And what's this "we" crap anyway? You have a mouse in your pocket?
Tell you what, another idea:
How about a head-shed with bloggers you think you can get along with to cobble together a collaborative blog?
Sleep on it. Let me know what you think.
Who said I can't come up with good ideas after sending a six-pack hurtling down the hatch? Give me the Oval Office, a magic 8-ball and a crate of Schlitz, and I'll solve the nation's problems overnight!
kissyface did I or did I not direct you to a post I did that was inspired and fashioned after YOU back when I was still "anonymous steve" and "everyman"? someone has taken that site down but lucky for me I kept printed copies of the several posts I did on what I called the "abandoned blog". I flatter myself to even mention it....it was truly for you in large part that I wrote it.... it remains, truly, for you!
Actually I emailed it to a friend, so this was easy to do. Its all yours. If nothing else I hope it inspires you the way some of yours do me.
CUPID BLIND DID RISE(TITLE)
APELLES' SONG. CUPID and my Campaspe played At cards for kisses,—Cupid paid ; He stakes his quiver, bow and arrows, His mother's doves, and team of sparrows : Loses them too ; then down he throws The coral of his lip, the rose Growing on's cheek (but none knows how) ; With these the crystal of his brow, And then the dimple of his chin : All these did my Campaspe win. At last he set her both his eyes ; She won, and Cupid blind did rise. O Love, has she done this to thee ? What shall, alas ! become of me ? John Lyle This post is inspired by kissyface. http://beautifulcandy.blogspot.com/ She has led a very rich life, I believe, and is able to write about it in a fashion I enjoy very much.
Chavonne bumped into me at the Mall. Literally. I had not seen her since High School but I recognized her rght away. She was holding the hand of a girlfriend of hers that I recognized as well and squinting at me through very thick glasses. "Watch where you are going, Chavonne" says I. " How do you know my name?" says she. "Its that darn Steve Renfro" says her friend. Chavonne lit up like a Roman candle, like fire and Gasoline. She was pretty easy to look at; a pixie face with a Water Sprite feel...she seemed to float when she moved. I had that feeling behind my eyeballs we were going to be good friends. Her friend Debbie seemed to disapprove, but we were already gone. I got her number and called her that night and went to her house. I found out that Chavonne, for all practical purposes, was blind. She could not drive, nor could she go in public by herself. It was due to Diabetes. For the next two months we were friends and lovers and we had the best time. We would go to keg parties at the Lake at night. I would lead her through the bushes to the site, the whole time exhorting her to hurry up, watch out, this way. She was delighted. We would dance like Pagans around the bonfire. She loved Aerosmith and a Band called Moxy. I turned her on to Trapeze. She also liked to play pool and wasn't too bad. The balls were close and brightly colored and didn't move. But what she really liked to do was Play Ping-Pong. Thats right, Ping-Pong! I had a friend with a table and she never got to be any good but we would get high and she would play by sound and I would help her make a game of it. Sometimes I'd let her win and we would just laugh and laugh and laugh. We laughed all the time. In early September on 1977 I went Dove hunting with a friend. I didn't take Chavonne but I told her next time she could go and we would shoot the guns if she wanted. Ready. Aim. Fire. Like Elmer Fudd and Mr. Magoo all rolled into one. Man, we just couldn't stop laughin'! I was gone for three days and when I got back I called for her. There was no answer. I called again. I went by her place. No one home. Two days passed before I got the call...... Her mother said her appendix had burst. Her mother said she was in a coma. Her mother said that Chavonne had loved me so much because she had never had a friend like me. Chavonne loved me so much because I did not know how sick she was. I never once asked what her blood sugar level was. I never asked if she had her shot or even how she was feelin'. I never had that look of concern, of pity, on my face. She never came out of the coma. Chavonne died this week 29 years ago. Sometimes the Magician has his own reasons for botching the Magic trick. I just came to realize this week that it was only a matter of time before I started to treat her, to look at her, as her other friends did. Thank you, kissyface, for compelling me to write this down. Tonight, I dance!
I think I've said too much already. A girl can't lay down all her cards at once. Good thing my deck goes higher than 52. I wish I were a guy so I could pee anywhere I wanted while standing up. That's real power. I'd like to meet the following: My great-great grandparents, the N. Oklahoma ones, not the Swiss gentry. My woebegone friendship with Adam G. The man who's going to be with me till we're retired to the porch swing sucking on glycerine tablets, and who still reads to me at night, while I rub his feet. My ambitions with commitment and discipline. The characters from old David Lee Roth videos. Hot carb on carb action. That fucker who keeps trying to take the bbq, in a dark alley, satan's minions, lilliputians, nigglers, pifflers, piddlers, snake-oil peddlers, cripples, do-gooders, truth-seekers, sweethearts, wandering minstrels, interlopers, robber barons, saints, sinners, people who snort and guffaw, holler and whoop, tender tender people with good hearts, and all my fat little babies. I like BUTTER! And Vitamin Z!
8 comments:
And what's this "we" crap anyway? You have a mouse in your pocket?
Tell you what, another idea:
How about a head-shed with bloggers you think you can get along with to cobble together a collaborative blog?
Sleep on it. Let me know what you think.
Who said I can't come up with good ideas after sending a six-pack hurtling down the hatch? Give me the Oval Office, a magic 8-ball and a crate of Schlitz, and I'll solve the nation's problems overnight!
thanks H. I have put your guest blog in a post (and deleted it here), and will put it up right after Halloween. Thank you so much.
the "we" is the royal plural, obviously, but i wish i had a mouse in my pocket.
Ahh, the Royal "We". Napoleon complex, anyone?
H - I'm female and 5' 10".
kissyface did I or did I not direct you to a post I did that was inspired and fashioned after YOU back when I was still "anonymous steve" and "everyman"? someone has taken that site down but lucky for me I kept printed copies of the several posts I did on what I called the "abandoned blog".
I flatter myself to even mention it....it was truly for you in large part that I wrote it.... it remains, truly, for you!
steve - what was the subject? i remember reading something that was a nod, but my memory is failing me...
Actually I emailed it to a friend, so this was easy to do. Its all yours. If nothing else I hope it inspires you the way some of yours do me.
CUPID BLIND DID RISE(TITLE)
APELLES' SONG.
CUPID and my Campaspe played
At cards for kisses,—Cupid paid ;
He stakes his quiver, bow and arrows,
His mother's doves, and team of sparrows :
Loses them too ; then down he throws
The coral of his lip, the rose
Growing on's cheek (but none knows how) ;
With these the crystal of his brow,
And then the dimple of his chin :
All these did my Campaspe win.
At last he set her both his eyes ;
She won, and Cupid blind did rise.
O Love, has she done this to thee ?
What shall, alas ! become of me ?
John Lyle
This post is inspired by kissyface.
http://beautifulcandy.blogspot.com/
She has led a very rich life, I believe, and is able to write about it in a fashion I enjoy very much.
Chavonne bumped into me at the Mall. Literally. I had not seen her since High School but I recognized her rght away. She was holding the hand of a girlfriend of hers that I recognized as well and squinting at me through very thick glasses.
"Watch where you are going, Chavonne" says I.
" How do you know my name?" says she.
"Its that darn Steve Renfro" says her friend.
Chavonne lit up like a Roman candle, like fire and Gasoline.
She was pretty easy to look at; a pixie face with a Water Sprite feel...she seemed to float when she moved.
I had that feeling behind my eyeballs we were going to be good friends.
Her friend Debbie seemed to disapprove, but we were already gone. I got her number and called her that night and went to her house.
I found out that Chavonne, for all practical purposes, was blind. She could not drive, nor could she go in public by herself. It was due to Diabetes.
For the next two months we were friends and lovers and we had the best time. We would go to keg parties at the Lake at night. I would lead her through the bushes to the site, the whole time exhorting her to hurry up, watch out, this way. She was delighted. We would dance like Pagans around the bonfire. She loved Aerosmith and a Band called Moxy. I turned her on to Trapeze. She also liked to play pool and wasn't too bad. The balls were close and brightly colored and didn't move.
But what she really liked to do was Play Ping-Pong.
Thats right, Ping-Pong!
I had a friend with a table and she never got to be any good but we would get high and she would play by sound and I would help her make a game of it. Sometimes I'd let her win and we would just laugh and laugh and laugh.
We laughed all the time.
In early September on 1977 I went Dove hunting with a friend. I didn't take Chavonne but I told her next time she could go and we would shoot the guns if she wanted.
Ready. Aim. Fire. Like Elmer Fudd and Mr. Magoo all rolled into one.
Man, we just couldn't stop laughin'!
I was gone for three days and when I got back I called for her. There was no answer. I called again. I went by her place. No one home.
Two days passed before I got the call......
Her mother said her appendix had burst. Her mother said she was in a coma. Her mother said that Chavonne had loved me so much because she had never had a friend like me.
Chavonne loved me so much because I did not know how sick she was.
I never once asked what her blood sugar level was.
I never asked if she had her shot or even how she was feelin'.
I never had that look of concern, of pity, on my face.
She never came out of the coma.
Chavonne died this week 29 years ago.
Sometimes the Magician has his own reasons for botching the Magic trick.
I just came to realize this week that it was only a matter of time before I started to treat her, to look at her, as her other friends did.
Thank you, kissyface, for compelling me to write this down.
Tonight, I dance!
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