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Then Who Can You Laugh At?

I’ve been banging my head against a wall lately. But only in my own thoughts, so the wall against which I’ve been banging my head is actually inside my head. That’s imaginary physics for ya. Anyway, I’ve been agonizing over  my voice, over what influences are going to be screamingly obvious in everything I ever…

He thrills when he drills a bicuspid.

Pulling My Own Teeth

Writing a true story should be easy. The outline is pre-assembled in my head, in the heads of everyone involved, and thus in the fabric of the human experience, because humans were there. It really happened. An argument could be made that the story needn’t be written down at all. Since it really did happen…

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Instead of Writing

It’s Hearts & Chocolate Day. Both of my kids have parties at their schools to celebrate and teach children the art of giving little cards with cartoon characters on them to everyone regardless of how much you may or may not actually like them. Or something. Rather than fork over money to the giant corporate…

This is not my art. I don't know whose art this is. If this is your art, please tell me. I think I might love you a little.

Unfulfilled?

In order to write, one must read. Input begets output. Read well, write well. Gotta eat healthy to be healthy. Searching for something new to read, I thought I’d give an old favorite another try. I’d walked away from her years ago, returning only occasionally to skim back through her new work just to see…

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Dating Advice For The Sickly

MOM, look away. This post talks about your baby girl’s sex life and somewhat alternative lifestyle. Look at this instead. Love you! – SC . . . … Is she gone? Okay. So this is a piece that I’ve written and will (hopefully) be reading aloud at a Bedpost Confessions-related event tomorrow evening. Feedback is…