Where In The World Is The Cavegirl? Spitting in the Wind

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Spitting in the Wind

Some people in my family accuse me of being a female John Boy Walton. I am not. I don’t have a big mole on my face. My mole, which is considerably smaller than a dime, is on the front of my right thigh. I have named it Chicago.

That happened about 4 years ago, shortly after I moved to this midwestern river valley town.

Boy D was flying to his grandparents in Las Vegas. He said that he had a layover in Boston. That’s when my mole became Chicago. I had to show him how Boston was far east and Las Vegas west.

We used the mole to illustrate other trips…his and mine.

When he was studying geography in school we used it to do the state capitals.

JB Walton and I do write, but my mole, I think, is more useful.

House of Cards

You do know we live a lie, don’t you?

“House of cards” is an ancient adage meaning that something has no foundation.

Well, that’s us, literally.

If you took away everyone’s credit cards a major financial collapse would occur.

All of those acres and acres of mini-mansions would be ghost hovels. Almost no one lives to what they earn.

My brother does, but he is rare.

We are all fakes.

We are chained to the masters of money.

We are slaves.

Puff the Howling Baby

There is a commercial on teevee that pisses me off. It is a lie wrapped up in a banner of truth. It is an antismoking campaign called Infect: Truth. First of all they stole my “infection.” Second they use provocative hot-button topics, such as this: 12,000 children are left motherless from cigarette smoking. (I am paraphrasing here.)

That is a lie. Cigarettes are slow poisons. They do not kill young mothers. There is no way any doctor could prove that. Yes, I know how stats can be used to prove anything, but this is a bald lie. (I do like all of those screaming, crawling baby dolls littering the street though…very graphic.)

The American Lung Association announced that since the taxes on cigs in Illinois had been put in practice that more people have found incentive (financial) to quit. Wait a minute. The tax hike happened last Monday. How would they know people have quit?

Lies Lies Lies.

Now I am not pro-smoking, even though I do smoke. It is a sick habit, still you cannot lie in your attempt at behavior mod. Come up with something more truthful.

Lost My Muse

My sailor is off on a cruise…for how long I do not know. I understand and respect his decision. I wish we could remain friends. I wish he thought I was valuable enough that he would help me with my writing.

You know Simon on “American Idol?” He’s like that. He doesn’t bullshit writegirls.

Wretch

My own generation makes me sick. The men play joker or devil and the women play princess or living-dead girl.

Jokes are okay, but if taken too far they become boring or hurtful

A devil patina is hot, but if its skin deep then it is evil.

Princess: If you are over 12 and have garments with “princess” written on them …GROW UP! That doesn’t work.

And the gloomy living-dead girl thing is a bore. Oh Oh, so your life is/was worse than anyone else’s on the entire planet. Boohoo.

You are all cynical losers. You already knew that and you wear it as well as you can.

No, Thank-you

She said that single people weren’t usually allowed, but the group decided that I was golden (her word) and an exception should be made. Would I come? Saturday, at 9? I never knew that they were here, right in my own backyard. Sure, yeah, right…I’ll come over and let your husband and the other husbands fuck me. It’s right at the top of my wish list.

With Me Again

Men are all over my garden. Adam’s long-throated Easter lilies are blooming and the flame orange butterfly plant from Heath is a platter of blooms. Other lilies from Doc and Jason and Charlie are perfect… pink, yellow, and a soft ecru.

I love cut flowers but the gift flora I can plant in my gardens is the best. Each year the men come back for a brief display, say “hi” and disappear. It’s truly lovely.