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Why are there not cutsie poems about Fall? Something like we have for Spring, “Spring has sprung, The grass is riz, I wonder where the women is.” I think it’s a little difficult to write about a season that is the shoulder between summer and winter. I mean, it’s not called fall for nothing right? …Read More!… Falling          Our story begins at M.B.A. (Male Bathers Anonymous) Me: My name is Ed and I’m a bather. Crowd: Hi, Ed. Me: I last bathed last night with candles, lemongrass tea and bubbles. Guy at the back: Awww, Dude! Where to start? Okay… I …Read More!… Skinny Dipping The cell phone dinged. I was in a meeting the other day when a cell phone went off; it was some incomprehensible intonation of Beethoven’s fifth, Jingle Bells or a variant of a mystical, burbling, computer generated cat in heat; it was hard to tell. A following announcement was made to …Read More!… George Orwell is Alive and Well It was an epic battle between truculent man and virulent beastie. Armed with a shop vac, two big honkin’ cans of industrial strength insect assassinator and one can of expanding foam, I attacked. Clad in work boots, heavy duty chainsaw resistant pants, long sleeve shirt, pro hockey body armour, a funky hat with mosquito mesh …Read More!… Insect Heaven Makes for Good Friendships Winds of Change Achingly Cambering to the winds of transformation A howling Maelstrom Refusing to permit known comfort Avaricious T’ward wrecked, tear sodden soil Roots grapple With a last inhalation
…Read More!… Winds of Change |
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