bruised with ink…

old_worn_book_shutterstock_image_id_118570552_medium_1000x624

I love working with my hands. My writing is rough, my paper bruised with ink stains.

Quote: Some Inspiration for the Overenthusiastic, Bauvard
Image: Shutterstock

Doing: working, imagining, thinking, watching…   Writing.

:(

out sick

The Crud – the catchall diagnosis of physicians that can’t put a label on why you have a 101 fever, chills, nausea, dizziness, and bones that ache so bad you know they’d show up throbbing and red on an X-ray.

Normally followed by a..

Cocktail shot – a little of this, a little of that, a long needle, the nurse from One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest,  exposure of the derriere region for said nurse and a jab to the aforementioned muscle that hurts like heck(!).

Rapid re-dressing while still rubbing the hurting region, the jab of a square piece of paper with an indecipherable written prescription for an unpronounceable antibiotic, a stern admonishment to rest, drink plenty of fluids and stay inside.  (Yea well feeling like this who the heck is going anywhere but the bed, and bathroom?!)

All of which I laid out $75.00 for, after insurance of course.  I don’t known which hurts the worse, my wallet or my body…..

Any who…. I’ll be back sometime the first of next week. After all you heard the man, rest, juice, and no meandering.

(heartfelt sigh) Just shoot me now….

Odd stuff..

NemesisA current unknown ‘scientific’ hypotheses is that the sun has a companion which is currently a little over 1.5 light years away, give or take a flash. Apparently it throws things at us every 26 million years accounting for the theoretical mass extinction events.   ‘Scientist’ hypothesize that it’s likely a red or brown dwarf named…  are you sitting?  Death Star, or more prosaically Nemesis.

Feeling down now?  Eat a banana.  The tryptophan and Vitamin B6 get together and make baby Serotonins that declare war on mental depression.

Following on that thought, did you know the state of Utah has the highest consumption of porn per ca pita in the U.S.?

On a lighter note, guess what Shaggy’s (of Scooby Do fame) real name is? Norville Rogers.  Yeah, I’d go with Shaggy too…

Speaking of toons, did you know the man that designed the first artificial heart was the person that voiced the cartoon character Tigger?

By the way,  I wonder who counted the 790 islands of Scotland? Seriously…

Which flows beautifully into one of my fave drinks, Irish Coffee.  (Oi! It’s in the general location) Did you know this ambrosia was invented so the story goes to warm up American plane passengers leaving Ireland. Pure genius!

As was Babe Ruth, who’s first professional home run was hit March 7, 1914 in Fayetteville, NC.

Which is not really too far – as the crow flies – from Wilmington, NC where many TV shows and movies are filmed.  And while there is a well loved battleship called the USS North Carolina, there is no Death Star… at least not without imbibing a few Irish Coffees first.

Photo: unknownskywalker

unexpected..

Pickup_Lines_blog

Sol closed his eyes tilted his head up for a moment before opening them and meeting my dazed gaze. He leaned his forehead against mine, and said the last thing I ever expected.

“I’ve been searching my entire life for you.”

I burst out laughing. I couldn’t help it that had to be the funniest thing anyone had ever said to me…ever. I rested my hand on my stomach, and was bent over at the waist when I heard him clear his throat. I looked up, immediately sobered and stood tall, staring him in the eye.

“Does that line generally work well for you?” I asked with as straight a face as I could manage.

He shifted his weight, raised his hands in mid-air and said, “Usually. Women tend to fall at my feet, and beg me to take them home.”

“Arrogance and egotism know no bounds, I see.”

“When you’ve lived as long as I have, you take your kicks where you can get them.”

Source: E.R. Pierce, Duality

Art: Anton Emdin – Isn’t it just, ‘Wow!’

Inky’s Take: The above excerpt made me giggle because I can remember the last time that line was used on me.  I was at a party, sitting with a close friend laughing over some inane thing, and this guy walks up and drops the above line.  At first I blinked in astonishment, looked at my friend, and then we both lost it, bowled over with laughter.  It was the cheesiest line in the world, old as the pyramids, but….it made me laugh, and he stood there with a grin on his face unabashed by our laughter.  What can I say?  I love to laugh, and I love brave men.   So he and I had a blast that night, and still do occasionally.   There’s much to be said for the tried and true… (winks)

White is the…

sillyseal

…color of little bunnies with pink noses.
White is the color of fluffy clouds fluffing their way across the sky.
White is the color of angel’s wings and Angel’s wings.
White is the color of brand-new ankle socks fresh out of the bag.
White is the color of crisp sheets in schmancy hotels.
White is the color of every last freaking, gol-danged thing you see for endless miles and miles if you happen to be in Antarctica trying to save the world, which now you aren’t so sure you can do because you feel like if you see any more whiteness-Wonder Bread, someone’s underwear, teeth-you will completely and totally lose your ever-lovin’ mind and wind up pushing a grocery cart full of empty cans around New York City, muttering to yourself

cracked

That was my first poem ever.

Okay, so it’s not Shakespeare, but I liked it.

Source: James Patterson, The Final Warning

Seal Photo: Hinrich Baesemann

Penquin Photo: found @ Cracked.com

Inky’s Thoughts: (unspoken because she’s *still* consumed with laughter and until further notice, unable to drink her ‘freaking, gol-danged, ever-lovin’ Glenlivet never mind respond!)

Lucila n’ Ovaltine

art -Sunny SydneySo I walked into my local supermarket
to buy my weekly shipment of Kit Kat bars,
Cinnamon Toast Crunch,
and Ovaltine powder mix.

As I shake off the snow on my fake Timberland boots,
my skin,
coated in frozen animation,
thaws into warmth’s teardrops from
the supermarket’s 75 degree vents.

This moist sense of happiness was quickly interrupted
when I heard Wilson Phillips, “Hold On”
over the PA system.

Thankfully, the cutlery isle was just to my left.
So, now, I had plans!

But, before I could commit felony’s song,
I saw her.

A Portuguese goddess
with a strut that can ruin a man’s dignity.

She had Autobahn curves,
dark brown curls of hair & visuals,
and thick flesh meat that even Vegans would envy.

Her face lacked Maybelline coated misapprehension.
Thank God!
Cause I never did like clowns.

After staring longingly at her,
like a crack head with impulsive eyes upon a broken/unlabeled bag of baby powder,
she breezed past my stifled posture and clocked in to work.

She didn’t even get a chance to smell my $500 cologne called “Piece of Me”.

So with new-found urges to grab all my groceries,
like a burglar who really has to pee,
I rush to express checkout.

There she is.

Her register beeps in coupon lady’s rhapsody,
while my register needs a cleanup on Isle 9.

Now it’s my turn.

With girlish inner-screams of boy-band intensity,
I say, “Hi”.

She scans my apples, while I scan her melons.
The melons that the customer ahead of me didn’t want…
…they were on sale.

Go fig.

As if she read my mind,
she asks,

“Are you feeling warm now?”

“All I want is to be the heat in your moment”,
which I almost said.

But, “Now I am”, is uttered.

As she smiled with seductive demure,
she handed me my receipt
with her phone number on back.

As I left the market,
I began to get cold again.

These winds of change
became gusts of numbness.

I locked myself out of my heart.

I turned around to go back inside.

Only to discover,
she didn’t have the key.

Source: Drake J. Eszes

Art: DC Willians

Inky’s Thoughts:  I like the poem.  (shrugs, still clad in pjs a cup of coffee steaming at her side)  What can I say.   I could envision every bit of that poem in action, and that made me smile.   A Saturday morning starting off with a smile?   Better’n chocolate chip pancakes….

Weekend equality…

tgif

Work week n.  The total amount of hours or days that you spend working at a job in one week.

  • There are seven days in one week.

Weekend n.  Saturday and Sunday

  • Five very long days allotted for work.   Two for play. Doesn’t seem fair does it?

Brevity n.  The quality of lasting for only a short period of time.

  • …as in the weekend.  I’m for weekend equality, let’s start a movement. Work for three days – Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday.  Play for three days – Thursday, Friday, Saturday.  And one day – Sunday – to sleep it off, repent, or laze around in your pj’s drinking mimosas, whatever floats your boat.

Everyone who is for Weekend Equality, raise your glass and repeat after me T.G.I.F.

Have a good weekend everyone!

…at morning,

MorningI’m unruffled – I’ll sit with my tea and Muse Cat beside me and listen to the soft chime of the grandfather clock…

Source: John Geddes, A Familiar Rain

Photo: Arvid Axelsson

Inky’s Take:  (stretches and smiles) Today is brand new.  New battles to be fought.  Old battles to be won.

But first, coffee!  Large amounts of black, aromatic, Coffee…..(whimpers) please!

… and of course cream for the Muse Cat.   Ballee! Ballee!

Memory lane…

First Night Parade of Lights, Disco Party & Lantern LaunchShe imagined herself whirling breathlessly beneath the flashing lights of some impossibly chic Manhattan disco. Suddenly, a hand touches her arm. She turns.

‘Pardon me,’ Mick Jagger says, ‘I believe this next dance is mine.’

Source: Francine Pascal, Too Good to be True

Photo: Found @ Montpelier Alive titled ‘Disco Party n’ Lantern Launch’

Inky’s Bit n Bob: What song was #1 on this date in 1975?  (shakes her finger) no fair googling!!

I’ll give you a hint, German group, trio of females and the song only had six original words…. Did you guess it?

Silver Conventions, Fly Robin Fly

Me?  I was more of a Bell Bottom Blues/Eric Clapton kinda gal.  Still when the lights began flashing, you’d find me on the dance floor.  My gal pals and I would dance till they shut the place down…

December Zombie?

zombie_sketch_by_preilly-d5bb22i
PReilly

“She looked around. “Oh, I’ve just got to hug somebody! You!” And she hugged Puck, the little ghost horse.

“And you.” She hugged Pook, and Peek, and even the nose of the moat monster.

“But not you,” she decided, encountering the zombie.

Source: Piers Anthony, Crewel Lye

Art: PReilly @ Deviant Art

Inky’s Thoughts:  Isn’t the zombie drawing, epic?  I’d hug him… after he was muzzled of course, (studies the zombie) maybe a bag over his head… a little Febreze… mmmm… yep, I’d hug him.

Why am I doing zombie’s in December?  Maybe it’s because I just got the entire Xanth series for a family member for Christmas?

Yeah… (eyeing the drawing) that’s my explanation and I’m sticking with it!