Yearly Archives: 2012

Friday Fluff, March 9, 2012

Posted on by February 25, 2020

Until about ten minutes ago, my day was slow, and it was looking like I might have to go deal with the disgusting mess that is my bathroom. I watched a bug die on my desk.

He’s a Mayfly or some other thing, not a giant mosquito. They only live about 24 hours, and he appeared to be nearing the end of his time. He pulled himself along the mess, shakily sticking out one feeler like an old man with a cane, then pulling himself forward. I didn’t have the heart to scoop him up and pitch him out in the rain while he was still alive.… Read the rest

Trust issues

Posted on by February 25, 2020

“Consider the avocado. Its disproportionate half-moon shell is even shaped like an ovary. The creamy flesh shelters a single seed. This is the very definition of ‘fruit’.”

Obdurate and nine, he replies, “Get off your high horse, Mom. Fruit is sweet.”

Mom protests, “Not all fruit. Not tomatoes…”

“Tomatoes aren’t fruit.”

“Yes they … look, we’ll Google it together.”

He says, “I don’t want to Google it.”

“Look at this page,” she says. “It explains vegetables can be fruits, but fruits can’t be vegetables.”

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Just eat your lunch, Jeremy.”

“I don’t like avocados.”

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I don’t think that this Mom is going to get her son to have faith that avocados are tasty.… Read the rest

What the Hell Is This Meme Called Again

Posted on by February 25, 2020

Amanda over at The Last Mom on Earth is one of the best writers I know. Or don’t know. I don’t know how the fuck cyber relationships work. And it’s more that I admire her. Not that I know her in the first place. ANYWAY. She routinely wins first prize over at the Trifecta writing challenge (and she should – dear JESUS the woman can write).

The point here is that she got tagged in a meme, and she, in turn, tagged everyone. I’ve been resisting this meme for awhile, though I don’t know why since I’m a huge quiz fan.… Read the rest

Ella’s Gun: Fiction

Posted on by February 25, 2020

In the first rehearsal with the real gun, Ella screamed and raced over to make sure Aaron Meddins, who played the Gestapo Kriminal Assistent, hadn’t really been hit. It didn’t matter that she fired blanks.

But she had to control that fear, because Demons at the Door’s success hinged on creating Sister Edmund as a plausibly faith conflicted nun. She disarmed Daniel and his pregnant wife Freda when they first begged for shelter, but at the climax herself shot the Nazi who stumbled onto the convent’s hidden Jews.

“I’m fine,” Aaron said, then offered, “I’ll wink when you cross left.… Read the rest

Stations of the Cross

Posted on by February 27, 2020

Stations of the Cross: A Prosaic Response to John Ashbery’s Poem “The Ecclesiast”

The man left oilslick footprints, bright, then dark, mottled sometimes, variegated and unexpected. He was homeless certainly, under his burden of layered clothing and multiple grocery bags, followed by the rank decay of life. And yet, every step forward made a new color on the pavement.  He gave the impression of someone from an earlier time, a medieval peddler or Christ under the cross, no Simon to bear his burden.

He walked with a staggering gait, as if the unevenly distributed grocery bags pulled him constantly off balance.… Read the rest

Hair of the dog

Posted on by February 25, 2020

The phone rang at 4AM. “Jesus, Richard!” groaned Patricia, “How many have you had?” Richard’s silence suggested quite a lot.

“Please,” he said.

Grinding her teeth, she growled, “This time only and then no more. This time only.”

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This weekend, Trifextra is asking us to finish the story launched by the words “The phone rang at 4am”. Not counting those four, we have 33 words to tell the whole tale.

… Read the rest

Friday Fluff, March 2, 2012

Posted on by February 25, 2020

If you’re new to the Jester Queen, every week, I participate in a meme in which grown women tackle absurd teenager issues, as phrased by the presumed teens themselves over on Quizopolis. Men can play, too, so Lance, get on board man. This week’s questions come from here. I link up with Lisa over at Seeking Elevation and if you head that way, you can pick up her answers, follow through to other fluffers’ links, and find out about her feral-haired daughter.

Normally, my quiz answers aim only to make you laugh yourself out of your chair. However, this week’s quiz is a little more serious, and I know I’ve acquired a couple of new readers since I migrated last week.… Read the rest

Language of Love

Posted on by July 12, 2023

Give me forty minutes, and I’ll whip you up a batch of cookies. Make it an hour, and I’ll throw in a beef vegetable soup. My mother taught me to cook starting at a very young age, and I learned more from my grandfather as I grew older. I have taken their recipes and made them my own. When I feel helpless, I bake for friends. If you are sick, if someone has died, I cannot make your problem go away. But I will listen to you. And I will cook for you. I speak my love in chocolate chips.

 

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Hey!… Read the rest

Studio Time

Posted on by February 25, 2020

Nick adjusted the mic. “Testing,” he said. The leader gave him a brief thumbs up. Two other session singers flanked him in the tiny recording cubicle, and they all patted their white headphones. Nick’s felt too tight around his skull, but he didn’t make adjustments.
The leader said, “OK, scratch vocals for ‘Life of Death’” then held up a hand to count down visually.

Nick sang “Death chanced upon me in the hall.”

The women on either side of him echoed “ha-a-ll”.

Just outside the cubicle, the leader kept unnecessary time with the same hand he had used for the countdown, and Nick sang, “But I refused to fall.”… Read the rest

Curve of the tree

Posted on by February 25, 2020

When people asked about Johnna’s dark skin and hair and her grey-violet eyes, her mother Manda said,  “She was my surprise baby.” Those traits, especially the eyes, belonged to the Auric tribe, whose standing with the ruling council was never stable. So the askers usually pretended to think Johnna was descended from her stepfather, even though she looked nothing like him or her younger siblings on that side.

Her father, when Johnna saw him once a year, was more honest. “Pfft. Accident,” he said. “The caravan leader had a fetching daughter, and I had a terminal problem keeping up my drawers.”… Read the rest