The Establishment Of Love

Hiding deep in the hills where ever you’ll be

in emerald forest or from sea to shining sea

in the arms of an angel or falling off  the grid–

my heart will locate you, won’t allow you to skid.

A brother, a father, a son or a mate

in this crooked path called life, you are what’s straight.

I’ll find you because, our hearts, yours and mine

have established a truth which we came here to find.

–by Rita Campese

 

 

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The Next Time You Shop For Lettuce….DON’T — Just Sit and Eat From Your Lawn

I am fed up of buying seven dollar clear boxed mixed-lettuce, claiming it has been washed three times for our safety yet tasting like the neighbors’ dog just took a whiz close to it or on it.  Picture it, you’re on your way back from work, the chops have been defrosting in the fridge all day, the sink and counter by now maxed out with dirty dishes from after school hungry kids… the last thing you want to do is stand there washing lettuce and inspecting it for loose pesticides or Hepatitis A.   So you give in and buy a couple of boxes ringing, with taxes, at nearly twenty dollars.

The florescent stamped best before date already has you wasting time at the store shifting the box this way and that to be able to read it.  Finally, it reveals that the item will be good for one week into an uncertain tender leafy green future.   But o.k.– so long as its good for tonight’s meal to feed a family of four.  Not so fast, you get home you fry the chops, bake off precut sweet potato fries, make a quick salad dressing and there it is.  Upon opening one box … the faint smell of rot that has you believing you’re sitting on your lawn next to Rover.  Don’t panic, there is always the second box, its o.k. you’ll skip your own portion… and there it is in the second box that same rotting smell.  Might as well have kept the twenty dollar bill, poured dressing over it and served it up as the side dish.

….Back From Outer Space (BFOS)… Why His Name is Barbra

A lot of you have been asking me, why my alien’s name is Barbra when clearly … he’s all male, right down to his E.T. finger.  Let me explain… We met as if per chance on the Outerline Dating Service called Innie/Outie one night last September.  This glorious looking male alien, I like to call malien.  Tallish, with hair and about forty million light years old in dog years that’s up there.  That’s o.k. though I was desperate and so I decided to give him a chance– he looked so dejected even from his own kind, I felt sort of sorry for him.

So upon landing on our rooftop landing pad for aliens that same September eve… our eyes locked, well two of my eyes and his three ones and it was lust at first sight.  What was especially attractive to me was that finger that would not end.   It was like a thigh gap but for a hand.  Any who… at first he had a hard time finding me because the ship had dropped him on his head and he was quite disoriented.   I stood back quietly and absorbed the sight, no one else in the world or the universe or my apartment building seemed to exist.  Then I heard it, his voice… familiar to me,  I knew I had heard that voice before, he sounded exactly like that animated cat — Garfield.

I called to him to turn around to face me please since he was terribly close to the edge of our six story building.  He did so and I must say for a cat or alien, he was endowed.  Luckily for the both of us, I brought along one of my grandpa’s unused adult diapers, I took from the ward my grandpa was in when he passed away– as a momentum for me to remember him by.   I handed it to my newly landed love interest and instinctively he put it on correctly.

He turned to me and I told him, he looked different than his photo from Innie/Outie.  I asked him his name and in that Garfield voice uttered ‘Barrrbraa’… he went on to say that it was a mistake– that the ship’s exiting guard got it wrong and allotted him instead his father’s name– Barbra.  Cool.   Whatever, I had to get up early the next day to go to work at the office for lonely out of the way movie gas stations… ‘lets go inside where you’ll look less green, I said…. Barbra agreed.

 

Stay tuned for part II- Barbra Buys A Jockstrap

So Now I’m Back From Outer Space — Part II Barbra Buys A Jockstrap

Part of Prince Charming’s charm is being handy around the house or the apartment.  Is it a dying trait in our human males today?  If so, I’ll just marry Youtube.  We wouldn’t need a chapel for the ceremony and with no kids in our future, we’ll have plenty of time left over for those long walks on the beach.  Boyfriends should come with this ‘charming’ trait encoded in them.

With the temporary lapse between male friends, except for Barbra,  I had to come up quick with a plan for me to be able to fix things that broke or went bump in the night… when Barbra bumped into things in the night and broke them.   With no time to waste and no one professional up at three in the morning, I turned to Youtube, always on so long as your brain is.  Formulate your request the right way, with or without sweet talk or a nice candle light dinner and voila… a girl could get anything fixed fast, easy and inexpensively.

Barbra was not up to the task, his achy E.T finger got caught in our new neighbor’s cookie jar as I found that evening after returning home from my 9 to 5.   The week before, he had stuck it in a hornets nest.  An ambulance was called to our place after someone heard Barbra screeching in agony from our balcony with with his finger in the nest and with the Sears catalogue opened to the lady underwear section.   Barbra claimed he was searching for a jockstrap, since his finger needed extra support.

So, I went to work with ye ol’ screwdriver and a still view of the Youtube tutorial on how to fix that leaky faucet dangerously leaking to the apartment below.  I handed Barbra his sandwich as he extended his bandaged finger, swollen all over with bee stings ….Barbra’s allergic… and proceeded with  Youtube  romancing the sink.

 

 

So Now I’m Back….From Outer Space….

I have dealt with aliens though they were not overly green nor sporting tentacles.  The red flags should have been that they had a probing nature to them and slippery when touched by an actual human.  As though they could not and would not be probed back or pinned down or commit to anything.  Plus that really long E.T. finger didn’t help their case.  The one they  tried to divert attention away from by wearing a ring on some other finger.  Or have me wear a ring for them as though we were engaged, thus giving the illusion that this 5 foot 9, dirty blond, male alien standing next to me at Walmart’s checkout was actually real and could vote.

This is the story of one of them and how I almost loved him… it…???  I had a hard time showing him off to my friends because, oddly his image would be the only thing blurred in photos.  I cannot tell you his name to protect the innocent or human, namely, me.   For now we’ll  just call him –Barbra.  One day Barbra and I went underwear shopping, he needed underwear and so amidst the aisles of Calvin Klein male models depicted on packages– Barbra found just the right size for himself.  Yes, it was Walmart, strangely enough it was the only place Barbra felt  comfortable enough to shop.  As we would drive, I’d hear him utter the word ‘home’ to himself every time the bright blue Walmart sign came into view from inside the fog or smog.

Stay tuned for part II when Barbra and I visit a nudist colony…

 

Ain’t No Movie Gonna Tell Me How To Watch It…

Independent film genre means  lifted of any and every obligation to follow the prescribed and done-to-death-in-ten-easy-steps Hollywood movie formula for Hollywood movie results.  Myself as a viewer, I sort of enjoy the thrill of figuring out how I am to feel during a movie according to what’s happening on the screen and not according to an applaud now sign.

I’ll notice the shiny movie poster which has been Hollywoodized and then I go watch the other movie…the one no one has heard of.  The unlit one because theatre staff forgot to change the overhead light to its poster.  Follow a recipe only if you want to succeed in the achievement of ‘boring’.  Yes, yes… I know you’d have to adhere to a recipe for guaranteed results,   However guaranteed equates to mind-numbing  and nobody wants that on their plate or on the screen.

 

 

 

Alpha Bits and Pieces

Mr. Kelloggs why d’ya lie?  All those carbs swimming in our milk for years, threatening to drown themselves  if we didn’t eat them fast or suffer a soggy sentencing.   Oh! Powdered sugared flakes and suspiciously plump raisins, why did you show up years later as high cholesterol and diabetes?

I should have taken a cue from the sugary threats in my bowl when they spelled out c.a.v.a.t.i.e.s and e.m.p.t.y…c.a.l.o.r.i.e.s. swimming around in our bowls having a good time.

At least the  sugar crisp bear came with  his own warning nestled in its title.  The sugar would be crisping our collective arteries.

Its never too late er…o.k. sometimes its a tiny bit late to wash your bowls and not have treats in the morning.  What are we cats???? Lets be grown up about our food intake.  And lets show Kelloggs and Post who the real breakfast boss is in this joint.