Saturday, September 14, 2013
Friday, September 13, 2013
Confessions of a Fat Foodie
My workplace has free donuts every Friday. Within a year of working here, I will be the fattest person you know.
One of the hardest things about being an adult is making good nutritional choices. But I have no self control. I probably eat just like my 8 year old self would have if given the opportunity. I love food. Especially the unhealthy kind.
Once a week, I will eat a salad, covered with grilled chicken, cheese, croutons, and fatty dressing. Then I will go on a short walk, maybe a block or two, and pat myself on the back. "You're so health conscious." I will say, and that night I will reward myself by eating a whole box of organic peanut butter sandwich cookies.
One of the hardest things about being an adult is making good nutritional choices. But I have no self control. I probably eat just like my 8 year old self would have if given the opportunity. I love food. Especially the unhealthy kind.
Once a week, I will eat a salad, covered with grilled chicken, cheese, croutons, and fatty dressing. Then I will go on a short walk, maybe a block or two, and pat myself on the back. "You're so health conscious." I will say, and that night I will reward myself by eating a whole box of organic peanut butter sandwich cookies.
Monday, September 2, 2013
When I Grow Up
When I grow up I want to be a blues man, a firefighter, and an astronaut. I want to be a reclusive writer and an infamous swordsman. I want to be a race car driver and I want to fight crime. I want to throw the most extravagant soirees on the planet and host the most intimate dinner parties. I want to travel with a lost carnival and see all of the world's wonders.
I want to be famously transparent to the point of exhibitionism, and I want to be an enigma, ever shrouded in mystery. I want to be a million years old and never age a day.
I want to have muscles that cut your eyes when you look at them and I want to be on magazine covers. I want to eat anything and everything I desire.
I want to be a devout husband, a loving father, and a pious saint. I want to run around with all of the prettiest girls and be the most worldly-wise man for miles.
I never want to die. I want to own a hovercraft and move objects with my mind. I want to stand on the edge of the planet and watch the sun burn out.
Then I want to sit in the darkness and listen to the stars until I lose my mind and drift off into outer space.
I want to be famously transparent to the point of exhibitionism, and I want to be an enigma, ever shrouded in mystery. I want to be a million years old and never age a day.
I want to have muscles that cut your eyes when you look at them and I want to be on magazine covers. I want to eat anything and everything I desire.
I want to be a devout husband, a loving father, and a pious saint. I want to run around with all of the prettiest girls and be the most worldly-wise man for miles.
I never want to die. I want to own a hovercraft and move objects with my mind. I want to stand on the edge of the planet and watch the sun burn out.
Then I want to sit in the darkness and listen to the stars until I lose my mind and drift off into outer space.
Sunday, July 21, 2013
Update: Project 157
I have undertaken a deadly task.
I have committed to writing all 157 within a year of the project's inception.
Which means writing about 5 stories a week!
I think I'm going to die.
G
End.
I have committed to writing all 157 within a year of the project's inception.
Which means writing about 5 stories a week!
I think I'm going to die.
G
End.
WIP: Technically Virgins
They were breathing so heavily. He hadn’t expected all of the shaking, he felt like his hormones would tear right through him. His jaw chattered like he was freezing to death.
The sheets were scratchy and moist, the room was cold. Half-light fluttered in through the half open windows, street lights and headlights. The curtains whipped.
Her skin was the softest thing he had ever touched. He ached when he stroked her with his index finger. Dogs barked in the distance, an ambulance wailed far away. Her lips were the softest pinks and reds as they tenderly teased him.
Slowly, they undressed. A sock here, then a button followed by a zipper. Everything was faded and muted, heartbreaking yellows and cold, dark blues.
Neither one of them really knew what to do with their bodies, and nothing and everything felt right.
They smelled like sweat and body spray, the sheets had been freshly cleaned, and reeked of dryer-sheet perfume. He spoke then she spoke, roughly, unsure of what to say. “I love you” was what seemed appropriate, even though neither of them were sure it was true.
A flurry of aggressive kisses. Their mouths were dry and wet. He bit her lip and she bit his neck. They wanted to eat each other up. What they wanted the most they wouldn’t do. Too many promises and prayers for purity.
Abstinence was their cherished value, and no matter how flushing things ever got, they were still technically virgins.
The sheets were scratchy and moist, the room was cold. Half-light fluttered in through the half open windows, street lights and headlights. The curtains whipped.
Her skin was the softest thing he had ever touched. He ached when he stroked her with his index finger. Dogs barked in the distance, an ambulance wailed far away. Her lips were the softest pinks and reds as they tenderly teased him.
Slowly, they undressed. A sock here, then a button followed by a zipper. Everything was faded and muted, heartbreaking yellows and cold, dark blues.
Neither one of them really knew what to do with their bodies, and nothing and everything felt right.
They smelled like sweat and body spray, the sheets had been freshly cleaned, and reeked of dryer-sheet perfume. He spoke then she spoke, roughly, unsure of what to say. “I love you” was what seemed appropriate, even though neither of them were sure it was true.
A flurry of aggressive kisses. Their mouths were dry and wet. He bit her lip and she bit his neck. They wanted to eat each other up. What they wanted the most they wouldn’t do. Too many promises and prayers for purity.
Abstinence was their cherished value, and no matter how flushing things ever got, they were still technically virgins.
A Story Seed
Stretching beyond his headlights, the highway flew under the midnight blue Jaguar. He had the interior lights turned down to an ambient glow. He wore sunglasses to hide his burning eyes. His face was beyond pale, stretched thin over his skull.
In the darkness of the back seat, a youngish girl in a short red dress. Unconscious. She was tied so tightly that the rope was cutting into her wrists.
His foot had never stopped mashing the pedal to the floor, and the engine roared like a lion, revving and revving. He tore over each hill and power-steered through the turns.
Then...
In the darkness of the back seat, a youngish girl in a short red dress. Unconscious. She was tied so tightly that the rope was cutting into her wrists.
His foot had never stopped mashing the pedal to the floor, and the engine roared like a lion, revving and revving. He tore over each hill and power-steered through the turns.
Then...
Saturday, June 8, 2013
What I've Written Today, Part 2 (Three Stories Smashed Together)
The grainy waves waft in under the open blue sky. A boy plays in the yard while his mother hangs clothes, and a man crests the hill on their land. He carries his space helmet under his arm, but is wearing blue jeans and a button down.
The tall black trees reach into the dingy gray sky. A boy stands at the edge of the wood, parents nowhere in sight. He wears suspenders but no shoes, and waits at the edge of the winding trail that leads into the twilight and parallel lines.
The bare bulb hangs from a nicotine stained ceiling. A boy hides under his bed, while his mother feels her husband's fist across her tear-streamed face. Her cries and her husband’s shouts echo up the wooden stairs and into the dark.
She drops her laundry as she sees his face. Hiking up her skirts, she sprints down the front porch steps shouting, "Danny boy, look over the field, your daddy's come home!" he lifts his eyes and squints, barely making out his shape in the distance.
His courage comes as he takes the first steps into the tall, dark wood. The twigs and the stones don't hurt his feet so much, because he's never worn shoes so his soles are tough like leather. The sounds of woodland animals scurry all around.
She raises her arm against his next blow, but his strength is too much to fend off, and his hand catches her in the side of her head. She knows he’s going to kill her this time. As their filthy house spins around her, she shouts, "Baby, I’ve always loved you"
Like a cliché scene from a movie, the astronaut smiles and begins running to meet her. The warm, bulbous sun grins down with oppressive heat, but a swift, cool wind sweeps across their farm. The little boy is trying to keep up, peddling his little legs as fast as he can.
The woods were even darker than he could imagine. The shadows fell like a theater curtain, and swallowed up the little boy whole. He couldn’t see the trail, and he could feel his small heart trying to escape from its cage. Strange noises fill the air, and he can't place any of them.
Her husband stops mid swing. "You what?" his yells down at her. "You love me? I can't believe you would say that after all the things you’ve done." he hits her again. And again, and again. Upstairs, the little boy knows who she meant that for, and his tears burn his eyes and throat.
***
The tall black trees reach into the dingy gray sky. A boy stands at the edge of the wood, parents nowhere in sight. He wears suspenders but no shoes, and waits at the edge of the winding trail that leads into the twilight and parallel lines.
The bare bulb hangs from a nicotine stained ceiling. A boy hides under his bed, while his mother feels her husband's fist across her tear-streamed face. Her cries and her husband’s shouts echo up the wooden stairs and into the dark.
She drops her laundry as she sees his face. Hiking up her skirts, she sprints down the front porch steps shouting, "Danny boy, look over the field, your daddy's come home!" he lifts his eyes and squints, barely making out his shape in the distance.
His courage comes as he takes the first steps into the tall, dark wood. The twigs and the stones don't hurt his feet so much, because he's never worn shoes so his soles are tough like leather. The sounds of woodland animals scurry all around.
She raises her arm against his next blow, but his strength is too much to fend off, and his hand catches her in the side of her head. She knows he’s going to kill her this time. As their filthy house spins around her, she shouts, "Baby, I’ve always loved you"
Like a cliché scene from a movie, the astronaut smiles and begins running to meet her. The warm, bulbous sun grins down with oppressive heat, but a swift, cool wind sweeps across their farm. The little boy is trying to keep up, peddling his little legs as fast as he can.
The woods were even darker than he could imagine. The shadows fell like a theater curtain, and swallowed up the little boy whole. He couldn’t see the trail, and he could feel his small heart trying to escape from its cage. Strange noises fill the air, and he can't place any of them.
Her husband stops mid swing. "You what?" his yells down at her. "You love me? I can't believe you would say that after all the things you’ve done." he hits her again. And again, and again. Upstairs, the little boy knows who she meant that for, and his tears burn his eyes and throat.
***
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