When Sushi Bites Back

OUT NOSHING WITH THE GIRLS

After Work Last Night … 

A Planned Office Thing.  Previous Plans For A Larger Soirée Tanked.  Good Intentions Thwarted.

“Thwarting, Huh?”

… Because Whatever! Apparently Happens When The Sandbox Becomes A Litter Box Overfilled With Apathy, Grumpy Curmudgeons And Elevated Pessimism For The Holiday Season.

 

THWARTING VS. THWACKING

It’s Slippery Slope Down The Festivus Tree … 

When Thwarting Twerks To Thwacking.

When Passive Gets Aggressive.  It’s An Ugly Leap.  Faith Has Nothing To Do With It.

“So, Let’s Keep Our Hands In Our Pockets And The Chop Sticks Where I Can See Them.”

 

FUN FACT CONFESSION

Never Sit In The Center Seat At A Table … When Food Is Served Family-Style On Platters.

I Have Bite Marks On My Right Elbow.  There’s Also A Chunk Of Useable Flesh Gone Missing On The Medial Head of My Triceps Brachii.

“Forensics Will Be Running Dental Records Once HR Hears About This.”  

… I’d Like It Back Before I Go Gymmying Tonight.

 

WHAT ELSE?

Oh, Did I Mention That Hungry Girls … Can Eat … A Lot.

“He Ditten?”

Yep, Because Someone At The Table Asked If I Was Going To Write About Last Night In My Blog.  Happy Now?

… I’ll Be Paying For This Post Later Today And Into 2023.

 

Image by Adamsov Production from Pixabay

What’re You Wearing?

WHEN YOU’RE WRITING

Do You Go Casual … Kazee, Kazoo?

Dress It Up

Play It Down

Full Commando?

 

I’M ALL HOKEY POKEY

Slopped Out …

Weekend Grunge.

Trashed.  Retro Metro.  Funky Geppetto.

… Adorable Points For Torn, Stained, Outdated, Oversized Garb.

 

BED-HEADED & DISHEVELLED

If I’m Going To Write Anything Worth Keeping … 

This Morning: I’m Posting Up Barefooted in Puma Slides

Tartan Drawstring Pants … I’m Certain The Association Of Nocturnal Wearables Would Sanction As Lovely Pajama Bottoms Once Upon A Time …

“… If Not For The Egregious Seam Split – Where Seams Always Seem To Split – At The Cross-Section Of “Hey, Now” And “Who Knew?”

 

T-SHIRT FLUNKY

My Go-To Whenever I Need To Get-To … My Comfy Zone

A Beloved, Ratty-Tat-Tatty Vintage Blue V-Neck Tee.

Resplendent With Bleach Blotted Clouds At The Hem.

Because Clorox Acid Wash Suffered An Unfair, Untimely Indignity When The 80s Crashed Out … I Must Keep The Memory Alive.

 

MY FAVORITE WRITING SWEATER

Is A Rather Cool Ass Number … 1994 ca.

Nearly Every House Guest Likes To Put On Without Asking Me. 

Wear It Around Mi Casa Like They Own It.

As If I’d Laid It Out Next To The Fresh Towels And Bedtime Chocolate Mints.

 

WOVEN YARN FROM THE WAY BACK

When The Way Back Held Endearing Memories … 

Love Was New.

Promise Fresh.

… Future Uncertain.

 

A REMNANT NOW

Leftovers … Bygone Be Gone … 

Linus & His Blanket?  Nah, Just Comfy.  Secure I Am, Here In The Now.

It Keeps Me Warm.  Until I Get Hot In It.  And, I’m Always Hot In It.

… I Wear It In The Summer When My AC Goes Artic Blitz Mode.

 

MOST OF WHAT I’VE BLOGGED

And You’ve Read, Liked Or Done Otherwise With …

Was Scripted Under The Woven Yarn Of My Old Sweater.

If I Had A Muse, She’d Be It.

… Knotty Naughty And Pilly Willy, A Perfect Fit.

 

BURIED OR CREMATED

Lost At Sea … 

I’m Not Fussy.

And, Neither Is She.

… We’re In This Hole Together Whatever The End.

 

Image by Bruce Lam from Pixabay

Weekend Wrapper Upper

MY WEEKENDS HAVE BEEN BOUNCY LATELY

Ups & Downs … All Around.

Neither One Sustainable

Good Thing.

… I Prefer A Slim Bandwidth Of Emotion.

 

HOW’D IT GO?

In & Out … All Around.

Didn’t Find What I Was Looking For

Because I Wasn’t Looking For Anything.

Save It For Later.  Another Time.  Just Not Right Now.

 

SATURDAY AFTERNOON

Late, Late Lunch … 

Best Ramen In The City.  Could Be.

Best Company.  Absolutely.

… Mini Me Uno. 

 

ABOUT SUNDAY MORNING

After Saturday’s Planned Sabbatical From Blogging … 

Deleting Crappy Stuff After Posting – Culling The Herd – I Recalibrated Where I Was In This Bloggy Thing.

“Diggity, No Diggity.  Giggity, No Giggity.  Shaggity, No Shaggity.”

Consumed.  WTF’D.  Exhausted.

 

VIGOR DROPPED IN

Refresh, Stay Fresh … Perspective Popped Up.  

Lightened Me Up.  Buttered My Cup.  To The Top.

“Got My Lollipop Smiley Smirk Back On … Slapped The Resting Pr!ck From My Face.”

Said What I Meant (In Prayer).  For Another.  Listened.

 

GYMMIED UP

Nearly Fell Off An Elliptical Trainer … Epic Fail Tease.

Texting.  Like A Dumbass.  Appreciably, YouTube’s Video Streamer Screamer Mille’s Were Too Busy Selfie’ing Up Their Fabulous Lives To Chronicle This Unmitigated Disaster.

Great Gym Hair Day.  Rockin’ My Tangerine Dri-Fit.  Down An El Bee Deuce (Kee-Lo).

“And, A Badass Mother Practicing Krav Maga … Throwing Death Eye On Me … When All I Wanted To Do Was Dance, Sugar.”

 

THANKS

For Hanging With Me On The Weekend … 

Sunday Best Day Ever For Views – Saying Justly – But That Wasn’t What I Was Trolling For.

Found An Answer To A Question I Didn’t Ask.  Not, The One I Wanted.  Maybe, The One I Needed.

Hard.  Straight In There.  How I Like It.

 

Image by S. Hermann & F. Richter from Pixabay

We’re Friends

IF YOU’RE READING THIS

Virtual.  Digital.  Real.  As Real Gets.

Writers, Bloggers, Yodi.  Dubya Pea Acquaintances.

Buddies.  Besties.  Buddhas.

… Cool Bloggy Fellows Of The Esteemed Mutual Admiration Society.

 

AND, YOU ADORABLE CREEPERS

Okay By Me … Voyeur You?

“Creep On, Creepin’ On My Back Door.  Open Book.  Read On.  Find Whatcha Looking For?”

Hey, Even Haters Are Welcome …

Nope.

 

BLOG-SCAPING

I’m Lightening Up The Load.  Thinning The Herd.  Culling The Non-Essential.

“If We Don’t Dig Each Other’s Words, Then We Probably Won’t Click (Punny Bastard).”

So, I’m Unfollowing Dozens of Blogs.  Read Me, Read You.  Either Way, Let’s Make Way.

“If It Hasn’t Happened Yet, We’re Not Right For One Another, Darlings.”

 

DO I READ EVERYTHING?

And Everyone (I Follow) … All The Time?

Sure …  I Wish.  100% Of The Time, 60% Of The Time.  I Try.

“Hell, Its Obvious I Don’t Read My Own Crap!”

… Before Posting.

 

I DO READ

The One’s I Comment On, And A Bunch Of Other One’s I Adore.  Lots And Lots And Lots.

Many Inspire.  Wow Me.  Stitches of Laughter.

“And, Damn, I Promised Myself I Wouldn’t Cry …”

But You Did, You Did, You Did.  Crying Is Cool.

 

AWESOME SAUCED WRITERS

How’d You Get So Bloody Good?

“Dubya Pea Is Filled With Wickedly Talented Minds.”

Smarty Pants SOB’s.  Creative Juicers.  Jiminy Cricketeers.

… Respect, Deeply Madly On Y’all.

 

I FEEL WELCOMED

Perhaps, Not Always Understood … 

Hey, But That Curdled Sh!t’s All On Me, Right?

“If I Haven’t Written It Well – Or It’s Too Cryptic – Or Not Mind-Worthy.”

Then I Suck – And – I Blow.  So, I’ve Got That Going Nicely For Me.  I Can Teach You.

 

WHAT’S THE MATTER?

I Want This Blog To Matter A Little …

Not To Everyone.

To Those Whom Matter.

… And, Just The One.

 

I GET LOST WHEN I SHOULD’VE GOT LOST

Writing Things I Regret …  

Words Played Wrong.

Never Meant to Hurt.

… I Am Sorry.

 

THOUGHT ABOUT TURTLING

Closing Kuched …  

I Was Done.

Came Undun.

… I’d Had Enough of Me Being Me.

 

SPELL IT OUT

Writing – For A Spell – Had Become Just That And Only That …

A Spell I Cast Upon Myself.

Felt Like Penance.  For What?

No More.  Done There.

 

KEEPING ON

Wherever This Takes Me – Us – On A Journey … 

No Destination Required: Whenever – If Ever – We Get There.

Is This It?

… Here & Now.

 

WINDING DOWN ON 2019

Appreciate The Good Souls I’ve Met Here …

“Here’s A Little Something Special I’ve Been Saving For You, From Needy Me.”

You Can Open It Now (Down Below).  Or Save It For A Couple Weeks (Stop Reading Now).

It Won’t Go Bad.  You Have My Word.  And, Everything Else.

 

DON’T NEED

Thousands of Followers – Not Even Hundreds – Or, Dozens …

“But, I Do Need You.”

Thanks For Keeping Me Around.  No Walking Alone.

With Love.

– Kuch

 

Photo by João Cabral from Pexels

Dubya Pea Ghosting?

IT’S PROBABLY JUST ME

And, All Y’all – Feeling The Same Unloved Feeling – Like Déjà Voodoo. 

“What’s Going On With Our Lovely Host?”

Hearing Fables Of Lost Followers: On Again, Pissed Off Again.  Posts Gone Poof, Incognito.  Disappearing Into Sweet Nothings, Darling.

… Who’s Been Hacking My Porridge?

 

Photo by Gilberto Reyes from Pexels