Tag Archives: relationships

In Your Krispy Kreme Dreams

The most important sit-up
Is when I get up
The most important stretch
Is when I yawn and the person I made it official with holds my hand when my arms are over my head
I didn’t get a chance to exercise my demons because their heads fell out of rotation stretching their necks
As if I care to fight fair with nightmares, hell no!
I don’t give a diddly squat
Even Ned Flanders played the devil
Did he? Yup!
In your Krispy Kreme dreams will I let these aliens prevent me from becoming the next Ridley Scott
Sleeping with your eyes open is the style to me
Especially when your dreams become a reality
“So, how come you don’t kiss me with your eyes open if I’m your dream girl?”
Lizzy, stop it, okay, you know you’re my world
Stop being a creep!
Every time I dream of flying my pillow gets a feather
So that sit-up isn’t really a sit-up if I’m already sitting up cause my head is propped so high it’s like I’m sitting in a chair
It’s not 400 degreez, how the hell we suppose to break the damn ice talking about weather?
Our phones doing jumping jacks and about to go splat
I knee tuck jumped out of bed
She pushed up her bra and jumped on my back, and I quote, “If you give me a piggyback ride to the kitchen I’ll feed on your neck.”
Hay hay hay now!
So you expect for me to be able to walk while you eat like we some tread meal?
You know damn well that piggyback will turn into a horseback that will turn into a bareback that will turn into a broke-back
Tender love Chili chhhhhill
I got bacon for a mouth as a thank you for that piggyback ride
As well as pancake for a face, whipped cream for a nose, and sunny-side up eggs for eyes
I call it my happy breakfast
Mean mug sitting next to it
My coffee mug says, “Once you go black you never go back.”
That made me afraid to start
‘Cause the cream I poured into my coffee formed into what I recognize as a heart
The handle looks like half a heart so it’s a love handle
And I know this is too hot to handle
Yeah, too hot to handle
So I’ll show proof by uploading a front and side view to Snapchat
I figure these mugshots will do numbers that ain’t half bad
Walking out the big house with long strides to see Lizzy prison posing by the hood
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! I swear to God freedom never felt so fuckin’ good
So good
So good
So good
So good
So so
So so
So so
Good good
Good good
Good good
Goo goo D
Fuck fuck
Uccccckkkkk
Orange jumpsuits the new black tuxedos
“Boy, you’re so dope”
You’re my heroin with the extra E
“Are you trying to out-drug-addict me?”
Girl, you don’t want this smoke!

Upcoming posts:

  • Nowhere To Go (about Taco Bell …again)
  • Toys R Us (recently found out they closed all their stores and thought of a short, sweet post. I’m using Sims 4 for this one)
  • Headhunters movie review (first movie I watched with subtitles)
  • 3 Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri movie review
  • If parents were paid for what they do (originally planned for Mother’s Day)
  • The night I got stabbed 17 times in the mouth … by Doritos
  • SWB
  • Not getting paid on time 2 weeks in a row … and killing my boss. In fact, I’m writing this on the run. Sorry for any typos. My auto-coreck want eve cum to my restq. Can u blam it? I curfew it out one two mini tines. Dat’s a little or dat’s a lot! A pair rently, it’s a lot!
  • A bunch of other movie reviews
  • WordPressident #14 to Infinity
  • Not enough female influence?
  • Rachel Zane vs. Megan Markle
  • 10 Annoying Things Gay People Did During “Pride Month”
  • A bunch of drafts from 2013

Note: Some of these will be standalone, incorporated within a bigger post or just scrapped altogether. Probably the last one.

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Get your ass in the car

I said get your ass in the car, Lizzy

Put my suit jacket over the cold shoulder she gave me

Over the cold-shoulder-dress she’s looking hot in

Hand on the small of her back leading her while letting her be the leader

She’s two steps ahead but I’m on her heels

Other hand getting the door

Pulling her by the hair mid-squat in the car

Putting her hair behind her ear, caressing her chin, lightly choking her, tilting my head since I got the bigger nose and pinning her tongue down

Her eyes remained close for another 3 seconds after the muah like it was the kiss of death

Her knees buckling

Hand on the small of her back slowly rubbing her ass and thighs before hooking her at the popliteal to pick her up

Dropped her on the leather seats to the sounds of creak and squeak and crunch and scrunch as she fixed her dress in the doorway

Peered through the rear windshield to see was Jane Doe gone be ex or be next

I victory flexed, whispery yes, when I saw her leaning over cheating during the door test

Necktie wrapped around my head in a cancer awareness ribbon knot

They’re not shades, they’re not sunglasses, they’re alien eyes

Sleeves of my buttoned-up rolled to the forearm

First two buttons undone makes it a V-neck

Leather gloves on steering with just two fingers

Holding my beer with two fingers

Driving with an elbow out the window

My hand just above her knee

Her leg shaking

Everything she saying has a vibration in it

But she never once asked, “are we there yet?” ‘cause she likes the long rides

The windows fogged up

And reappeared something from when they were last fogged up … Har+new

WordPressident #12

Waves crash into hourglass
Life’s a beach with sand between your toes you harp
Or life’s a bitch when you step on something sharp


Ferris wheel lights when dad carrying you on his shoulders doesn’t meet the required height

Scoop of ice cream falling out the cone in slow motion, splat

Because my baby thought it was a upside-down head wearing a birthday hat

A child’s melting ice cream makes up the white lines in the street

Her ice cream cone the traffic cone

I kneel for my young and tell her the streets were paved with the heart of gold

To pick up the pieces I hustle man

Move my feet to the saxophone with the kazoo stuck to it

Kick a bar of gold to Kimchi

“Daddy, why did the free-range chicken cross the road?”

Why?

“To get to the other sides.”

I guess you didn’t like daddy’s raggedy ass peas?

“Everything else was hitting.”

Pass the peas like we use to do.

“Did you say pass the peas like you use to do?”

I say pass the peas like we use to do.

“Whoa! Pass the peas like we use to do!”

I grab the pea from the microwave with my thumb and my index and passed it to the doctor at the head of the table. Bowed my head, said grace, “God please don’t let him ask for the deviled egg too.”

Ehh, what’s up doc’?

“Honey bunny, you know it’s bad table manners to talk with food in your mouth.”

I spit the carrot pieces in her hand

“Mr. Bunny, I’m sorry, forgive me for not having a petite appetite, but if I don’t take this off your plate I take off my white coat and throw it over your body.”

My boo caught the Holy Ghost just from hearing that

“Baby, we already made our Miracle On 34th Street and she need you present in her life. I’ll support you if you get sacked from your job for needing more than 2 weeks. I don’t like football no way and the effects of being sacked. What you have in the sac won’t affect what we have in the sack.”


Then I woke up.

Computer Love <3

I typed H-E and paused by pressing the equal sign on the keyboard.

This was more than a blinking text cursor.

The other half was batting it’s eyelashes.

Was it flirting?

Flashing a lowercase L?

Or telling me I’m number one?

I pressed play by clicking the greater-than sign on the keyboard and proceeded to type A-R-T.

The word transformed into a picture of the word. It was a bigggggg heart. And I guess that’s what made the only thing move was the spinning beach ball, although, I wasn’t on the net.

Cursor stuck.

Cursing FUCK!

Freeze!

Froze.

Cold heart.

The mouse was just eating out of my palm, but now I’m jerking it back and forth like some string cheese.

It came to as I bowed over the desk and the arrow shot straight for the heart but because the cursor is tilted it missed.

Now the cursor is a small hand L gesture. What?! How am I a loser? I’m not responsible for the arrow being slanted. Hell, I don’t even shoot my gun sideways. I’ll leave that to your modern-day Robin Hoods. I wouldn’t try to attack the bottom of the heart with my pointer even with the heart looking like a bottom, if I may point out. I may cum across as anal paying attention to de-tails like that but fuck it!

Again, why should I have to rest an L on my forehead when there is already an S curled up there? Who am I? Clark Kent at The Daily Planet. If I throw up L then I gotta throw another L up. Laughing like shit ‘cause that’s like the bat-signal for you-know-who to roll on over to my cubicle, batting her eyelashes like Barbara Gordon. Aight, you keep doing that and your lashes gone get stuck in your eye, gone be blind as a bat. Aight, enough clowning around, let’s show my computer love like I-T.

We caps-locked lips. She lifted her foot off the ground. “Damn, her leg looks like an L.” My S curl became erect. Still a little crooked though.

Now the cursor is the rewind button, which is the less-than sign, neighboring the number 3.

We tilt our heads to the right when we’re trying to understand something.

“Understand?”

“Understood.”

To the beat.

This is our song. Let us have the floor, please.

Unemployed Dream

My alarm clock is my cuddle buddy not in the bed the following morning

Going from a “hey big head” to a airhead, from a booty pillow to a bubble butt always wakes me up

Her schedule waits for no man

“Why you have me do the big spoon, little spoon when you knew you had to work?”

“Bear, I told you I had to get up at 6, and we did the butt ‘cheek-to-cheek.’ Remember you ripped the bedsheets with your big toe nail when we played footsie? Look!”

“Well, who was I hugging from the back?”

“Maybe your dream girl.”

“Describe her.”

“Unemployed.”

“…”

“Now baby I have to go. Your Captain Crunch is getting cold. It’s on the table, been sitting in the milk for 15 minutes which is long enough for it not to mess up the roof of your mouth. Now give me a kiss peace. A closed-mouth one though. You got morning breath. I don’t want to have to brush my teeth all over again. You know toothpaste makes me gag.”

“Me too.”

“What we don’t have in common?”

“Hmm. We’re not in the same bed right now.”

“What about now?”

“You’re leaning over the bed. Technically, no body part is in it.”

“Now?”

“You have a really pretty smooth sore-free, arrow-less left knee. Looks way better than mines. Butttttt there are a few body parts I think I like a little bit better.”

“Hmm. This one?”

“Wait. Wait. Before you sit your ass on the bed long enough to make a smiley face imprint you should remember one important thing … you have to go to work.”

“Haven’t you heard?”

“What?”

“I’m unemployed.”

Perhaps …

When you put a pause to what you’re saying I want to help you search for the right word to complete your sentence.

But you accidentally stumbled up-pond why I am an elusive island with the word you left me to work with.

Perhaps, Me? Me? “Don’t have a cow, man” I had to udder to myself after seeing the notification. This what I get for being a simp, son. Turned Coldplay’s yell low so I could hear myself think.

Love and like.

Like and love.

Both begin with L and end in E.

I’m overcompensating for the letters in-between because it reveals the truth, and I’m all too aware of abbreviations and Memphis slang to ignore it.

I know it’s over.

I don’t want it to be but I’m not too shore of the current events. The waves are goodbyes. You can’t travel by relationship from an Artificial Island to a Barrier Island when another pirate already put an “arrr” in your title Ms. I cried a river up-pond realizing “arrr” means a definite yes while “perhaps” means uncertainty.

And quite frankly, that’s the only reason you’re having oceans of trouble breaking the barriers.

It’s definitely not the booties because Passport Bear landed in love with you so hard during your layover any baggage you claim I accept as a carry-on.

I want your island to flourish, but not at the risk of mines going unnoticed because I would still love to sea you come by in your friendship.

I want ’em back (I want ’em back)
The minds we had (the minds we had)
How all the thoughts (how all the thoughts)
Moved ’round our heads (moved ’round our heads)
I want ’em back (I want ’em back)
The minds we had (the minds we had)
It’s not enough to feel the lack
I want ’em back, I want ’em back, I want ’em
You’re the only friend I need
Sharing beds like little kids
Laughing ’til our ribs get tough
But that will never be enough

Daily Writing Prompt: The Milkman.

Son – Dad, where you going?

Dad – Uhh … going to get some milk. We’re all out.

Son – Can I come?

Dad – Not this time.

Son – Why? You always let me go.

Dad – Just not this time, okay. I’m going to a different store and they don’t allow kids in this late.

Son – What store is that?

Dad – Look, I gotta go, okay?

Son – But you don’t have to go. We don’t need milk. I don’t like cereal or chocolate milk anymore. So you can stay now. Here, take your jacket off and sit down.

Dad – Your mom needs the milk to put in her cornbread.

Son – Well let her go to the store and you stay. You stay here. Close the door and sit down. I wanna show you something upstairs. Let’s go!

Dad – I’ll see it when I get back.

Son – Can I go … pleassssseeeee?

Dad – … well you can’t go looking like that. Go upstairs and put your evening clothes on.

Son – Yay! runs halfway upstairs Dad, dad, can … can you come upstairs with me and help me put my clothes on?

Dad – Your mother is up there. She’ll help you.

Son – Mom … can you tie my shoes?

Mom – Where you going?

Son – With dad to go get some milk for your cornbread.

Mom – I’m not cooking cornbread.

Son – runs to bedroom window and sees dad truck leaving driveway He tricked me.

Mom – He got me too.

Son – Why daddy don’t want us no more?