Dainty women in high heels,

Passing out meat pinwheels,

Serving the men as they all chatter.


Bending over oh so primly

So you don’t see above the knee.

Nobody wants to be called a slut.

Some men give a quick, hard smack,

Others rub the small of backs.

They think that they’re the ones that matter.


Ignorance will make men suffer

With the women always tougher.

The meat given is poison in their gut.

It’s been an extremely long time awhile since I’ve written anything on here. I thought I lost my mojo, and I probably did.  Too many outside influences fed into my mental block and eventually it felt like my writing annoyed people more than it made me feel good. I can’t won’t write as much as I did over the summer since school has started again (and I’m a teacher with students that depend on me), but I will try my best to write more often. I’ve missed this even more than I realized.

I’m back.


Story #35

“That was the worse date in history.” Ben playfully jabbed Kaila. She prerended to look shocked.

“Seriously?! I thought y’all would be perfect together. Sadie is so sweet. She was literally nicknamed Sweet Sadie by everyone in high school,” Kaila replied. She dreamily syared at Ben and held the cutest smile she could muster. “So where did it go wrong? Was she not naughty enough for you,” Kaila giggled.

“Oh no, I didn’t say anything about Sadie. She was very sweet. Super gorgeous, thanks for the set up. We get along well. The date was the awful.” Ben patted the couch cushion next to him so that Kaila could join him. She tried her best to look relieved.

“Well, tell me everything. We are best friends, ya know.,” said Kaila. She gave a supportive smile.

“So I took her to the little cafe next to Franklin Park. You know the one, right?” Kaila nodded. “Okay, so I’m sitting at this table next to the window. I wanted to see her first and see if she looked like her picture. Anyways, this pregnant woman stands right next to the table. She’s huffing and puffing. Basically, hinting she wants my table since all the others are full. I offer her a seat at the table and she shakes her head no. Sadie walks in a few minutes later and we greet each other with a hug.” Kaila shook her head, staying focused on every word.

“We have a seat and start chatting a bit, basic stuff like what’s your major? How do you like the city? Whatever. Well this dude comes over and starts yelling at me for not letting this pregnant woman have a seat. It’s embarrassing. I explain the situation.” Kaila continued to shake her head, anxiously waiting for the point when Ben and Sadie connected. Ben droned on and on about the nonsense she could care less about.

“…and that’s when our eyes connected. I was trying to be cool, and she immediately laughed, totally catching me off guard.” Ben started to laugh, too. Kaila grasped at the cue and laughed so much louder than she meant to.

I had this idea for a story yesterday. Basically Ben totally likes Kaila’s friend, Sadie. Kaila purposely set them up because she thought that they wouldn’t fit together. She has a major crush on Ben, but she’s crushed when she finds out that they’re going on a second date. The end. It’s late. I’m exhausted.

Story #34

The sound of gun shots and helicopters boomed from Howard’s room. He furiously tapped the buttons on his controller. His mom walked in and turned down the sound.

“Mom! I’m playing,” he yelled.

His mom put a hand on her hip and said, “Do you have any homework?”

“No, I did it in class.” He maneuvered his head around to focus on the game. His mom stood directly in front of the tv.

“Where’s your report card, Howard?”

Howard paused his game. “We don’t get them until Friday, mom. Now can I keep playing the game?”

His mom threw her hands up in the air. “Fine, but bedtime is in 30 minutes, young man.” She walked out his room and shut the door behind her.

Howard pressed START on the controller and turned up the sound to drown out the sound of him unzipping his backpack. He took out a crumpled envelope that said TO THE PARENTS OF HOWARD LEWIS. He took out the report card with the note attached. Before he could rip it up, his mom walked in without knocking.

“Hey, I was wondering if…wait, what is that?”

Howard quickly put the paper behind his back. “It’s just homework. I was looking over it again.”

His mom grabbed the paper and stared at the note and grades. She read the part about him possibly being held back out loud. She glanced back at Howard whose head was down. Without saying a word, she unplugged his XBOX One and threw it on the ground.

“Mom, no!” The console instantly broke into three large pieces. She unplugged the TV and put it in the garage. “You only have 9 weeks left before this school year is over and you’re going to eat, sleep, and BREATHE school! No more video games, computer, TV, or anything. No sleep overs, no playing outside, no NOTHING, so don’t ask!” Howard teared up and shook his head up and down.

Lol this story sucked. My excuse is that I’m hanging out with my little cousin.

Story #33

I stared at my bowl of salad while my friends engulfed large slices of pepperoni pizza. Grease covered their hands and dribbled from their lips. They looked like they were in heaven. I looked down at my leafy lunch choice and sighed. This was only day three of my diet.

“Oh, man, I’m stuffed. Does anyone want the last slice,” Bert asked. Everyone shook their head no. “Mari? You didn’t eat much. Take the last slice.”

Before I could refuse, he placed the slice in a to-go container. “Thanks, B.” I gave a half-hearted smile. In my head I was cursing myself for not being more restrained.

When I got home, I sprinkled more cheese on the slice of pizza and drenched it in ranch dressing. The slice was gone within seconds. Ranch dribbled down my stuffed mouth. I sighed and looked in the fridge. I knew I should at least drink water, but I went for the unfinished Dr. Pepper instead. Day three was ruined.

I walked to the bathroom, peeled off my tight clothes, and stared at my naked body. Rolls and folds of fat covered my sides. My arms were the size of a chunky teenager’s thighs. Cellulite sprinkled my arms and covered my legs. They were the battle scars from the food wars I lost over the years. My stomach. Oh, God, my stomach. It was a massive chunk of fat. There was enough fat in there to keep all of Alaska fed and warm. My blubber.

I stood on my scale and attempted to look at the number. My stomach blocked the view so much that I had to grab my phone and take pictures of number. 396.7 lbs. Tears rolled down my chubby cheeks and made their way to my chins. Once the crying stopped, I threw on some clothes to exercise in. One day, I’ll be 185 lbs – my goal weight. Until then, I couldn’t give up.

This was easy to write. I went out drinking with friends yesterday and one of them bought pizza. I hadn’t had pizza in awhile, but I broke down and  ate TWO slices. I felt gross. My wonderfully thin friend ate around 4 slices & had some wings. *sigh* Weight is an ongoing battle for me. I don’t   look like Mari from my story, but the possibility is there. Fortunately my sweet puppy keeps me active these days.♡

Story #32

The marriage was over before the love ran out.
We were in our early 20s and madly on love. In all honesty our love was just that: mad. We went on 3 dates before we decided that marriage was the right answer.

The first one was typical.
We were nervous and anxious all at once — two separate things. We did the typical dinner & a movie. The dinner was just okay and the movie was great, maybe because there were no expectations in the dark. An hour into the movienwe held hands. It was sweet.

The second date was a group one.
We were with mutual friends at a karaoke bar. He always said that he knew I was the one when I sang T. Swift’s “I Knew You Were Trouble” song. The irony in that is beyond measure.

The third date was a picnic.
The weather was somehow perfect. It was right after a few days of rain, but right before the biggest storm in history. The day basically represented whatever we had. We talked for hours outdoors.

Not too soon after that he asked me to marry him, and I accepted the offer. We were in love or something very close to it. We were young. We felt invincible. Our respective families disagreed, but we didn’t care. We thought it was the only choice that made sense.

The marriage was over before the love ran out.
We were destined to fail from the start. He was a bartender at the hippest club in town and I was a waitress at the local diner. Our schedules didn’t match. We ignored the coincidence. I quit my job to spend more time with him. He thought he could cover everything on his own.

The marriage was over before the love ran out.
We argued over money and made up over sex. We were convinced that our love would keep us above water. Love doesn’t pay the bills. He resented me for unemployment so I got a job at his club. We had to play single in front of customers for more tips. It was fun…for awhile.

The marriage was over before the love ran out.
We still argued. Neither one of us understood the other. Go figure. We tried many things to spice up our marriage even though we had only been married for 6 months. We just needed another element, right?

The marriage was.over before the love ran out.
The day I was served, I was 4 months pregnant and we hadn’t even been married a year. My husband was basically nonexistent in our marriage. I constantly tried to reason why this happened or how, but it was clear. We were never in love. We just wanted to be in love. There was none.

At the age of 22, I was divorced with a child. There was no love. There was barely a marriage. We were young and foolish, fallen madly for the thought of love.

Yup. Til tomorrow.

PSA Numero Dos

I absolutely forgot to write a story. It popped into my head every now and then, but at times when I couldn’t write. *sigh* I’ll write tomorrow.

Writing every day is my goal, but sometimes it may not happen. This is the 2nd time. I’ll allow myself 5 passes.

Story #31

The phone rang.

“11pm. 54th & Condor.” *click*

I cocked my gun and placed it in the holster disguised by my jacket. The man in the corner whined, trying his best to squeeze his hands out of the cuffs. I placed a finger over the gag & rope covering his mouth. “Shhhh…” Tears streamed down his cheeks, but he didn’t make a sound. “Good boy. If I see anyone snooping around because you made a noise, I’ll murder your whole family. I know where you live. Nod if you understand.” The man nodded.

Within 15 minutes I was at the drop. There was only one dim streetlight. Very few cars passed, but none of them stopped. It was a Tuesday so I didn’t expect much traffic, especially at this time of night. I turned off my car and squatted next to it. A car with its lights off slowly pulled up to the corner.

A man in a hoodie got out of the car and started walking forward. I could tell that it was Domingo, the bodyguard, by the way he walked. When he got closer I stood up and pointed my gun at his forehead. He quickly reached for the weapon at his hip, but I was faster. I shot him once in the stomach and a second time in the forehead. The giant, muscular man fell back with a loud thud.

I started running towards the car to shoot anyone else that was in there. I threw open the door and my son threw his hands uo and walked out the car.

“Dad, you’re making a mistake. They’ll kill me AND you if you take me away. I’ll just go to Hugo and tell him Domingo was shot by a druggie. You have to leave now!”

My son, the thug. It hurt to see him like this. His pupils were dilated, most likely from whatever his gang was selling. He waved me away. I refused to move.

“Get the fuck out of here, old man,” a voice behind me said.

I slowly turned to see some skinny thug pointing a gun at my head. “Listen to your bitch ass son. Drop your weapon before you get hurt.” I turned back to my son, who mouthed the word go. I shook my head and walked back to my car.

When I got back to my basement, the man I was holding hostage was gone. The cuffs were still locked, which meant he broke his hand or something of that nature to get free. I examined every aspect of my house, but found no one. I sat on the edge of my bed, hunched over, and cried. Everything would have been different if my wife was still alive. The only reason Frank, my son, joined that stupid gang is because he was lost without his mother. I crawled into bed and fell asleep in my pool of tears.

Around 4am a loud bang was heard at my door. Startled, I grabbed my gun and slowly made my way to the front door. When I opened it, my son’s limp body laid on my doorstep covered in blood. His face was so swollen he was hardly recognizable. A car facing the door turned on its lights and sped away. I dropped to my knees and held my son for the first time in months. I cried for what felt like hours before I decided what to do next. My son’s blood stained my dirty hands as I grabbed my guns and filled my car. I didn’t care what it would take. Evedy single one of those fuckers had a death wish and I was coming to grant it.

I’ve been watching a LOT of Breaking Bad.