Stella overheard neighbors fighting while sitting in her backyard. Here is an excerpt she shared with me:
When have I ever played games witch you?! Nigga, you see what I'm livin' in to be witch you cause I love you?
A little later, I get the following chat message:
I regaled my dad with the story of the neighbor fight. He said, "I keep telling you there should be a law against some of the pure CRAP they call TV." I said, "This isn't on TV!!! This is coming from my neighbor's house.!!!" He said, "HOLY SHIT!!!!! Love thy neighbor, I guess..."
I guess I can see how he would think it was a TV show. I made him watch "Toddlers and Tiaras" all afternoon yesterday.
Monday, June 24, 2013
Saturday, June 8, 2013
Wednesday, June 5, 2013
Sunday, June 2, 2013
Saturday, June 1, 2013
A Tale Inspired by Birdman's FB profile picture:
The Hubby: Birdman rode high on that ostrich. High and proud. Some folk said too proud, but that didn't make no nevermind to Birdman. He and that ostrich would just strut through town like like they ain't never had a care. Like all they needed was each other. Maybe that was true. But it sure makes for a sad story, the way it all turned out. 'Course, maybe that was the only way it coulda gone, I don't know. All I know is sometimes, out on the plains, when the moon is shining bright in the sky, and the wind has gone real quiet... Sometimes I swear I can hear old Birdman and that ostrich, their call echoing off the distant hills: Brrrrrakakaka! Brrrrrrakakaka!
Birdman: You magnificent bastard. You brought feeling back to this old withered heart, emotions I thought would never be felt again. Perhaps it would have been better had I never experienced that twinge pass through my chest once more. I know I could have lived another 40 years and been just fine--not truly happy, but content in my own small way, maybe--but the haunting cry of that majestic bird lit up my mind like fireworks on a hot July night.
The ostrich. Struthio camelus. It may have been flightless, but when I rode on top of that fantastical fowl, my heart soared like any eagle. Brrrrrakakaka, indeed.
The Hubby: Take comfort, my friend, and forgive me for opening old wounds. I hope you know that the love that you and that beautiful bird shared lived not just in your own hearts. It spilled out over all who bore witness. It was my own emotion that moved me to write those words, heedless of the harm they might cause you. I miss not the bird, but the man that you became when you were with her. This ruined husk that you've become only serves to remind me of majestic Birdman you once were, and I ache for those days.
Stella: Tis a story so beautiful that has never been told before or ever shall be...brakaakaa without end.