Hello, Far looking space cowboys!

This blog is an infinitesimal blip across the starry sky, long neglected, but for the next forty days will be sprung anew with new works and old memories!

What shall transpire? I frankly don't know. Each day of Lent (remember, Sundays are off) will sprout a new blog, as is commanded. If you have any comments, perhaps I'll oblige.

Meanwhile, I'll be dusting off my dusty style, and promising to fill you in in the least metaphorical way possible. Concrete examples make great shoes, as they always say.

Anyway, It's good to be back. It's weird feeling my voice crack under the lack of use. I almost wrote misuse... but realized that it could be taken too many ways.
|Regardless, as always,

Waffles!

Three Days of Whiskey and Wine - 2: Lies

Half the day ceased to be before the three awoke. With a minimum amount of searching, the couple found food that the quiet one could eat. He could only eat non-living things, while in the couple the man preferred food that was alive, and the woman couldn't stand anything with legs.

Under the hot, hot, heat of the post-noonpoctalyptic sun, the tall quiet one became a mirage, promising his return as he melted into the sewers. The couple gathered the belongings he left behind; a corn cob pipe, an old silk hat, to lumps of coal and a button, and used them to barter for an umbrella. They then climbed atop a slow moving caterpillar as it ambled its way into town, and kissed chastely under the bumbershoot's shade.

The caterpillar decided to quit moving in front of a poster showing a lobster composing on a typewriter, a glass of whiskey in its claw. The couple went their separate ways at this point, she to find bleach sold by munchkins, he to escape the heat within a giant cow. Above them, the sky buzzed with the wings of giant mechanical insects. The hooded milk police were out, enforcing the practice of calcium absorption. This left the woman feeling distinctly ill at ease.

The couple found each other by the bronze artist – who, horrified at what his art had become, used himself as his greatest casting. When discovered, the city put him on display in a public park, near the library. The couple embraced, then noticed that they had drawn the attention of a man in a hood. Terrified, they raced for safety, dodging giant beetles and caterpillars, as the great mechanical moth (glowing red in the setting sun's light) cast its blazing glare about the city for the lovers.

The couple stopped before a massive anthill built up behind the glass tower where they had watched the sky explode the night before. The hooded police were frightened of the insects that stood as big as people, and would not come near – but the ants would capture and devour the couple too, if they discovered. They slowly dug into the dirt, covering each other to escape notice, and waited until the hooded ones became bored. Unfortunately for the couple, a giant worm appeared and swallowed them whole before the hunt was over. The world went dark, and the couple knew no more.

Miraculously, they lived. The worm left them soiled but unhurt, above ground in a wood not far from the couple's hovel. They washed, and ate, then passed wine between them as they laughed themselves to sleep with stories of their day.

Time passes, the stars encircle the sky. Day 2 weakens and slips away.

Winter is Coming

This morning the first tendrils of Winter were knocking gently on my window.

“Go away, Winter, we don’t want any,” I said. It did not listen.

The night before had been a bowler’d affair, helping theatre patrons listen to stories on a tablet that informed their viewing of the theatre to be seen. As for the show? If I don’t think too deeply, I like it.

Leaving the stage behind us my ears told me that in no uncertain terms should I be leaving them naked. I apologized for their pink embarrassment and continued with my journey.

What else? I must find a place to type that is not next to a sleeping person. It is obnoxious. I must also soon make some eggs.

Eggs are, after all, the promise of the springtime after winter has come.

Nothing too exciting, just a stretch of the fingers

Here we go with a new blog adventure!  Hello friends, I have missed you. What is new? Well for one, this transmission to you is being sent from the loveliest of new homes, Canada.

Yes sir, folks and lizards, I am now a permanent-style visitor of the metropolis of the north, Toronto, Ontario. Or, as the locals call it, T.O.

Or T-dot.

Or Hogtown.

I like Hogtown, but then again I’m partial to pigs.

What am I doing with all my time? This is a good question. At the moment, the internet is taking up too much of my time, and the amount of Real Work™ (PS, alt control t, remember it!) is not what it should be. Perhaps I can ask my nifty landlords if there are yard projects to do.

 I also should create an office space. This might require an air filter and a bit of organization, but the current arrangement of my digs makes me conflicted. Beds are for relaxing, not working, and yet the only chaired work station is… occupied.

At this very moment, I am writing this not to stretch my fingers and my mind, so I can delve the chewy bits of a script that is due on Monday. Wish me luck, there’s lots of gristle about!

"Just an update," he said, "I'm just here to tell everybody what's up."

And he was about to do just that - when his computer crashed its motorcycle outside of Jonsie's Sports Bar and Grille.

Luckily for me, my computer did n't crash, and I'm able to tell you all about my days.

My days are filled with plays.

that's not all too helpful, try again.

I teach ... computer age philosophy. buy my student's would rather watch tv....

no. that's a song lyric. try again.

The pile of Snow north of the sloan house is loosing its will to live, but the mess in my kitchen is amassing arms near the boarder near the boarder of my sanity.

We might be on the brink of another cold war with Russia... or a world war with Russia. I didn't think I'd live to see that happen again. I think there's a game of thrones analogy in there about the big summers and winters, but i'm not sure I want to dig for it.

I am really enjoying being a substitute high school teacher, a college professor, a gymnastics coach, a drama director all while organizing a big theatre festi val for the summer... but I still feel like I'm not getting anything done!

and with that, Waffles!

Time to Fly!

Let’s see, my plane leaves at 5, that is if there was a plane, and for the sake of this argument let’s say there was. 

Ok, so there’s this plane. 

And then a chicken arrives and promptly gets sucked into the jet engine, causing the plane to crash and everybody on it to perish.

 "Dang," says the writer, "I just killed about 200 people with a chicken for no good reason."

But wait! 

There’s a curse on the Rolex one of the business executives now being gently nibbled by a catfish. You see, this (former) living (former) business executive bought it off a street peddler, and former street peddler (now a jail bird too for the act of peddling stolen Rolexes)  gathered said Rolex off of a gypsy named Dan, to took it from the husband of a wife named Strega. 

And good ole' Strega, she laid a curse on the watch: that whomever acquires it unfairly shall suffer an less-than-enviable fate… 

You can imagine what will happen to the poor catfish who, at this time, is ingesting said watch… 

While you ponder aquatic doom that befalls both the fish and the angler who will eventually noodle it and find the cursed object… simply imagine what kind of curses Strega places on her Tupperware! 

And with that,

Waffles.

Big and Little things

Hello,

It's late and I should be doing other things... but I miss you. I miss this.

and by missing this, you have missed out on so many little things. Big things too.

I'm married now.
She lives in Canada.

Next time I blog, I may be in Canada too.

Right now, I'm in Iowa. In a big brick house. My brother and family moves in with me in two weeks.

 I teach gymnastics, high school theatre, college level public speaking and occasionally substitute. Just got off a three week stint as a Biology teacher. It was a lot of fun!

Tomorrow we send out the call for Wapsifest '14 "The Bike Ride of the Valkyrie" someday I should write about Wapsifest '13...

It has been a hard, cold winter but the ice may go out of there winter like it always does, the week of March 17th.

I'm really looking forward to spring.

Waffles!