Roasts are Good Left-Overs

“Why bother with the niceties?”
“You’re right. We should cut off the candle light and the nice dinner I had planned. The roast is already in the oven, but…”
“You could kiss me now.”
“I thought you wanted to edit out the extras.”
“Oh, right. Well, we could skip to the –”
“Why don’t I just put on a movie?”
“I’ll bring the coffee in.”

They settled onto the couch, each glad the other wanted so little. Just a warm body and a sub-par film.

Professional Communication

She sighed, again. “It’s not what you say, it’s how you say it.”
“I hate you.” I said it very sweetly.
“Better.”

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

I met Jesus last night. He is a vagrant and the Master of Funk. Where he walks, technicolor lights and a Bootsy Collins soundtrack blossom in the air.

I knew who he was the moment I saw him stumbling, drunkenly, down the beach. “Oh, Lord,” I said. “It’s you. What the Hell happened, Jesus?” He did a tumbly dance and fell back on the sand.

“What was I supposed to do?” he replied. The light show flared in time with the trombones and the sun going down.

Jesus is the Master of Funk. And this is a true story.

I Forgot My Heart at Home

The pansies waggled their little heads in the breeze and we lay there side by side but I couldn’t hear him breathe. Oh, he was there, all right. Just not completely. Who was I to judge, half a woman as I was?

Eve’s Revenge

In the Lord’s image Adam was made
But he couldn’t get laid
So from Adam’s rib I was created
I think that means that we are related

Adam was a pretty bad boyfriend
Lord, he never treated me right
He came home drunk every night

After one terrible fight
I took my split lip to the apple tree
Just one bite was enough to make him realize
I was the only woman alive

Well, there were so many trees to choose from
The cherry, the plum, but I took knowledge and started to run
I’m getting out I’m getting out I’m getting out
I’m getting out of Paradise today

We were both told to leave Eden
I moved to Sweden
I feel completed (his profile deleted)
Where ever Adam went to
I’ll never need to know

God’s garden won’t grow
And Satan, my roommate, is digging a very large hole
It is going to be a nudist beach, I’m told
I can’t wait to go swimming.

Your Presence is No Longer Required

Everything of importance is on the computer and backed up in two places.
Do I still have to be here?

That their limbs can hang so tight for
Ever and so long and heavy,
That they should grab hold the height and
Swing under over hardly hardly steady,

That the cold freeze fingers blue for
Reasons like flight and breathlessness,
That the world past chain links grew but
Held no cure for restlessness,

Girlfriends are Great

Whenever Sarah reminds me to take out the trash, I consider asking her to leave. But she does a lot of nice things. For example, she likes me. So I turn up the volume and crack another MGD.

I Could Have Gone to Fiji

I decided to visit my childhood today
The trees were much larger than I remember
and the road stretched much farther out ahead
The cat and the mouse quite clearly fought
While rain puddles became
Lakes for swimming in
By pursing my lips and closing my eyes
I became, convincinly, the bugle, then the band
It’s a serious game I’m playing
With forget-me-nots and lilies

Why Science is Bad for You

I learned yesterday that Leo DaVinci wrote a treasty on the impossibility of perpetual motion. I feel that this explains a good deal about his personality. No wonder he was so hung up on that Lisa chick.

Dude, she was not that hot.