Building a timeline of a weekend, I’m trying to finally get down in black/white, or blue/white. It’s easier on the eyes to type in the dark like this.


Stray thoughts: 4/12/2017

had a dream last night and I wish it was a better one, since I have so much
recall to it. Frustrating to say the least.

was at a beach(assuming it was Myrtle), since that is about all I know, and I
was sitting at a table under an umbrella by a pool.

place had a tiny bar/grill being run out of shack that was built to resemble a
huge coconut. I was wearing some form of Hawaiian shirt and a pair of swimming
trunks and a pair of weathered Sanuks. Oh and I had my black fedora on as well.
Can’t forget the fedora. It was hot, but there was a misting fan not too far
away from the table that made it tolerable.
I was sitting there with a yellow legal pad and pen just writing down
bullet points. What I was writing, I have no clue, but someone would walk by
and I’d write something down.

A waitress walked up in a very skimpy bikini, she was wearing a pair of
sunglasses and there wasn’t a hint of a tan line.  I ordered their 15.00 Mushroom & Swiss,
and I was thinking to myself, ‘this better be some burger’, I added some fries
and a Jack & Coke.  I asked her,
“to put it in an adult sized glass if possible”, she smiled and
nodded and went and turned the order in.

flipped the page, wrote down  "Luciana,
late 20’s, waitress, friendly, tall, thin, toned". Out of everything I wrote
down during this dream that is the 95% of what I recall writing, and I wrote

teenage boy delivered the burger and fries; it was an impressive looking
burger. The boy lingered there without saying anything and I guess it was a
custom to tip him on the spot, so I handed him a couple of bills.  Luciana returned with the drink and it was in
a Styrofoam cup. She apologized “that it wasn’t as a glass” and I
said “no worries, I appreciate the attention to the size”, it was a
24 ounce cup, which is much better than the typical tumbler an adult beverage
is normally served in.

flipped back a few pages and wrote “smart/creative” with a couple of
underlines by Luciana’s name. The burger
had a healthy(well maybe not) amount of swiss cheese on it, mushrooms
lathered up in a thick gravy. It took both hands to eat it, so that was a plus.
Dammit(now i’m hungry).

with the misting fan, it was getting hot. I put my papers/phone/keys in the
weathered old beat up messenger bag at my feet, put it on the table and kicked
off the shoes. I pulled off my shirt and took a dip in the pool, swimming down
and back before hopping out and sitting back down. I looked at my cup and
Luciana had filled up again.  I grabbed
the pad from the bag, went to the right page and wrote “very” beside
of the word smart.

started watching a couple that were fighting. I could hear about one out of every
three words. The guy had just finished rubbing sun tan oil on his wife’s back
and I guess when she shifted her head she caught him looking at another woman
that was laying out in the sun. She started to get up and he was trying to hold
her down but her slippery body wouldn’t allow his hands to contain her but it
did allow for her top to be disrupted and she stormed off without knowing one
of her breasts was hanging out.

pointed and stared, men did too without the pointing until the woman disappeared
into the bathroom. The guy sat their with a clusterfucked look on his face. He
was defeated. He knew there was no winning that one whether he was 100% right
or not. A guy to his left that had no business wearing a speedo (neither do I
for that matter) tossed him a beer and said “broads”, like he was
some extra off the set of “The Sopranos”, with his gold accessories
maybe he was.

wrote a few more things down, then finally went up to the bar to pay my tab. Luciana
had me down for a “water”, so I left a generous tip. As I was walking
in I got hit with an errant nerf football; I corralled it and tossed it back to
the kids that were throwing it. I started waking up as I was in the elevator
heading back up.


Write the book the way it should be written, then give it to somebody to put in the commas and shit.

Elmore Leonard

Writing about a writer’s block is better than not writing at all.

Charles Bukowski


When your phone rings and you see the out of state area code of an ex. You are like yeah, thanks but no thanks. Won’t even have fun with a telemarketer from that area code.

Go away. Your presence is not wanted or needed.

Someone sent me a note with this quote in it saying that the post I’m reblogging had a Bukowski feel to it.  That is an insane compliment, but I don’t see it.  The only thing I really see is that discusses a past relationship with no interest to rekindle it. But, what do I know.

Fiction: Bull The Pug Bone #10

Bull The Pug

Bone #10

December 2nd is always a cherished day
in the household of Bull and Miss Tweety. It’s the day they brought home their three
little bundles of fat and joy. It was the also the start of a new tradition of
putting up the family Christmas Tree. They go with one of the smaller versions
that is around three and a half feet tall. Just enough for Bull and Miss Tweety
to use a step stool to get it looking right.

The boys are marveled by the blinking lights and
they have a bad habit of trying to eat the crocheted versions of gingerbread
men and candy canes. They are so disappointed when there is no taste to them.

Miss Tweety surprised them with some real
gingerbread cookies and some egg nog. They jumped at the chance, Bull included,
but he pulled a flask out of his back pocket to make his an “adult doggie”

They finished putting the ornaments on the tree
and Bull ran off down the hall to the bedroom and came back with a wagon full
of presents to put under the tree. Of course, at this point the little boys
were checking names and shaking the ones with their names on it trying to
figure out is in them. Porkchop said “This is either a fruit cake or a brick”,
even with him being a little fat boy he wasn’t a fan of fruit cake. Darrel and
Darryl also had similar packages and the each were stumped on what was inside.

Bull grabbed the remote and pawed at some buttons
which eventually turned on some Christmas music. He and Miss Tweety sat on the
couch and watched their little chipmunks sing along with Alvin, Simon and
Theodore. Bull whispered into Miss Tweety’s ear and she smiled and said, yes
that would make a great Halloween costume next year.

Till next time (maybe it won’t be 4-5 months this