I told her that I had already considered her as being my lover and my friend, but a voice kept on whispering to me, that I would never see her again.

Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie First Line Friday hosted by Dylan.

Blowing In the Wind

Izzy didn’t believe in luck, until that cat crossed her path.  It wasn’t a real cat, as it was merely painted on the wall and technically it didn’t cross her path, as she crossed its path, but after spotting this black cat, she noticed a twenty-dollar bill laying on the sidewalk.  Izzy looked around and she did not see anyone, especially anyone who appeared to be searching for the money and she said to herself, “Finders keepers, losers weepers”, feeling this was a gift from heaven.  She had heard that many States have laws which require a person to return the money to its rightful owner, or to the police, but she was not sure if this applied to her in this case.  She didn’t want to break the law and be classified as a criminal, but she didn’t study law and she had no idea how to find out how this situation applied to the law.  She wondered how much time and expense she should try to invest in her search, and if it was too much, maybe she could just place the money back where she found it and let the legality become someone else’s problem.  She also wondered why the law would even bother with such a trivial thing and since nobody else was around who was going to question that it did not belong to her.

Izzy didn’t feel like a criminal and she always considered herself to be an extremely honest person and in fact she was on her way to the store to tell them that they only charged her for one gallon of milk when she purchased two.  Only an honest person would admit to being undercharged, but she always felt that honesty was the best policy.  She reasoned that if she didn’t pick up the twenty-dollar bill, that it may have been blown down the sewer by a gust of wind and nobody would benefit from that.  She thought about the police telling her to keep the money because they did not want to waist their time filling out the paperwork, but she knew that if it was a fifty or a hundred that she would have turned it in to the authorities.

She entered the store and went to customer service with her receipt and showed them that they only charged her for one milk and they said that was because it was a two for one special and she was happy about that.  Customer service also sold the lottery tickets and she knew that the only way to get that twenty out of her head would be to spend it and she purchased a twenty-dollar scratch off ticket, figuring she would press her luck.  Izzy finished shopping and she carried her goods back to her place, but somewhere on the way home she must have dropped that lotter ticket as it was nowhere to be found.  She figured that she was even, but since she had some extra time, she was going to take a quick look back by where that black cat was, hoping that she would get lucky again.

Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie First Line Friday hosted by Dylan.

Dog Days

August approached in a golden sweltering haze.  In August, the weather is hot, because in the Northern Hemisphere we are in summer and sometimes the days can be so stinking hot, and sultry and irritating, that it makes you lose your mind.  The dog days were historically the period following the heliacal rising of the star system Sirius, which Hellenistic astrology connected with heat, drought, sudden thunderstorms, lethargy, fever, mad dogs, and bad luck.  Sirius is the brightest star in the night sky, and it is the eye of Canis Major, the greater of Orion’s two hunting dogs.  A heliacal rising occurs when a celestial object appears in the sky at the same time, or just before the Sun, or this event is its first visible rising after a period of invisibility due to conjunction with the Sun.  Sirius’ heliacal rising occurs when the Sun is about 8° below the horizon and Sirius is 3° in altitude in the east-southeast sky, and this will happen on August 16, 2021.  Thus, the dog days are coming and there is nothing that we can do about it, except drink a lot of water and try and stay cool.

An extended heat wave has been baking everyone this summer and August is only just around the corner, so it will most likely just get worse.  I saw that there are floods in London, but here in the US many places need rain.  Record high temperatures are being broken every day on our rapidly and continuously warming planet, which spells trouble for everyone.  Recently hundreds of deaths were reported in British Columbia, Washington and Oregon, which have all been linked to a heat wave that has roasted the Pacific Northwest for days and broken Canadian heat records, sending hundreds of thousands of people scrambling for relief.  In Washington, at least 78 people died, while in British Columbia, officials counted nearly 800 deaths from June 25 to July 1.  Extreme heat is an invisible yet dangerous consequence of human-caused climate change, killing more people each year on average than any other weather-related event, according to the National Weather Service.  To be considered a heat wave, the temperatures have to be outside the historical averages for a given area.

People spend a lot of time talking about the weather, and a lot of this is friendly conversation stating what a beautiful day it is, but it is also a lot of complaining usually because it has been freezing cold, or it has been blisteringly hot or persistently raining.  Everyone has some experience with the weather and people love to express their opinions.  There are a lot of whiney people out there these days and the weather makes an easy victim for their attacks.  Chatting about the weather is never going to change anything, but it may provide relief on some level for those that need to rant.  Some like it hot and others like it cold and some just enjoy talking.

Unlike hurricane seasons or monsoons, there is no single prescribed date for the start of the North American wildfire season.  Canada and the United States share wildland firefighting resources including personnel, vehicles, helicopters and airplanes.  President Biden was on TV today speaking about the devastating wildfires that are plaguing our country and how this is also resulting in poor air quality.  Biden indicated that we have reserved up to a hundred million dollars to battle against these fires, which are out of control now.  The dog days sounds like a good excuse to run around under some sprinklers, but heat waves are no laughing matter.  They are serious weather phenomena that can be quite dangerous.

Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie First Line Friday hosted by Dylan.


I am the monster of every story.  Every time I look at myself, it is like I am having an out of body experience and I ask myself, “How did I get here?  Where did that large automobile come from?  Is that sexy man in the bed my husband?  Whose house am I in?  How come I didn’t get any mail today and what did I do to deserve this?”  I can’t identify with the person in the mirror, even though I know that she is me, but I don’t feel attached to her.  I have dark secrets that I keep caged inside of me and they keep trying to scratch their way out.  I used to be able to hide these feelings under my bed, or keep them in the closet, but the ugly beast got out of control and there is no escape from the nightmare that I am living.

Maybe this comes from a past life that I lived, one where I had to survive in a world where I was forced to kill or else, I would have been killed and I had to compete to survive.  These vicious thoughts remain with me, and I am certain that I retained the ability to kill others.  My world is filled with inner struggles and impulses that I am not able to ignore.  Maybe I should just stop looking in the mirror and trying to overanalyze everything.  I see the devil on one of my shoulders and the angel on my other shoulder is always fighting trying to flip the negative feeling to positive ones, but the devil seems to win out most of the time and my therapist never helps.  I hurt myself and maybe if there was some one around to cuddle me, I wouldn’t be such a monster, but there is always a chance that I would hurt them also, so I am probably better off sulking in my own misery.

Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie First Line Friday hosted by Dylan.

A Small Town

The café began to feel like her only real home.  That feeling of emptiness reared its ugly head and it contributed to her sense of loneliness, confusion and boredom and now it has taken a firm hold on every aspect of her life.  She felt a thumping in in her chest, yet she was unsure how to rid herself of this sadness.  Her hormone levels were constantly shifting, and those chemical messages were impacting the way the way that her brain was functioning.  She took this waitressing job to allow her time to give some thought to her dreams, passions and desires, but she knew that it would never give her the fulfillment and joy that she so desperately needed.  She left her husband and she wanted to start a new life and she wasn’t going back to that therapist anymore.  She took the cat with her, but it was not very good at conversation and she hoped that she could meet someone new at the café.  There wasn’t much going on in this town, but she liked it quiet and she was finally free and she felt that her husband would never find her here.

Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie First Line Friday hosted by Dylan.


People see what makes sense to them, reality notwithstanding.  I worked second shift in a warehouse and I carpooled with this guy, well actually I had a car and he had a motorcycle.  He picked me up on his bike and told me that he had just dropped some acid and he asked if I wanted some.  I had been high at work before, but I never dropped acid there, but I said what the hell and I took a hit.  It kicked in right after my shift started and this was really good shit, as it was the first time that I really hallucinated.  My buddy worked in the lumber department and I worked in plumbing, so we really didn’t see each other till lunch break, which was more of a late supper break at 8PM.

My job was to pull freight, put it in boxes and bring it to the loading dock.  I had tickets which were like check lists of what each of the different stores wanted and I would go to the bin where the items were located and put them in a box and on a wagon to take to the shipping area.  I would sit on this couch looking over the tickets to get organized.  I had a marking pen which I used to write on the boxes to indicate what store the freight was going to.  The acid kicked in while I was getting organized and I started to have an apparent perception of something that was not present.

I tested my marker out on a cardboard box, to make sure it had enough ink in it for me to complete collecting and checking off all of the required items.  The ink started to bleed out on the box and it was running all over the place.  It was like the ink had a mind of its own and a big spot landed on the floor in front of me.  This ink manifested itself like a cartoon character and it had the ability to walk and talk.  The ink spot said, “How many orders do we have tonight?”  I responded to it like it was perfectly normal that this ink spot was talking to me and I said, “It is a big night, we have twelve orders to fill.  Why don’t you push the cart down the aisles and load the cart and I will sit here and mark everything down on the list?”  The ink spot agreed that was a good idea and off he went climbing into all the bins and getting the stuff.  The plumbing freight on my ticket was being gathered by my new ink spot friend.

I saw my carpool buddy at dinner break time and he told me that he was really spaced out and he asked me how I was doing.  I told him about the ink spot that was helping me and that I had all of my orders already done for the night.  He drove me to a park where a lot of my friends were hanging out and then he went back to work to tell my boss that I had gotten sick.  I should have cared more about my job than to mess up like this, but this night I didn’t care.  There is more to this story, but I will save that for another time.  My brain knew that it was impossible for an ink spot to be doing my work for me and also that I could not have been holding a conversation with it, but sometimes you see what makes sense to you.

Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie First Line Friday hosted by Dylan.

Broken Party

“A perfectly brewed cup of tea can’t fix everything”, said Mitt Romney to Liz Cheney, “but we have to start somewhere.”  Liz replied, “Yes the tea is lovely, but our party is filled with cowards who are afraid of the big bully.  We need to take him down, but our wishy-washy colleges keep flipping back and forth on what they want to do.  We are losing support to our Democratic opponents, because many people know that the orange dude with all of his lies is a threat to democracy and the long-term health of the Republican Party.  We need to find a way to punish those who are enabling him with their cultish devotion to this awful man.  America has had enough of Donald Trump, and many voters hold him responsible for the January 6 insurrection, believing this should be investigated, so it doesn’t happen again.  It is our party that seems to be in another universe, as the rank-and-file members never supported impeachment, they don’t want Trump punished, and they still prefer him over any other potential candidate for president in 2024.”

Mitt said, “We are in a quandary because of this crazy glue that makes people want to stick with Trump, even though his support has reached an all-time low now.  Let’s face it, he was a lousy President, but because he was a fighter that never backed down, everyone climbed aboard the Trump train.  He is a childish man that took dignity away from the Oval Office, but he still has a support base and if he decides to break away and start his own party, that will probably tear us apart.  He is like a bad drug that we know is not good for us, but we just don’t know how to make him disappear.  It is people like Mitch McConnell who speak out against him one day and the next they turn around and start supporting him again, that are making it so difficult for us to fix anything.  Would you like to have another cup of tea Liz?”

Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie First Line Friday hosted by Dylan.

Redneck Spring Mud Twerking Jam

Spring arrived with mud and a torrent of bad news.  Dirt becomes muddy as the snow and ice melts, but this is the perfect time for the Redneck Spring Mud Twerking Jam.  This is a mammoth muddy outdoor dance that starts off with a wet t-shirt contest and everyone is standing around a big pile of mud.  It usually brings in a bunch of old hippies who dove into the Woodstock experience by sliding around naked in the mud for 3 days.  This Jam always has great music and it features dozens of people dancing naked in mud puddles and some half‐naked bodies coated with brown slime that are moving rhythmically to the music.  Professional twerker Jessica Vanessa will be there to give free lessons on how to shake your bootie, but the bad news is that you have to bring your own beer.

Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie First Line Friday hosted by Dylan.

You Dirty Rat

The rat ran and he chased.  He had constructed the better mousetrap which should also have worked for catching rats, but this little bugger has eluded capture so far.  He was eating dinner when he saw this troublesome rat, which seemed to be so much smarter than his other colleagues that had already met their doom.  He knew that this rat could run and it was also very good at hiding, but he swore that one day he was going to get the rodent.  He figured that the rat could be suffering from neophobia, a behavior disorder that caused it to resist anything that was new to it.  Animals with this condition will only ingest small quantities of new foodstuffs.  If no illness results from consumption of the new food, and assuming that the food is reasonably palatable, animals will increase their intake on subsequent exposures.

He thought that it might be a good idea to feed the rat and get the rat to trust him, but this idea also seemed crazy to him.  He knew that some rats could be very affectionate, because basically they are social creatures.  Rats love to hang out and they will chill out on the couch, or even on some peoples’ shoulders or in their laps.  They will even try to groom their human companions, as if these people were other rats, or members of their own rat pack.  He wondered if it would be possible for him to make the rat show him some love.  Once the rat let its guard down, he would have him, that is if he could prevent himself from falling in love with the rat.

Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie First Line Friday hosted by Dylan.

Where Did These Come From

It only takes a little bit of lace to ruin a marriage.  My wife was furious when she found these panties in our bed.  She held them up and said, “I am willing to listen to what you have to say about this, but it better be good.  I want to know if you are cheating on me, or if you have another explanation of how these mystery panties which are clearly not mine ended up in our bed.  I understand that every case of infidelity is different and it’s important not to judge without hearing someone’s story.  There are only three reasons why a girl might leave a lacy memento behind and either she couldn’t find them when she left, or she’s claiming you as hers, or she’s giving you a sexy souvenir to remind you of that hot night.  Tell me the real story.”

I replied, “Oops, I cheated.  I really didn’t really mean to, but the opportunity was there and I couldn’t resist, it sort of just happened.  I am sorry that you found that, but ever since the intimacy disappeared in our marriage and you lost interest in having sex, well I have needs, but I still love you.  I never meant to cause you any pain, but I am actually glad that you found out, as I felt terrible keeping things from you.  I made a conscious choice and there is nobody to blame but me, but it seemed like you were turned off to me and when the opportunity for me to be unfaithful arrived, I figured that since I was unsatisfied with the way our marriage was going, I was going to do it.  I hope that you are satisfied with my answer.”

My wife said, “Of course I am not satisfied, as you left out all of the details, and you never told me how the panties ended up in our bed.  I would like to know who the panties belong to, was it a one-time thing, or are you seeing this woman on a steady basis.  Why would you have sex with this woman in our bed, like couldn’t you go to a hotel, or do it at her place?  What would our neighbors think if they see you sneaking this woman into our house, when I am not home?  I understand that you have needs and that I have been ignoring them, but you must be more discrete about your affairs, as I don’t want to become a laughing stock.  You are free to do whatever you like with your mistresses, as I don’t need your loving and I lost that loving feeling a long time ago.  I still love you and I don’t mind giving you a kiss on the lips, as that makes me feel sexy, but that is as far as I want to go.  As far as I am concerned, adultery is not a deal breaker, so tell me everything that happened.”

I said, “It started out innocently enough with a woman named Cindy at work when we were assigned to work on the same project and those are her panties that you found.  She is married and she caught her husband wearing her panties one day at her house and since then she has been viewing him as a sissy.  They have been married for ten years and he wanted her to participate in his kinky fetishes, but she said that is not her style.  She broke down crying one night over dinner when we were on a road trip, telling me all about her problems.  I figured that it was only fair if I shared some personal details of our relationship with her and I told her how you have lost interest in having sex, not that the sex we had was ever that good in the first place.  I told her how you never liked me to see you naked and that you would only pull your panties off under the covers.  She thought that was weird and said that I was missing out on the best part of sex.  After a few drinks at dinner, I walked Cindy back to her hotel room and she invited me in, and I mean like she really invited me all the way in.  It is not a one-time thing as we have been doing it for several months and the sex is awesome.  On my last trip, I told Cindy that I left some papers at our house and said that I needed to get then for the meeting and she came inside with me and one thing le\ad to another and we ended up in bed.  I can’t explain why she left her panties behind, but if you like, I can call her and ask her.”

My wife said, “Yes please give her a call and ask her to come over for dinner and tell her to bring her panty wearing husband with her, as that is turning me on.”

Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie First Line Friday hosted by Dylan.