Re: the RPD Writeup on ‘Fleek”

Upon reading the tag for the Ragtag word of the day, and after looking at the Urban Dictionary invective referenced therein, I just—JUST—could not resist the following diatribe on one of my fav hobbies-hosses (trying to grave our vocabulary in concrete tombs) which also includes one of my pettest peeves—undervaluing the full, social, historic, and … Continue reading Re: the RPD Writeup on ‘Fleek” →

What is this Fleekin Younger Generation Coming to?!

This morning a LinkedIn connection turned me on to a fleek young poet and her really fleek poem. This woman's style is so fleek, fleekers will fleek out hearing her read "west of philly." I present Yolanda Wisher, Poet. https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/west-philly a god-gorgeous poem. fleek

Rescuing Ellen Sheridan’s Cat

When JoDee Dees rode up to the gate, the bottle the hunter left was still sitting on the post. His eyes went to it the way eyes do to something they didn’t know they were expecting. He blinked, shifted in his saddle. JoDee focused on Ephraim Sheridan’s three cows, one steer, and two calves strung … Continue reading Rescuing Ellen Sheridan’s Cat →

Birthday, Christmas and Father’s Day Gifts: Some Advice

Lavender, scarlet, emerald or sky mottled blue! Or (if you must purchase white) mother of pearl. I’m tired of pea office green and deadly plain suits I don’t wear and am belittled for not by insinuating, superior, Misses, Mrs.s, ms.s, madams, misters, and sirs who snoot and practically sniff (unless they’re assessing sallow or black). … Continue reading Birthday, Christmas and Father’s Day Gifts: Some Advice →

Here’s the Thing, Lorie, My Name’s not Pauncho

I am not gonna plump shame Sherrie, so let us just say she was a well rounded girl with a penchant for raspberry and apple pies, strawberry ice cream, beef steak, beer, deep fried anything, and etc. etc. There is nothing wrong with having penchants. I have a few myself, but I usually go for … Continue reading Here’s the Thing, Lorie, My Name’s not Pauncho →

Vinny Wins a Zymurgy.

Vin Smitt had been toking on the dictionary again. This is not a pleasant thing for those of us who are victim to the sequela of his toke. When Vinny dipped into his Webster’s International you could pretty much depend on a whole new species of malapropist propaganda. And winter is not a good time. … Continue reading Vinny Wins a Zymurgy. →

How Delmare Wrote his Next

“Saloon was a fancy name for the place. Saloon had associations by etymology that suggested class. This was not a class place. The squeak-hinged door had squeaked the same tune for forty years—opening-to-closing, six days a week. (Closed Sundays, except for select parties and football games.) A twenty-four inch, dust-dimmed TV hung from the ceiling … Continue reading How Delmare Wrote his Next →

What’s it All Worth, Anyway?

Billy Oswalling got out of his battered pickup, and came across the gravel driveway. It is a gorgeous day, and about to get gorgeouser, Eric Tiodine thought. He wasn’t getting any younger and sitting on his veranda in the morning easing the aches of life was one of his last pleasures. He swung his left … Continue reading What’s it All Worth, Anyway? →

Hair Skirt

They ogled young Godiva of Beruit who was known to be beautifully hirsute, but, alas, not lewd for she covered when nude by weaving hirsute for her suit.