Language Language Missy!

Non-Regional Diction

Write about whatever you’d like, but write using regional slang, your dialect, or in your accent.

language

I Learn A New Non-Language and the results are not stellar:

( Via Text)

Me: Are you going to  do the writing prompt?

FB: what

ME: What?

FB: IDK.

ME: I thought you said you wanted to try your hand at doing some writing.

FB: wink

ME:  I don’t get it, are you going to write or not?

FB: smile

ME: Come on. Seriously are you going to do the prompts or not?

FB: I said yes. Did you not get my messages?

ME: I got a bunch of smiley faces. You might want to reconsider the writing thing if that’s how you’re going about doing it.

FB: Oh. You’re so funny. Everyone talks with these things now. It’s like sign language.

ME: Oh. I get it. Like this? gif

FB: Um.

ME: Oh. Gee. I guess I should study up on this new language before I doing anymore writing. It’s obvious I’m out of touch. Just let me bash my head against the wall for a few hours and I’ll ….

brb

Dear Holiday Buzzzzz Killerz

Straight up, I want to make it clear the ‘WAR ON CHRISTMAS’ is a bunch of hooey.

But there is an attitude out there that needs to be called out and I’m here to  do it:

 I would dearly appreciate if those among us who have appointed themselves the “Keepers of The Calendars” would just step back and let people enjoy the holiday in whichever way the Spirit moves them.

If people want to put up their Christmas Trees on Thanksgiving, STFU and let them put up their tree and keep your bony fingers OUT from under their noses.

If they want to Deck the Halls before December 1st how’s about YOU just letting them make things a little more cheerful for themselves and THEIR friends and family without YOU shooting your mouth off and ruining their fun?

In case you haven’t noticed- times are hard people have a lot to be sad about for different reasons, especially at this time of the year. So if they’ve found a way to celebrate would you FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS THAT SPARKLE LET THEM.

And before you go on a screed about when people should go shopping and why they’re working on YOUR HOLIDAY SCHEDULE  may I suggest you take a look at their bank accounts or ask then what’s going on in their lives before you slam ” shaming posts” all over social media about their bad behavior.

Some of you would make Scrooge blush and Dickens would probably sit there with his pen in hand and his brain would short-circuit because how do you capture a mean spirited Holiday shamer in ink? Hell. You’d have Stephen King and Clive Barker in tears and NOT in a good way.

So dammit, read a Christmas Carol, watch the movie the cartoon whatever- but I think that  Scrooge is alive and well in your heart and I’m pretty sure he’d rather NOT be.

Even Scrooge learned to have fun during the holidays-

Word.

amm

scrooge

Do Not Open Until Christmas

A Tale of Two Cities

If you could split your time evenly between two places, and two places only, which would these be?


There are two places that have always captured my imagination , two places I would go to in a heartbeat if there was a way.

I know, I know- if you really want something you have to at least try to get there, you have to take the chance, make the leap or  you will for sure  never make it and the regret you feel will haunt you to your grave.

But in my defense unless Doctor Who like technology shows up in my lifetime ( though it doesn’t matter because technically he could show up after I die or before, time travel is like that)  I won’t get to go to these places.

I want to be there One Minute before the Big Bang happens

bigbangnasa

and I want to be there one minute after the Universe dies.

dont open

Crazy right?

Well, there’s a reason for it.

I want to see the calm before the storm, I want to know what it felt like when everything in the Universe was a ‘singularity’ (‘singularity’  I’ve learned,  is a fancy way of saying, we don’t know).

Maybe that is the time when ‘we’ were all one with life and death and God and the Devil.

Personally, I think it hated that situation so  much it blew itself apart because I’m willing to bet those four elements drove each other insane- and that could account for at least one effed up planet.

And as for the minute after- wouldn’t you like to see the sum of creation? It started here and ended up there. What gets left behind?

Does the Universe sigh in relief because its quiet at last? Scream because it’s going to have to go through it all again one day?

What happens at the moment life winks out?

I’ve sat with friends and family and pets at the moment they passed. One minute they’re there and the next they’re gone. And that void that comes right after they’ve left-  it wraps itself around you like a cold pair of arms and you could swear everything around you went dark. In reality I think the darkness is inside of you and it clouds your vision and all of your other senses.

It just looks that way.

And I wonder:

Is that what happens in that minute after the Universe dies?

Cabinet

I ‘m not 100% sure-  but I’d like to see it for myself.

And who knows a minute before, a minute after- maybe that memory will live forever.

Even if nothing else does.

storm

Hey Ho Let’s Go

Melpomene ~ Muse of Tragedy

Melpomene  is the Greek Muse of dramatic tragedy.

I think it’s great, if you write about tragedy- like I do ( horror and the supernatural are heavy on the tragedy theme)-then you are inspired by a woman who walks around with a human face ( sure it’s a mask…sure it is)  or a sword in her hand.

I have been known to walk around with a hockey stick when there is no ice or hockey puck within miles of where I’m standing and on more than one occasion I have been known to rip people’s faces off so I feel a bit of a bond with Melpomene

In addition, I do like the idea of a face waving, sword swinging creature walking through my head and throwing the lights on when I can’t quite do it myself.

I figure that with one look at her any little dark creatures that are roaming around my brain and killing off my stories will be running for cover or better yet a new home where we won’t even be sharing a zip code.

I’m also inspired by Mozart. I do some of my best work when I’m listening to Mozart. I can’t decide though- was he also inspired by Melpomene ? Is that why I write better with Mozart in my ear?

Maybe.

All I know is, they make a great team.

Just A Thought

taschen_magic5

I love horror stories.

And in the universe of Horror, if you take lives or betray your fellow human the Devil is supposed to grant you something like power or wealth or immortality.

There’s going to be Hell to pay soon and I’m wondering what that’s going to look like.

 

And One Day I Went There

wpid-fb_img_1445867653747.jpgTextures are everywhere: The rough edges of a stone wall. The smooth innocence of a baby’s cheek. The sense of touch brings back memories for us. What texture is particularly evocative to you?

I can’t remember where I heard it or when but I’m guessing it was from my friend Clyde  who knew about all things Dinosaur Related.

Clyde  was seriously into Dinosaurs- we were about ten years old at the time- and I was into Archeology and all things Mummy Related so we always had a lot to talk about.

Anyway one day we were slamming the tether ball around the pole and trying to hit each other with it ( I think it was called roping when you grabbed the rope and whipped it around ) and Clyde  informed me that the way you could tell the difference between a rock and a bone was that if you put a bone on your tongue it would stick because bones are porous and if it was a rock it wouldn’t,

I bounced the ball off his head. ” Really?”

He assured me it was true.

” You just want me dig up a bone and lick it?”

It was one way to be sure, Clyde  told me. Besides, it was the only way he knew.

I bounced the ball off of his head again. ” Good try short stack. I’m not falling for that one.”

Clyde changed when we were in high school.

We would be talking and his eyes would roll up into head and he’d start talking to God- sometimes the Devil and when he came back he would hold my hand and tell me it was getting harder to hear hear his own thoughts anymore.

One day, Clyde  was just gone- I mean the person who I grew up with. His body was there but he would talk in random words and numbers.

His family moved him to an institution in the same state his Uncle lived in. Clyde  and his Uncle had always been close and he wanted to care for him.

I went a few times to visit but Clyde  didn’t know me, didn’t know himself.

After the last trip I took I went home to my Mom’s because my dog had died ( thanks for the kick in the head God ) and I was in the backyard gathering up his toys when I came across one of Sham’s chewed up ham bones.

I thought about what Clyde  had said.

I held the bone up and shrugged.

I went to the hose, washed it off, wiped it on my jeans and set the bone on my tongue.

I’ll be darned- it did stick to my tongue.

It tasted like earth, like sadness. I chomped it a bit and wondered what it would be like to snap it in half with my jaws, what it would feel like to crunch at the shards, to spit out the remains and keep working at it until nothing was left.

My friend was gone, my dog was gone too and I was in my back yard chewing on a bone and you know what?

At the exact moment I needed it I felt very much alive.

My friend  who I called ” Clyde”   in this post died in 2001.

You Know What? F$#@ You

wpid-fb_img_1447976775154.jpg

So as near as I can figure it, instead of saying ” Keep those Syrians  out of the States” because you know- ain’t nobody home but us good ol’ God fearing folk- we’re certainly not racists.

Uh-Uh not us.

The way it works now is that all of a sudden the flag snappers are all on a screed about not helping Refugees until we help our HOMELESS Vets.

Oh since fucking WHEN has this country as a body cared about the Homeless let alone its Homeless Vets.

I have lots of friends who advocate for the Homeless and nobody is kicking down their door asking how they can help,

Until the Syrians started to RUN FOR THEIR LIVES I haven’t heard anyone put the  question about our Homeless and how it’s SUCH a high priority that we help them,

I work in Pioneer Square in Seattle, I see homeless Vets among the rest of the men at the Mission every morning and I have not seen ONE of you sons of bitches who are all of a sudden slamming things on social media about OUR HOMELESS VETS doing a damn thing when:

I carried a drunk guy semi-conscious out of the middle of the street ALONE because cars and buses were inching their way around him and I was terrified he’d get hit.

When I got him to the sidewalk and tried to get him to agree to let me get him a first aid car, I could see him struggling to talk.  I told him to take his time. He said something that I will never forget. ” This isn’t me Ma’am. This isn’t ME.” He said and I looked straight into his ruined eyes, past the sick on his face and said ” I know. “

I know there are Vets among the guys sleeping on the sidewalk and by the way, I don’t see the milk of human kindness or concern flowing from the people who step over these guys but I do hear a lot of ideas about how to run them out of town once and for all.

So screw you and your fake concern.

Don’t tell me you’re sticking up for our Vets- let alone the homeless ones.

You hate Syrians and Refugees more than you care about YOUR OWN.

The Homeless Vets have already served our Country.

Don’t you dare  serve your racist rants on their backs.