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So, You Need a Change?

We’re going to be shuffling things around here within the next few days to a week. Revamping and shakin’ things up! I’m sending some of my short stories off for publishing and some of the requirements is that they not be published anywhere else.

So, to that end, I need to delete some on the short stories and poetry. I’ll hopefully crank out some new stuff soon, though. I was thinking of making Life’s Glow three part series a constant on here as in more parts, say weekly – Margaret and her sister are just awesome characters to write for. Not sure yet, though. I’ll keep you posted!

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Hell in a Bucket: A Night Out On Facebook – A Play

Have you ever had one of those nights? They’re pretty frequent for me -spent at home on the internet.

Well, one night boredom had set in. So, to relieve said boredom, I, as is my MO, tossed up a ridiculous status and stood back to see what happened.

Here is the result of that night. I kept the result and titled it.

Hell In A Bucket: A Night Out On Face Book – A Play

Status: Robert Gregory has been locked out of his apartment by his cat.

Dana Stewart: Good cat.

Robert Gregory: Haha . . . you enlisted him to do that, didn’t you, Dana! *sigh* Figures . . .

Kylie Eastham: What the . . . How did that happen?

Robert Gregory: My cat is a show off, Kylie! He wanted to show me who’s boss. . . . Like there was any question!

Melissa Kirkland Gaines: Now that is funny!

Zethra Nix: Okay now you have me curious. How exactly did the cat lock you out?

Robert Gregory: Superior wits???

Zethra Nix: Obviously . . . *eyeroll* . . . All cats have superior wits. It just comes down to IF they choose to use them against you. I am wondering HOW he used his superior wits to lock you out. Was it as simple as shutting the door or was it something more elaborate?

Robert Gregory: Ehhh . . . yeah . . . it was actually his sense of humor. He told me this hilarious joke when I took him for his evening constitutional. Well as I was ROCL-ing (that’s rolling on the concrete laughing), apparently he thought it would be even more hilarious to make a mad dash for the door while I was hysterically incapacitated and put one of those buckets with oatmeal or green slime (in this case it was some catnip concoction, for irony, you know) that topple when one opens a door and splashes on the unsuspecting person’s head!

So . . . as he was preparing his Coupe de Gras of hilarity . . . the bucket toppled accidentally, landed upside down on him and now he is covered in a catnip concoction, totally blitzed out of his mind and he neglected to unlock the door. And, being that he is STILL blitzed, he could care less where the hell I am! The last thing I heard was him singing along to “Hell In A Bucket” by the Grateful Dead . . . (He LOVES that song, and of course more irony for his sick, twisted sense of humor!) . . .

The moral of this story . . . well, I’m not sure that there is one . . . with the exception of never let your cat mix the drinks!

Zethra Nix: OMG! Don’t make me laugh so hard. My lungs cannot handle it with this cold!

He sounds like my kind of cat. I sure hope he has a fitting name to match his personality.

Robert Gregory: You know, when he told me his name was Nipsy, I didn’t get the connotation until now! The twisted little bastard! He’s a friggin’ addict!

Zethra Nix: Yep, definitely my kind of cat. Let him know when he gets bored toying with you he always has a home here with me.

Robert Gregory: Yeah, he’s pretty much got the upper hand in this particular situation. But, it’s not the first time a pussy’s gotten the better of me. Probably won’t be the last.

Zethra Nix: hehe I will give you credit for not being in denial of that. There is no “probably” about it . . . unless you are going to avoid all pussy in the future it is bound to happen again!

Robert Gregory: Ahhh, yep, it’s unavoidable. I’m addicted to the Nipsys of the world as much as those sweet little furry things are addicted to hell in a bucket! Drinks are on him tonight. Cheers!

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An Oldie – The Naked and Famous, and Karmic Vengence

I wanted to post an old short story I edited and trimmed a bit here and there. It’s called Setting Grace and is one of my favorites. The setting for most of the story is a concert of The Naked and Famous - one of my fave band, lately.

Anyway, here is the shortlink to Setting Grace. Take care, and until next time . . . Enjoy the story!

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“Hey, you on Facebook?” “…Um, who isn’t?!”

Well, in the event you are, amble on over to Crook’s Eye View on Facebook page!

Today, all morning/afternoon, I’ve been showing the steps-in-process of my latest painting. Come over and check it out! Here are some highlights.







That’s it so far . . . Feel free to like us on Facebook and see all the ridiculously sarcastic pics and posts!


My Search and Its Fruition

So, yeah, I love a good writing challenge. Looking around WordPress, I found a friggin’ awesome one – Jeremy’s Daily Challenge. This one is for the weekend and is my first. I truly hope I fare well on this one and hit the mark because it’s definitely a challenge. Four prompts one can use individually or together in one creative venture.

Well, being the lazy bird that I am, I went straight for the all-in-one challenge! The prompts: a picture, one word and its definition, three phrases, and a word bank. These are as follows:

The picture:


Sister from National Library of Ireland on the Commons

The one word defined:

Palimpsest  [PAL-imp-sest]: (n) - 1. A writing surface such as a parchment that has been reused after partially or completely erasing the original text.

 2. Something reused but still showing traces of its earlier form.


The phrases:

Enlightened awakening

Love creation

Let it flow


The word bank:

  • Beer
  • Pecs
  • Wooden
  • Freelance
  • Cornerstone

So, given these parameters, last night in 100 – 200 words (mine came to an even 200) I set out to spin more yarn. The result is as follows, but forewarned: it is probably at least rated NC-17, possibly R. Just so you know. It’s titled Sister Palimpsest.

The story:

Sister Palimpsest

“Yep, that’s me in the middle in the habit.”

“No! You were not! Please tell me you’re lying!” Her revelation shocked Cabot to the core. “You were a nun? When? What happened?”

Just past the cusp of mutual orgasms and a twelve pack of beer, they lay in her squeaky, wooden bed, “Let’s just say I had an enlightened awakening. Love creation happens here, not in the cowardly confines of a convent,” Celeste said in her low, dusky tone.

 “Hell yeah! I say let it flow!”

The bed squeaked more as she arose naked. Feeling nostalgic, she said, “I’ll be right back. Okay, babe?”

Cabot pondered what the true reason for Celeste’s complete transformation – what prompted this woman of faith, this cornerstone of the convent, to become a freelance sex provider? Before she reentered the room, he asked, “For real, Celeste, what made you leave your faith? Confess.” Cabot raised his arms in humorous pose, “It was my massive pecs, wasn’t it?! I’ve got some mean guns.”

She returned and confessed. She hadn’t lost her faith. “It’s just reformed.” She wore the old habit, head covered in black. Not believing his luck, he took her. They were righteous harmony incarnate.

There it is – another questionable, immoral yarn, but I’m sure true to someone’s life and/or nature. Thanks for reading and hope y’all’s weekend is as fun as Celeste‘s (devious smiley face) and Cabot‘s (more devious grins). Until next time . . .





Off One, On to the Next

Well, with the Speak Easy’s summertime hibernation, I’ve had to pull out and find a new focus for my writing angst. So, I found this – Sunday Photo Fiction. It is simply as the name implies – look at the photo, write a 200 word story based on your impression. My macabre little tale follows this week’s given prompt. Hope you enjoy the story: Sidewalk’s Spent Shells.

The prompt:67-07-july-6th-2014

The story:

“I don’t know. I like Metallica. Always have. I could listen to that song over and over. They’re great in my opinion.” Henna said.

“Wha- Wha- What about my façade gave you the impression that I cared for your opinion? Tell me so I don’t make the same mistake next time,” Chip stammered sarcastically without humor behind his derisive words. “Next time I hear For Whom the Bell Tolls, I’m loosin’ an AK on Foothills Mall!”

Henna giggled at her younger teenage brother, “Chip, you don’t have an AK. Do you even know what the hell one looks like? And by the way, I forgive you. Your sin toward me is forgiven. Therefore, if you died in the next hour,” Henna forced the words past gritted teeth, “you won’t burn in Hades!”

“Kiss my ass!” Chip barked.

Henna and Chip left the house together with few harsh words, though Chip’s sour attitude still permeated the air. The sidewalk tripped Chip’s steps in trepidation as Henna stepped freely when the vintage Eldorado screamed around the inner city neighborhood’s corner. A volley of bullets put Chip under the earth on trial, while Henna blew into the air on wings of angels.

There you have it! Hope you enjoyed and devoured it as the tasty tidbit of telling fiction that it may be. If you have time, feel free to spin some yarn of your own and link it to the site! Take care, all, and have a good weekend.


Life’s Glow Entry Three

The Speak Easy. I had to throw one more up before they go on hiatus for summer. What can I say? I love these little characters of Life’s Glow! This one is titled Life’s Glow Part Three: Margaret’s Swinging Muse, So to Speak.

The prompt:

The sentence:

“It was the only thing she regretted.”

The story:

Life’s Glow Part Three: Margaret’s Swinging Muse, So to Speak


            Margaret stood on her tip-toes holding the dandelion in the air and becoming visibly flustered. “What are you doing, Mar?” Anna asked, knowing she may regret Margaret’s answer.

            “I’m trying to fly. It was on the video we saw at school so I know I can do it, but . . . It’s not working!” She yelled taking the flowering down and thrusting it into the sky, hoping upon hope after hope that the dandelion would begin to pull her upward. “Is there some kind of magic word or something? I wonder . . .”

            “Oh my God, Margaret! It’s a cartoon! You know that won’t work!”

            “Yes, it will! Teacher said that we can do anything we set our minds to, that nothing is impossible! The Lord is our shepherd and will help us accomplish anything!”

            “Yeah, well, Sister Mary-Catherine lies! You cannot fly with a dandelion. Now, a helium balloon . . . hmm . . .” Anna considered the idea and possibilities.

            “No she doesn’t! She is just young and maybe fibs a bit like the Riddler on Batman, soda speak, but she does not lie! My favorite teacher in the world would not lie to me. I have faith, soda speak.” She was becoming more flustered and troubled that Anna may not be fibbing herself, “Anna, why do they call it ‘soda speak’? I mean, I know it means when one thing kind of means something else, but I haven’t mentioned soda this whole time, yet, I know I used that right. I mean, not Dr. Pepper, or Coke, or Sprite, I didn’t mention one soft drink at all.”

            Anna burst, almost rolling onto the ground in laughter, “Please, Mar, tell me you’re kidding. It’s not about soft drinks! It’s not ‘soda speak’, it’s ‘so to speak’. And yes, it’s when one thing is kind of like another, mm, so to speak.” She winked at Margaret.

            “Oh. Okay. No wonder my friend Henry kind of looked at me funny. Anyway, I like Henry. He saves me swings.”

             “Ewww, Margaret’s got a boyfriend!” Anna began to sing the phrase over and over.

            Margaret tried to one-up her sister with a bit of reverse psychology, “Why yes I do. He wants to marry me, and for us to have a family, a house and two cars. So there!” She said with a broad, prominent display of her tongue.

            “Dinner,” Dad yelled.

            “Dad, you are not going to believe what Margaret just asked,” she giggled more at her younger sister.

            “So, kids? School? What has your mother and my hard earned money educate you with today?” he said, alluding to the fact that they paid for a private school for both girls.

            “Dad? My teacher wouldn’t lie to me, would she?” she iterated the day, about the watched video and the “anything is possible” portion of Sister Mary-Catherine’s presentation.

            “Well, honey, she was speaking in terms of imagination and dreams. Anything you can imagine within certain physical parameters, you can do. She was speaking metaphorically,” Dad said.

            “She was speaking in Soda Speak, Margaret,” Mom said, with a wry smile to her husband and a silent giggle. The girls, they agreed most nights, were the best entertainment for the price of admission that God could’ve ever given the couple – minus the future cost of college, they mused.

            “Oh, okay,” Margaret said, shyly relieved, though inwardly shamed a bit by being the butt of a joke.

          Bedtime came and went with Anna remarking on the day’s events and how Margaret had a new boyfriend named Henry. She asked Margaret for her permission to call him Oh Henry or The Chocolate Swinging Hero. Margaret feigned sleep as if she heard nothing.

            Dandelions began to blow wistfully as their petals kissed Margaret’s cheek, and suddenly, she and Henry were flying. The bright moon guided their way over the Tennessee Valley and they flew as if they had magic on their heels. As they flew, Henry told Margaret he would always hold a swing for her on the playground. He offered her a drink of his Dr. Pepper and said he would always be there for her, so to speak. Margaret said she didn’t like Dr. Pepper. It was the only thing she regretted. Not liking the soda, she wondered if that detail would make Henry not like her. Henry said, “It’s okay. I don’t like it ether. I just wanted something to talk about.”

Take care, Speak Easy! See you soon. And take care, everyone else!


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