Spitball Army

Me: “…when I lived in Boston.”

He: “Oh, in New York City!”

Me: “Well no, Boston’s in Massachusetts.”

He: “That’s outside Atlanta, isn’t it?”

Next time: a safety monocle.

One of several watercolor picture/postcards that were apparently scissor-cut from a postcard book featuring scenes in and around Birmingham, Alabama.

This card pictures “View of Birmingham from Red Mountain with Ramsey High School in Foreground, Birmingham, Ala.”

7:30 AM appointment for truck service and tire rotation. I roll out of there at 8:17. My secret: one dozen Dunkin’ donuts.

At work, I was asked to stop using words people can’t understand in my monthly meeting minutes. Words like “adjourned” and “respectively.”

They should know better than to make requests like that of me. I will start writing the minutes using only words of five letters or less.

Or I may compose an entire meeting’s minutes as a series of haikus.

At the fast-food drive-thru window, I am greeted with, “$5.27. How are you?” That is bass-ackwards, and I am not a number.

one more piece of pie / crapped out on the floor in a tryptophan coma / waking plans for a leftover turkey sandwich  #CNFtweet  #TGtimeline

One of several watercolor picture/postcards that were apparently scissor-cut from a postcard book featuring scenes in and around Birmingham, Alabama.

This card pictures “The Lagoon in Avondale Park, Birmingham, Ala.”

Nothing says “Breast Cancer Sucks” like a foot-wide chocolate chip cookie with “Faith & Hope” written on it in neon pink icing.

If you find me in a gloom or catch me in a dream
Here inside my lonely room there is no in-between
If you find me in a gloom or catch me in a dream
Inside my lonely room there is no in-between
Whispering pines, rising of the tide
If only one star shines that’s just enough to get inside
I will wait until it all goes ’round
With you in sight the lost are found
Foghorn through the night, calling out to sea
Protect my only light for she once belonged to me
Let the waves rush in, let the seagulls cry
For if I live again these hopes will never die
I can feel you standing there
But I don’t see you anywhere
Standing by the well
Wishing for the rains
Reaching to the clouds
For nothing else remains
Drifting in a daze when evening will be done
Try looking through a haze
At an empty house in the cold, cold sun
I will wait until it all goes ’round
With you in sight the lost are found