Weird. Weird stuf...
Weird. Weird stuff a-haps in Wendyland.Bill's mom is in palliative care. Her cancer has spread too far to control. She's on her way out. Bill is taking off. His Dad is buying him a plane ticket and he's leaving within a few days. He doesn't know when he'll return. All depends on his mom. I'm sad, cuz his Mom and I had a bit of a bond (well, when I was with Bill). On Xmas we'd stay up with the kids and watch Xmas specials and the usual Xmas movies while the men went downstairs and got drunk and played darts. Also he's so much like his dad and she understood how I felt when Bill would flip out and curse me and be a dick. She once told me , after a flipout, "

creamy pale skin ...
creamy pale skin ladydusty rose cheeks, chocolate hair, pixie style, you're the one for meand oh my the things i'd do to youif only you would sin as muchas I think you'd like to doit's not your looks though I think you're DIVINEit's your soft sweet innocencewith that twinkle behind those watery eyes (....strong thighs........heart shaped lips , those hips.... ...sweet little bum.......i'd love to make you come....)argh Straight girl crushmy straight girl crushyou know we gotta have 'emwe do it for the rusheven tho they break our heartsand we can't understandwhy the

I'm the lone wolf...
I'm the lone wolflong in the tooth and flairuseless and abuselesscuz I've PRACTISED this shrug, baby.got a lifetime achievement award in shaking it offsometimes we just feel like we knowand oh the hope is adorable.and the afterglow is unignorablebut always just up there, just down there, up in the cuckoo clockhiding under the stairswaiting to reveal itselfTICK TICK TICK BAAAAAAAAAAAH! NOT REAL! not real, SUCKA"oh hi. me again. how dare you indulge yourself. how 'bout you go fuck yourself."All the lonely people. Where do they all come from?Put a pin in that nobody really c

"Really? You real...
"Really? You really can't get your pants on?"And I stare at him, a bit annoyed, a big dumbstuck, and a whole lot concerned.And this is how it has been, for his whole life.Trying to figure out if he's being lazy, uncooporative, or if he really is having a hard time. Do I have to motivate him? Assist him? Teach him HOW? All of the above? Or is he just tired and bored and playing me?I've grown used to it. I revel in his accomplishments, and allow myself mild worry when he can't seem to succeed. I redefine "success". Now imagine this little boy in kindergarten class with 20 other kids. One teacher, one assistant. They don't know him from Adam. Ho

Ramble ramblemumb...
Ramble ramblemumble mumblehmm funny how women like to put things in a box. categorize their lives. define. label.i wonder if that's an instinctual safety mechanism or are we just bored