I received the following email from a hot-pot of sassafras who occasionally teaches me to shake my money-maker:
Subject: whipcrack
whitttchaaaahhh........write more blog dammit.
Your ever-lovin Kristie
I never realized that you could spell out the sound of the crack of a whip, but here it is in black and whiteish. If only that crack was solidly planted on my posterior I might do a better job of jumping to it. Sometimes a girl just needs a solid whup'un to get the ball rolling.
Truth be told, my head space is still precarious. I keep having ideas that I want to write, but the ideas haven't been turning to verbal inertia... yet. I'm ever encouraged since I've not been waking daily wishing for death to take me swiftly. That's a good sign if I ever heard of one. I'll not make promises of when I can get back to regularly regaling you with true tales of glory days peppered with hyperbole and lies (and occasionally ham-fisted alliteration and contradiction). I'll just do what I can as my mind cools the hell out.
SWAK, Babys!
Want a piece of me? Let's go! cats_jammys at yahoo dot com
- Fresh Hell
- Wouldn't you like to know? . . . In case you would: I'm a girl. I'm in my late 30s. I was born under the glyph of death on the Mayan calendar. Yes, I'm Hispanic among a multitude of other cultures. I'm politically bored and incorrect. I don't pray or prey. I'm a scientist, but probably should have been a housewife. I'm not in a relationship. Sorry ladies, I like the fellers. I knit, but it's not likely you'll ever see my work on the internet. I wish I was a better writer. And while I'm wishing . . . I wish I was thinner, and made more money, and that things would get easier. I like it when I'm not all victimy.
Laughing at Tragedy!
2 comments:
Take your time. I for one, have nothing better to do than to keep coming back checking.
You probably just need a good shite, that always sees me right.
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