Made Some Changes, I Wanna Discuss Them

Recently I worked out some much needed updates to the blog to make it a bit more operational. I added some handy-dandy links on the side, switched up the color scheme, and changed the name of the blog. Yay! I may do a bit more here and there. We shall see… In the mean time, is there anything you think should be done or changed? I’m open to suggestions!


Once again, vacation

Hey guys, just a quick heads up I will be out of town next week on vacation. I’m going to Washington DC!

As such there will be nothing published this coming Thursday. It makes me a bit sad thinking about it… But I have a stash of new stuff coming out soon, so no worries.

In the meantime welcome to all my new followers. You’re growing in numbers by the day it seems! Thanks for all the interest you guys have shown. I’ll continue working hard to improve my storytelling and bring you better and better drabbles!

See ya’ll next month. If you’re having good weather, enjoy it! If not, just draw the blinds.





Only Words

“I met a man.”

“Really? Tell me everything.”

“Well… It was Saturday night,”

“Oh my God! You were at a club, weren’t you?”


“Oh, I can see it now. The lights are dim, the strobes are high, and there he is. Shirt unbuttoned, sweat dripping, skin glistening. He slowly makes his way across the dance floor, bedroom eyes in full effect, hips─”

“We weren’t at a club.”

“So a coffee shop, right? I can see it now. You’re sitting by the window, the night life outside dewy with rain. Did it rain Saturday night? He walks in, white shirt soaked so every muscular detail shines through. He looks at you, you look at him. He approached your table, hips swaying─”

“Why are you going on about hips so much?”

“It’s been awhile…”

“No hips. None whatsoever.”

“Is there at least a puppy involved? He was walking his new puppy and it got off the leash and ran to you sort of thing?”

“Actually we met through work.”

“Oh, so some secret broom-closet action huh?”


“Not at all?”

“It was a business dinner. He’s from the next department over. We sat next to each other and really hit it off. Nothing more happened, but we’re meeting next week for lunch.”

“Can you do me a favor and pay attention to his hips this time, please?”

“I’ll make sure to request he wears a white shirt too.”  

You Can’t Pick Your Family (Based On A True Story)

“Listen Alley,” Wendy tried to sound stern as she straightened her sister’s shirt collar. “Mom had to work really hard to get us into our new school, so don’t screw this up. I’m not changing schools again because you can’t control your attitude.”

“That teacher was asking for it.” Alley pouted.

“And what about the school before that? Do all teachers deserve black eyes?” Alley raised her eyebrows, wondering if an answer was really asked for.

Wendy struggled with life ─ which is to say she struggled with the people in her life. Namely her younger sister, who had a knack for finding trouble where none existed. Thirty detentions, five suspensions, two expulsions, and one assault charge (later dropped) tickled just the tip of the iceberg. “When you get in trouble I get in trouble.” Wendy said. “This is a private school, which means they have even stricter rules than public ones. Just try to behave, ok?”

“What for?”

“For sanity’s sake.” Wendy snapped. “If you last a week without fighting anyone I’ll give you my ice cream money.”

“Deal.” Alley nodded soundly. Shaking hands they departed their room for the kitchen in search of their mother for their ride to school. Unfortunately due to their mom’s infatuation with the “bonafied” garbage man, who always seemed to visit every week for an extended period of time, the sisters arrived late.

Rushing into the building their mom hustled them to the principal’s office. Formalities where quickly swept aside and Wendy waved down the hall as Alley was led in a different direction to a different class. She hoped and prayed for an uneventful first day.

By lunch Wendy had a favorite everything picked out. Her favorite teacher, her favorite subject, her favorite kid she sat next to. She looked around the lunch room and allowed her usual a-little-too-manic-mature self a sigh of relief. Maybe she’d finally found a place she could settle and grow some roots.

A ruckus over her shoulder drew her attention. There it was. The principal she’d only met that morning and who she judged to be a relative stand-up guy clutched her sister’s shirt as she struggled to run away and pummel anyone within arm’s reach at the same time.

He yelled, she yelled back. Wendy sat too dejected to move as the students around her rushed to the scene. She was lucky enough to catch a glimpse of her sister swinging around and socking the principle right between the eyes, knocking his glasses clean off his nose, before heads blocked her view. Calmly, fighting tears of frustration, Wendy stood and threw her lunch away before heading to the office. Goodbye favorite everything.

By the time their mother was on speaker phone Alley had calmed down and the principal had on a spare pair of glasses. “Miss, I’m sorry, but we cannot have someone with your daughter’s behavior at our school. With her record it was a miracle we even let her in,” he trailed off, glaring across the desk at the young girl. Alley stuck her tongue out. The conversation went on a bit longer but the outcome was unavoidable.         

Their mom made them walk home as punishment. “I am never giving you money for ice cream. Ever.” Wendy cursed her luck for having a sister such as Alley.

“Could be worse,” she argued. “Mom could always marry that garbage man she’s in love with.”

Wendy had to agree. Thank god that would never happen. (The official dating between Mother and the garbage man began about a month later. Marriage followed shortly after.)


She was a much older woman, and maybe I liked that. As she walked towards me, seductively stripping off one article of clothing at a time, her eyes in full bed-room mode, I had to admit my heart quickened. But enough was enough.

“Suzee,” I back away rapidly from the advancing woman. “This has to stop. I don’t like you like that.”

“Oh baby,” pouncing forward she grabbed hold of my shirt collar. “Don’t say that. You know you want it just as bad as I do. And I could show you such a good time,” she licked her lips in an exaggerated manner, making me cringe.

“Doesn’t matter,” I tried to gently detangle myself from her grasp. “I’m not interested in older woman.” Honestly that wasn’t the full truth, but it didn’t take me long after meeting the cougar currently pawing at my chest to realize experience comes at a price, usually sanity.

Suzee refused to let go and instead pushed me up against a wall, kissing me long and hard. I struggled to break away and finally caught a breath of air around thick lipstick. Suzee busily unbuttoned my shirt until I tightly gripped her hands in my own. “Listen to me.” I said seriously, looking her in the eyes. “I’m sorry there was a misunderstanding, but I’m not interested in you. Please put your clothes back on and leave my house.”

“Aww baby,” she cooed. “What’s wrong? I don’t bite.” She leaned forward and snapped playfully at my collarbones. I pushed her away roughly, not longer so concerned with treating her like a lady.

“I can’t be with someone as old as you.” I blurted out.

“As old as me?” She scoffed. “I’m barely over… I’m not old.” She snapped in my direction. “You’re hardly one to talk!”

“I’m only – ”

“You’re legal; that’s all that mattered.” Suzee turned away and I sighed with relief until a finger stab my chest. “You know what your problem is? You’re not man enough for me. You’ll see, older women are better. You’ll learn once you grow up.” Turning on her heels she stormed off, picking up each article of clothing she’ d tossed aside on her way to the door. Slamming it shut behind her she cut off her perfume trail, leaving me slightly scratched by her foreplay nails but otherwise no worse for wear.

Sighing fully in relief I sank to the floor, grateful I’d managed to avoid the mauling. I decided from then on to never see a woman old enough to be my mom ever again. It was just too weird. It was like dating the Crypt Keeper or something.

Bazooka 9

The headache woke me up before anything else. Dirt clogged my nose as I fought through the blinding light overhead to gain some baring. Squirming, I discovered myself incapacitated with ropes, dragged along the ground like a sack of potatoes by none other than Annett in her knee high boots. She glanced over her shoulder, hearing my struggles. “Mike,” she began. “You are under arrest for the robberies of seven banks, assault, eluding police, resisting arrest, lewd conduct─”

“Lewd conduct?” I cried. “Lady, who─ what─” I looked around to see nothing recognizable. Were we in the desert? I looked behind our trek to see the city, my home, growing smaller by the step, surely being replaced with a wasteland of sand and heat. Finally the last few moments I remembered before blacking out hit me. “Are Santa and Bonnie all right? How could you break their window like that? They just got married you know! Where are we? I’m the wrong guy! Why are you dragging me on the ground? I can walk!” I spilled out rapidly. A bump in the road jarred me as Annett continued her task. “Didn’t you hear what I said? I know you’re a bounty hunter and I know you’re after this Mike guy who robs banks, but that’s not me. Look, Shorty can explain everything─”

“Shorty?” Annette stopped. “You saw Shorty?”

“She decked me in the face.” I replied lamely.

“Wow, you really are weak.” Readjusting the rope slung over her shoulder she soldiered on. “Shorty’s a low level wannabe. She’s never bagged a bounty the entire time she’s worked in the business. If even she could lay hands on you…” She faded away into a low chuckle, growing into a riotous mirth. Contrary to all appearances Annett’s cool exterior was a lie. She was bat-shit crazy. Not because of the reckless way she wielded her many deadly weapons, but because of her laugh. It wasn’t creepy, or bone chilling, or evil. To an outsider it might even sound a little funny. But from my bound position on the ground it just sounded like a wack-job’s laugh: long, loud, and overly dramatic. 

“Are we going to a police station? We aren’t even in the city anymore. And can you please stopping dragging me over desert rocks? My legs do work, last time I checked…”

A clap of thunder broke my stream of complaints, echoing off thin air over the flat wasteland. Great, I thought. It’s going to rain and I’ll get muddy. Annett stopped at the sound. Unconsciously her grip tightening on the robes. Then I could sense it. Something was coming. Following her intense gaze I saw a cloud of dust in the distance prophesying the coming of something big. Really big.

“What’s that?” I asked faintly.

“Him.” Annett said.

“Him who?”

“His name is Him.” She clarified. “I suppose it was only a matter of time.”

I wanted to yell. I wanted to shout at the woman who kidnapped me and make all sorts of accusations and demands. But the thundering was growing. “Should we be running?” I whispered.

“We wouldn’t make it very far. Besides,” letting go of my rope she reached between her shoulder blades and pulled out a sawed-off shotgun. “That’s not really my style.” About to argue my case, for running away had certainly proven itself to be my style, I stopped short as a figure came into view. “Shut up,” Annett said. “And try not to cry.”

I whimpered and curled into a huddled mass, hoping to adapt the look of an insignificant insect. The next moment a man, if you weren’t too strict with the term, stopped before us. His shadow could eclipse a group of children playing soccer on a hot day. A five foot, neon green mohawk ran up his head like a neon flag presiding over a crew of chains, piercings, and tattoos. He smiled and revealed rows of purposefully sharpened-to-a-point gold teeth. Any other day and I might have laughed, but not now. Now, not even the woman who hunted me down and hogtied me ran such a chill up my spin. “Hello little lady,” Him spoke in a deep southern accent. “Long time no see. That’s him, right?” His sight turned to me. “I’m gonna need what you got.” Annette fumed silently, which I had a growing suspicion she did often. Then it hit me. This guy was a bounty hunter. Of course.

Displaying strength you can’t buy Annett hurled me away, sending me flopping to a stop a few yards away near a cactus. Heedlessly she raised her gun, aiming at the giant’s head. She emptied the barrels. Him laughed, unscathed. I blinked to make sure the desert heat hadn’t gotten to me. Sure enough, Him stood tall without a drop of blood to show for all of Annett’s hardware. Tisking, Annett threw her gun away in favor of something bigger. I blinked and she held her rocket launcher. “Oh shit,” I managed to get out before a battle of warriors began before me. The sight was quite impressive, but amidst the chaos and distraction I managed to get away.  

“How?” Officer Buck asked, leaning forward eagerly to hear.

“I got to my feet with the aid of a cactus and hopped away while they fought. I couldn’t even hope of untying the ropes by myself, so I wandered in my bound state looking for a recognizable land mark to point me back towards the city. You wouldn’t think Annett could have drug me that far way while I was unconscious, right?”

“Right.” Buck nodded.


Bazooka 8

I sat on quite possibly the ugliest couch I’d ever had the unfortunate experience of sitting on, next to a beaming bearded man I wasn’t sure I felt comfortable with.

“Hello!” A voice sung. The waitress from the diner twirled out of the kitchen of the quaint house at the end of a block the bearded man brought me to, holding a tray of cookies. Setting the plate before us I leaned in and took a whiff. Yup, freshly baked all right.

“I’m sorry,” I began.

“Don’t be!” The old man slapped me on the back. “It’s not your fault you have such lousy taste in women. You can never tell the difference between the normal ones and the ones carrying an AK-47 in their back pocket, if you know what I mean.” He elbowed me roughly.

“Actually,” I said. “I was going to say I’m sorry I don’t know your names.”

The two looked at each other in surprise. “That’s true,” the waitress said. “We don’t know your name either.”

“Santa is the brand,” the old man reached over and gripped my hand, giving it a good manly squeeze.

“I’m Jezebel, but you can call me Bonnie.” The waitress smiled.

“Mike.” I stated lamely. Taking a bite of a cookie I found it to be delicious. I suddenly became painfully aware I’d missed breakfast and grabbed another. “I didn’t expect to see you two still together.” I said between bites.

“Why wouldn’t we be together?” The waitress asked, sitting in a chair across from us.

“Why are you still together?” I looked between the two with that odd feeling growing in my stomach.

They looked at one another with smiles. They went back and forth in hushed tones. No, you tell him sort of lines. Finally a voice, I can’t remember who it came from, spit it out. “We got married!”

“… What?” The waitress held up her left and, sure enough, a small silver ring glinted on her finger. “It’s been a day,” I managed to get out. “It’s literally been a day.”

“Young love,” Santa smiled. “You know how it goes bub,”

“You’re, like, a hundred years old…”

“We thought it was about time.” The waitress nodded.

“It’s been a day!” I exclaimed.

“A lot has happened,” Santa reasoned.

“You got married!”

“We did,” they cooed in unison, sending each other googly-eyes. I gagged. Santa courteously patted me on the back. “We wanted to thank you for introducing us.” Bonnie continued.

“But enough about us,” he said. “What have you done with yourself all this time?” I raise an eyebrow and ate another cookie, not sure what to say. “Come on,” Santa prodded me.

Sighing, I told the whole story from beginning to end. The chase after the diner blowup, wandering around the city, Shorty catching me, the other Mike wanted for bank robbery, the bounty, and Annette. Silence hung in the air.

“Wow,” Bonnie rested her head in her hands. “That’s so… unfortunate.”

“That reminds me of a story,” Santa chimed in.

“Not now dear, can’t you see Mike needs help?” Santa drew back sullen. Bonnie thought hard. “Why don’t you just catching this man yourself? You don’t have a job;  you could become a bounty hunter!” She sat back, awful proud of herself. I thought and thought and thought about it, staring at the floor in concentration. Santa and Bonnie slowly leaned forward in anticipation. I blinked and looked up.

The front window to Santa and Bonnie’s house exploded in a shower of glass. Through the hail a figure leapt through the opening. A flash of floral yellow gave way to caramel skin. The woman, Annett, hung midair, suspended in time as I gazed up at her. She drew her arm back and slugged me with brass knuckles, knocking me out cold.