Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Did you Mean Coitus?

I thought I would take a break at work to learn a bit more about the Cisco Cius device, which is Cisco's business-specific tablet offering.

I must have been in the wrong place at the right time because not only did I fail to get search results, I was assaulted with a very aggressive/suggestive search suggestion.

I was going to follow up with a "coitus" search, but instead I snapped up my laptop and hustled the hell out of there. I'm not in the business of getting caught in the act.
A post-coitus Cius face-to-face. All business, of course.

Sunday, September 25, 2011

your body the magnet

repulsive endeavor
that i never
end over ender
remember the fender
refender the member
crumpled entendre
and tender

and tender

resend her
the ceder the cinder
the trunk full of clothes
plot full of holes
yes full of knows
holes in your hose
the penchant for ash
country hair flash
dusty insultress

dusk swallow us
Fox chasing chicken
impulsing in rust
plot starts to thicken

cant quite catch the cusp
questing ionic
circle to trace
ironic the chill
of break and mistaken

you enter tainted
room full of traps
insider floors
incinder the snaps
bird wet a nest
fish castanet

two enders end
over end
meet and repair
this sorcery
is the blackset widow
tangled in bed
webbed to the window

Monday, September 19, 2011



I don't have the time or the money for details. This guy wants me to fork over $700 of my God-earned cash for details? The car is a fucking bruise-colored PT Cruiser. A PT Cruiser! This guy is practically certifiable.

I push the door open from the lobby into the quiet outdoors, but only partway. I keep my body inside. Just the eyes go out, I need to stay cool. For now. The parking lot is hot, shadowy, sparse. That's a word, right? Sparse? I think it just might be. 

My lucky day.


Inside I can hear "Jim" still slobbering bullshit into the mouthpiece of a oil-stained handheld, detailing a plan involving bleeding and brake pads. Disgusting. Beside me, silver balls acting as bells wait to cheer on my impending escape.

I think I'm gonna run.

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Disconnect to Connect

To the mountains, but not beyond. Driven by the need to reset (to rest,) once we arrived in the mountains we didn't even attempt to interact with other humans. Sasquatch, yes. Definitely yes.

The leading party (more to come!!) consisted of five youthful coeds, of which I displayed the least leadership and the most aggressive 'quatch call. We arrived on Friday afternoon, ready to "camp." Camping turned into cabining, complete with leather couches and not-so-basic cable. As the theme of our weekend was "Disconnect to Connect," I asked everyone to pull the batteries out of their cell phones and keep the TV off. After this speech, I slinked off my soapbox to the empty stares of those gathered and tripped over at least three phone chargers in my rush to turn on the air conditioner.

On Friday night Logan taught us how to perform 'quatch calls. Our first round of calls only succeeded in evoking lust from a colony of frogs under the porch, but from there things got interesting in a furry hurry. Keeping a low voice and a low profile, I belched out the perfect pitch of 'quatch cacophony while Logan pummeled a tree with a hiking/wizard staff. Not five seconds later, across the valley and through the laurel, some animal - probably a dying goat, tortured mallard, or indentured servant... but possibly a 'quatch - answered the call.

It's kinda queasy bein' green.

We cheered for about as long as it takes for a park ranger to chop down a blade of grass before we realized that getting inside as soon as possible had just become our immediate priority. Logan turned to the door only to have the handle rattle uselessly in his hand. One of us had locked the door on the way out. Don't shoot the messenger, but I'm about to deliver some bad news. The 'quatch - at this point we were sure it was a 'quatch - called again, louder than before. 

We nudged the bathroom window open with the grace of a dying deer tick, but the screen still provided a translucent blockade. I was about to tell Logan we could use my knife to pop the screen off when he changed his name to Bruce Lee and poke-chopped the screen into pointlessness. We shoved slightly-sized Trevor through the child-sized hole and before long were safe inside. 

We didn't sleep well that night.

The next day we went hiking.