Be part of a LIVE online Art Exhibition NOW! Visit the Artist at Exit O!


No joke folks! Please, please, visit, share, comment and have a go to the Artist at Exit O Riverblog. Wave to the nice folks watching online for your visits, comments and support!  Give the styrofoam Artist a few finger clicks and get into the world-wide art mix. The price of admission is your curiosity pure and simple!

Visit the Kentucky Museum of Art and Craft in Louisville, KY.

Studio Improvements and “The Seven Borders”

All my lovely silent lurkers, it’s time to find the “like” button for Al and the rest of the artists.

No, I will not provide visual enticement! Surf the link to contribute to online cyber ART now!

Namaste! Put your fingers to the keyboard and surf the link! Please!



Last Straw

Who says the elderly are sweet and harmless?

They cut the squirrels’ highway to the sunflower seed buffet today.

Fibromyalgia ain’t slowing their evil plans down.

War has been declared!

Leave the f’n trees alone or
this woman is gonna get ugly
like rock salt on fancy grass

Hey, dammit I eat those dandelions!
Quit with the brain-dead herbicide already!!!!! You’ve destroyed lunch!

Yeah, your baby blues ain’t foolin’ me no more.
I got the score now.
Grandma’s ‘weed’-free lawn gonna get monkeywrenched with some old age sage brush
Grandpa’s noise pollutin’ ridin’ lawnmower gonna get some down time one way or another.
Some hostas goin’ in my salad bar soon!

It’s the end of their world as they know it!
Me and Ma Squirrel got some plans……..

Sensual Saturday with The ONE and ONLY Joan Osborne! O yeah, shake your hips and rattle your souls, cuz Joan is a comin’ on strong!





I have not selected the slickest videos for Joan Osborne. This is a selection of a different sort than those for the previous Lady Voices. I was searching for some tracks that have the powerfull distinctive voice quality that I adore. Please share anything recent you discover on the tubes of you.




Breakfast Special, sixth helping, ‘book-ends’~ In Pursuit of The Fox aka Volpone and Toe-ing Behind the Lines , #6

In Pursuit of The Fox aka Volpone

Standing at the city bus stop, Sarge checked the schedule posted on the back wall of the plexiglass shelter for the next bus that would get him nearest his favorite bookshops. Just before Dylan set off for Pearl’s Market, Sarge boarded the Route 11 and sat down with a sigh of relief. For the next ten minutes he focused on his breathing in an effort to relax.

At Maniac Max’s he eventually found a copy of Ben Jonson’s plays without any annoying yellow high-lighter marring the text. Pen and pencil he didn’t mind. occasionally the notes scribbled in the page margins provided some amusement. But yellow highlighter markings just pissed him off by their very existence. Reminded him too much of dogs marking their territory in clean fresh snow thus spoiling the view for everyone else.

When he put the book on the check-out table where Max sat smoking his pipe and reading a book with a brown paper bag jacket to dissuade unwanted commentary by his customers, Max chuckled. “Finally travelling beyond The Bard, eh Sarge?” Max knocked on the copy of Jonson’s plays with his blue-veined knuckles I guarantee you won’t be disappointed. Like I told you before, Willy ain’t the only fish worth catching in that drama pond.”

“Yeah, well there’s a college production opening soon. Figured a read through before seeing it might be fun.” Sarge glanced at the brown paper bagged book Max had laid down but refrained from indulging his curiosity about Max’s current reading project. Max talked books only when he wanted to talk and only about books he wanted to talk about.

“Yep, I saw that in the paper. Not much press for it. But hey what do we expect right?” Max opened the thick paperback to find the price, made a notation of the item being sold in his spiral notebook and tossed the five dollar bill Sarge handed him into the little metal lock box at the edge of the old wooden table. Max openly stared at Sarge for a few moments. “Got a shave, huh? Beard was sweet thick, but hey, clean looks good on you, man. What’s the occasion?”

Sarge shook his head and pointed at Max’s book. “Rather not discuss any part of it.”

Max laughed and nodded. “Okay, okay. Two way street here, Sarge. No problem. I read you.” He saluted as Sarge walked to the door of the old warehouse reformed into a massive used bookstore. “Hey, lemme know if that crew does a job worth a ride out to the Falls—or not. Give the message machine some action, okay, Sarge?”

“Will do, Max. I’m catching it Friday night. Make sure there’s space on your tape. Later.”

Five minutes after reaching the bus stop for the first part of his return trip, Sarge forgot all about the latest encounters with his family when he began reading Volpone, the Fox.


Toe-ing Behind the Lines

Needing to rest her eyes, Lily laid her pencil between the pages of her Calculus textbook, slouched down into the spacious seat of the hard oak chair and stared glassy-eyed at the latest round of snow drifting up against the library’s basement level windows. It had been a long week of classes, tutoring fellow students who passionately hated the very idea of math, and extra sessions with others having difficulty with course papers coming due soon.

Friday was looking like a day of rest in comparison to the week so far. Her ten o’clock drama course had been cancelled in advance due to a roof catastrophe at the professor’s home resulting from the ongoing winter weather conditions. Her morning would be entirely her own. A few hours of first come, first serve tutoring during the afternoon would be welcome. After three o’clock she’d have a much-needed respite from the rest of the world. As for today, only Jake, the theatre tech major, was left on her tutoring docket for his regular 5:30 session.

While waiting for Jake’s arrival, Lily remembered the ticket he’d given her to pay for his last tutoring session. The ticket was taped to the corner of her closet mirror as a reminder that there was something fun to look forward to when this week ended. With a start, she sat up and stared out the window with sudden horror thinking, Oh hell I’ve got a date with that guy from Bob’s. Aloud she whispered to herself, “He’ll never show. No way. Guy reads sci-fi. Definitely not a drama fan.”

Sarge actually meeting up with her at the Orpheum was way too unlikely to even consider the possibility further. But she thought it would have been nice to share something like this play with someone else who also wanted to see it performed. Too tall guy with wild mountain man beard didn’t exactly seem the right type for that. Having convinced herself that she’d be on her own Friday night, she relaxed and slid down into the roomy chair again. Off came her boots and up went her purple wool stockinged feet onto the oak table-top. Her back resting on the seat of the chair she watched her toes’ mummer dance while humming a very very old song about a woman and man ice fishing during a snowstorm.


Breakfast Special, seventh helping, “Odds? What Odds? Oh the odds of probability. Yeah, those odds.” –>>

Stop Pebble Mine! Act soon, Sunday deadline approaches.

Yeah, well insanity, denial, greed, willful ignorance and just plain reliable stupidity seem to be running rampant in the good old USA today in regard to a great many very important issues.
Why do so many humans literally ‘shit where they eat?’ —Hmm? Why is this true?

“Hey, let’s go fishing,” said one Koch bro to another.

“Fishing? Isn’t that some form of low brow human labor?” said the other Koch bro. “Oh you meant open a can of tuna! Now I’m with you, bro!”

I think you know where this is going already soooo I will cease and desist.

Another Type of Breakfast Special–Hot Chocolate Banana Burritos. Or are they tacos?

Compliments of Yi-Ching Lin

Who is up for a healthy chocolate high supreme? I AM! I AM! Actually dark chocolate gets me flying just thinking about it, but enough about that silliness.

What do you need?

-One banana sliced to suit you.

-One whole wheat tortilla.

-Enough butter to lightly cover the banana up side of the tortilla.

-As many Guittard real Semisweet Chocolate Chips as you can stand to eat after they melt. Careful, these Guittard chips melt as fast as butter does. These chippies melt in your mouth. I kid not. Other brands have NOTHING on Guittard’s Semisweet Chocolate. NOTHING! Which means you’re going to die and go straight to heaven with this breakfast special banana delight.

Okay here goes everything:
Heat your whole wheat tortilla on both sides until you can just put a very light coating of butter on the upside. While on low to medium heat toss down about half your desired portion of semisweet chips. Then cover half the tortilla with sliced bananas. Next throw down the rest of your semisweet yum yums. Shut off heat. Fold the half of tortilla sans bananas over the banana half. Carefully ‘flip’ over and let rest for about thirty seconds depending on your heat level and if you desire a crunchy crisp burrito or a soft serve one. Remove from pan. Devour once cool enough to not burn your fingers, lips, tongue or the roof your mouth.

Warning: Highly addictive.

Guittard Chocolate Company –>>
Yes, you want to discover Guittard Chocolate. OH yes you do. Indulge! Indulge!

It’s been pointed out to moi that folding the tortilla in half is more like a taco–hence, these would be chocolate banana tacos not burritos. Apparently rolling the tortilla would create a burrito. I’ve done both. Take your pick. It’s all very very yummy yummy in your tummy.

Visit Yi-Ching Lin’s Waking Up New blogcasa for more visual delights. 🙂 Careful also very addictive.

Letterman Does DeChristopher! High Fives to to Dave and CBS!

Bidder 70 in LA on Friday 28, June, 2013.

Purchase ticket.

Friday, June 28 – Thursday, July 4: noon, 2:10 pm and 7:30 pm

Music Hall
9036 Wilshire Blvd., Beverly Hills, CA 90211

Saturday, June 29 and Sunday, June 30: 11 am

Claremont 5
450 West 2nd Street Claremont, CA 91711

Playhouse 7
673 East Colorado Blvd. Pasadena, CA 91101

Monica 4
1332 2nd Street, Santa Monica, CA 90401

Whose up for some TRUTH? Hmm? No snow required. No whistles blowing. Just the reality of Utah, BLM, DeChristopher and Climate Change. If you’re in LA–then where else do you NEED to be?

Breakfast Special, fifth helping, “Pussy No More” , #5

Pussy No More

When morning made a feeble attempt at sending a few dull rays of sunlight across Nora’s glossy cherry top dining table, Dylan was stirring a single spoonful of honey into his cup of fresh black coffee. Setting the spoon aside he pulled the cup close so he could inhale the steam rising from the rich dark roast. He watched his wife glance towards the empty stairs then back at the window where her array of snake plants resided on the wide inner sill. “He slept in the back bedroom last night. Didn’t go out after the rest left, judging from his shoes.”

Nora turned in her chair a little and pointed with her cup towards the closet near the front door. “Coat dry? It snowed a little just before I got up”

“Very dry. Checked when I first saw his shoes still on the mat where he set them after helping Francis load up his brood.”

Nora made a face. “Dyl, do you think he’s, I dunno, maybe he’s like coming out of the closet?”

A ripple of quiet laughter flowed from the big man as he shook his head. “You mean like a gay fella? No, Nora, I certainly think not!”

“I could handle it if that’s what’s going on with him. Be a bit of an adjustment certainly. . . But I’d cope. I know could. There are worse things than having a gay son. Never mind what Father Joseph says. Don’t care much for half of what that sad excuse for a priest yaps about anyways. I think he hates anyone who enjoys sex judging from what comes out of his mouth.”

“No argument from me on that score, love.” Dylan sipped his coffee then rubbed his chin. “I’d have placed good money on Sarge stepping out with Blondie last night though. You see the legs on that girl? Sweet Mother of God. Can’t say Irene didn’t pull out all the stops with her.”

“No blaming Irene at all indeed. Nor the rest of them. Sure there’s been a few poor picks over the years, but that’s got to be expected considering human nature. You never know for sure what some people will turn into after a few glasses of wine.”

“Or bottles of beer.”

“Indeed.” Nora folded her hands around her cup. “Did I go too far with the razor yesterday, Dyl?”

“Naw. Don’t think so at all. It was a good move having you lead the charge. He’d have fought me tooth and nail soon as he figured the score. But not you. No way he’d ever lift even a finger against his Ma. You didn’t bleed him a bit. Even if you had, hell, the result is worth it. He’s a fine-looking man. Cleans up right well. He ought not to go round looking like same damned overgrown stray dog.” Dylan reached out and put a huge hand around Nora’s. “Might be that our Sarge is just one of those fellas who play the field their whole life, love. It’s not like we’re wanting for grandchildren either.”

Nora nodded then frowned. “Could be, Dyl, could be. But then shouldn’t he have gone off with Blondie?”

“Well, you got me there for sure. I Can’t figure that score at all, Nora.” At sound of the doorbell, Dylan went to the front door. “Well, well, if it ain’t Benj come bearing gifts.”

Dylan held the front door open wide for their youngest son, Benj, who entered holding a large bakery box. “Morning, Ma. Hey Dad. Went to Pearl’s first thing to get sweet rolls for Sharon and they had a fresh load of chocolate éclairs.”

“Oh they’ve not had those in months. You’re a dear, Benj. Thanks so much. Can you stay for one and some brew or are you on the move?” said Nora as she opened the box holding a baker’s dozen of her favorite pastry.

“I’ve got time for a hot cup and a taste. Sharon’s not even awake yet.” Benj hung his coat on the back of his chair then sat down as Dylan poured him a cup of coffee. Benj was as tall as his father and eldest brother but with his mother’s lean slender frame. “He up yet?” said Benj with a nod towards Sarge’s shoes on the mat by the front door.

“If so, he’s being deadly quiet about it,” said Nora.

Benj licked a smear of dark chocolate icing from his éclair. “Who did the dirty deed?”

“Your Ma can lay claim to the fine work.”

Benj held up a hand for a high-five with Nora. “Good job. Why did you stop? His mop needs major clipping.”

Nora swallowed before answering. “Wasn’t sure I could keep from just taking it all off.”

Benj snorted. “It wouldn’t have mattered if you had. Rogaine would make a fortune if they could figure out how his mop grows so fast and market it to baldies. You should have gone whole hog on him. You remember when we were kids and we would chop it off just to see how long it would take it to grow back.”

“Oh do I ever.” Nora laughed a little at the memory. “Speak of the devil. Here he comes now.”

The trio enjoying coffee and éclairs watched Sarge come down the stairs and warily approach the table. Benj turned sideways in his chair to make eye contact with his oldest brother who had come to the room’s arched entrance but no further. “So big bro, what’s the score? Hmm? You blow a major man fuse or what?”

“What the hell are you talking about, Benj?”

“You leaving that scorching hot dish to freeze last night is what I’m talking about, Sarge. What else did you think?”

“Is this some kind of intervention or what?” demanded Sarge as he looked at his parents and youngest brother in turn.

“Hey, good word, Sarge. Yeah, this is an in-ter-vent-ion. Humor me just a tad will you, Sarge. Considering how invisible you’ve been for the last month or so, can you at least satisfy my very healthy male curiosity as to why you left Debbie high and dry last night? Hmm?”

“Your healthy male curiosity can mind its own business, Benj. I’ll mind my mine.” Sarge eyed the empty cup, Dylan held up to see if he wanted coffee. “No thanks, Dad.”

“Frankly, all things considered, my curiosity would like a little satisfaction too, Sargent.” Nora pushed a chair towards Sarge with her foot indicating that he ought to take a seat. She stared at her son and waited for him to sit until he took a few steps backward instead. “What’s going on with you? Hmm? Tell me or you’re gonna get a visit when you least expect one. If you didn’t hit it off with Debbie, that’s fine. No problem. Just say so if that’s the case. Shed a little light on the subject is all we’re asking.”

Sensing that his son was suddenly planning a fast exit rather than answer Nora or Benj, Dylan quietly rose and made his way to the front door mat and picked up Sarge’s black loafers. Holding the shoes behind his back, he stood silently but effectively blocking access to the front door. This did not go unnoticed by Sarge who was also aware that Benj was already sitting directly in the path to the kitchen door rear entrance.

Wondering what sort of attack the trio was plotting, Sarge backed up against the nearest wall. “What do you want from me? Huh? What?”

“Jesus, Sarge, we just want to know what the hell is going on with you. And I don’t mean the last few weeks. Even before the lousy weather set in, you have been more AWOL than present. Right, Ma? I figure you been weirding out for at least the last eight months.”

Nora nodded. “Oh yeah, eight at the very least, Benj. Maybe eleven if I really start thinking about it.”

Sarge considered his options. “Nothing is going on with me. Just been working my ass off is all. Between regular shifts, overtime and helping Kozy with the wiring and plumbing I’ve just been busy.”

“Busy? Aha.” Benj’s disbelief was obvious. “You’ve been too overworked and busy for a single pussy run? Seriously, man for over eight f’n months? We’re not morons.”

“Benj, don’t be vulgar.” Nora glanced at Dylan who shrugged and remained silent. “Sargent, are you sick? You catch something along the way with all your flying about from girl to girl? Forget to use a condom in the heat of the moment?”

Stunned by his mother’s candidness, Sarge couldn’t do more than shake his head in denial.

“So? What then, Sarge? Hmm?” demanded Benj.

Feeling cornered and unsure of how to get out of the situation Sarge looked around the dining room in frustration. The Sunday morning paper caught his eye and he recalled the start of his conversation with the delectable, but never to be tasted, delight named Debbie. Grasping for any straw with even half a chance of ending the current standoff, Sarge said, “Okay, okay. No big mystery. I’m seeing someone.”

“What?! Who?!” demanded Benj. Rising out of his chair he faced off with his brother.

An exchange of incredulous surprised looks passed quickly between Nora and Dylan. Forcing herself to remain seated, Nora took a deep breath and held it for a count of twenty while waiting for Sarge to answer the questions Benj had spoken on everyone’s behalf.

“Just someone. A woman. Satisfied? Okay? Everyone happy now that Sarge’s big secret is out of the bag?”

Benj shook his head. “Bullshit. No way.”

“You calling me a liar, Benj?”

“Oh yeah. Big time. If you’ve been seeing someone steady why not bring her home for a meet? Hmm? Why not?”

“Bugger off, Benj.”

“Hey, just because I’m your only brother here at the moment doesn’t mean we all haven’t been wondering, Sarge. We all have been.”

Nora looked from son to son and wondered what her eldest was really lying about. “This someone have a name?”

Thinking that no one would ever be the wiser, Sarge decided to give them whatever it would take in order to make an escape from the brownstone as soon as possible. “Lily. Her name is Lily. Don’t believe me, Benj? Hm? Make a curtsey run to Big Bob’s on Fifth. Ask Stanley who I had breakfast with Friday morning. Go ahead. Remind him that Lily ordering poached eggs pissed him off.”

Without a single squeak from the hardwood floor, Dylan came up and dropped Sarge’s shoes next to his stocking feet. When Sarge looked him in the eye, Dylan arched his brows and returned to his seat at the table. Without another word, Sarge slipped on the loafers, grabbed his coat from the closet, walked to his mother, took her birthday present out of the inner pocket and laid it on the table next to her coffee cup. Seeing the dark look in her eyes, he decided against kissing her cheek. “Dad. Benj. Later.” Pulling his coat on, Sarge nearly ran out the front door in spite of his effort to maintain some semblance of calm.

As Sarge made haste down the street putting distance between himself and the family home as quickly as the slick soled loafers allowed, Nora, Benj and Dylan waited for someone else to speak first. Dylan filled everyone’s cups then sat down slowly. “Do it Benj. Have a word with Stan. See if he has any clue.”

“About this fake Lily? What for? We all know he’s lying through his teeth.”

Dylan shrugged, “Lily or no Lily makes no difference at this point, Benj. We need to find out what’s up and clearly Sarge ain’t talking. He’s been catching breakfast at Big Bob’s for a while now. Stan’s got good eyes and ears. So maybe he knows something we don’t.” Dylan and Benj turned their attention to Nora as she opened the small envelope like package Sarge had given her. “What’s it this time? How much did he blow?”

Nora shook her head as she laid out a pair of plane tickets and other travel information on the table for them to see. “Some resort in Jamaica for a full week. Plane, room, tour guide, meals, everything paid for. Maybe three grand?” She picked up a gift card with a note tapped to it and waved it. “For new swimsuits it says.”

“He’s nuts. If he was really seeing someone steady he’d be stashing whatever cash he wasn’t spending on snaring her. That’s more proof he just bullshit his way out of here,” declared Benj. “Furthermore, what guy in their right mind takes their steady squeeze to Big Bob’s for breakfast?”

Nora ran her hands through her hair then held her head in her hands. “Okay. Benj do like Dyl said. As soon as you can, make a delivery run out to Bob’s or nearby. Hit Stan up for anything he might have noticed. Dylan, get Irene on the phone. Tell her to get a hold of that Debbie and haul her back over here. We want to know everything she and Sargent talked about last night. Make sure she knows we’ll pay for a taxi if she needs one.”

“On it,” said Dylan as he went for the phone.

“I’ll call Sharon and get her started on finding baby sitters so we can have a decent family meet tonight,” said Benj.”Then I’ll call James and Patrick.”

Nora nodded. “That’s good, Benj. Do you think that Kozy will talk to me if I make a call or should I just show up in person?”

Benj listened to Dylan talking to Irene on the phone before answering. Tapping his fingers on the table top he thought hard. “Kozy’s kinda in his own world, Ma. I don’t think he’ll pay attention unless you’re right in front of him. Even then it’s dicey. Let’s face it; Kozy’s idea of normal is pretty far off from anyone else’s normal.”

“Well, that’s a given, Benj. I’d have to talk to him about Sargent without directly talking about Sargent. Maybe we can come up with something tonight. Need to out think Kozy or he might get the wrong idea.”

Benj laughed. “That’s rich, Ma. Really rich. Wrap our heads around Kozy’s? Better break out the hard liquor for that.” He looked up when Dylan returned to the table and immediately went to call Sharon.

“Irene is pretty sure she can get Debbie here with them. Seems she and Irene already had quite a little chat last night. So no problem there. And she’s gonna get Francis to call Mark so that’s all covered.” Dylan stared at the coffee pot. “What’s the name of that girl Patrick and Denise brought round? The last one we know Sarge stepped out with for a while.”

“The one with the gold streaks in her hair? That one?”

“Yeah her. You remember her name? Maybe we should have a chat with her too.”

“Mellie or maybe Millie. Denise will know for sure. I like that, Dyl,” said Nora.

“We’re gonna need some food for tonight. How about I go see if Pearl’s has a fresh turkey?”

“Yeah, that would do the trick, Dyl. If not, then just pick whatever’s not frozen that they got enough of on hand.” Nora helped her husband into his coat and kissed him hard before he set off for Pearl’s Market. Back at the table she stood looking over the plane tickets for herself and Dylan to the flashy resort in Jamaica. “Sargent, whatever is going on in your head? Jamaica? Me and Dyl? Swimsuits? Snorkeling? What the hell?”


Breakfast Special, sixth helping, ‘book-ends’ ~ In Pursuit of The Fox aka Volpone and Toe-ing Behind the Lines  —>>

Breakfast Special, fourth helping, “People?! Really now . . .” , #4

People?! Really now…

Midway down the stairs, Sarge completed his inventory by sight and sound of the presence of every person in the brownstone. Another man would have been cheered by the sight of the very pretty, leggy blonde woman admiring his mother’s collection of antique serving platters displayed on the rich mahogany hutch. At another point in time, Sarge would have gleefully set forth to get into her good graces early in the evening in order insure a mutually satisfying scenario elsewhere much later. But tonight his heart sank knowing that yet again another young woman, perfectly fine in her own right, had been coaxed here to meet a man who might be just right for her, but who knew himself that he certainly was anything but.

The veritable flood of small children and everything hauled along for their nurturing provided ample cover for Sarge as he made his way carefully through the crowd created by the presence of all Nora and Dylan’s offspring, their mates and spawnings under one roof at the same time. Dutifully he exchanged hugs and polite kisses until he arrived at a corner in the dining room where he could settle in relative comfort with his back to the wall and a clear view of any further oncoming assaults on his person by his mother, or anyone else for that matter.

Catching sight of the day’s paper resting in the magazine holder, Sarge promptly put it to use as a means of showing his attention was occupied. It wasn’t long before he caught his mother glaring at him from the front room. He waited for her to come forth and remove the offensive text from his hands but she did not. But it wasn’t long after that the pretty blonde in the very classy blue dress appeared on the chair next to his as if on cue. “Anything good in the news?” she purred.

When he made eye contact with her sparkling baby blues she smiled and held out her hand while introducing herself as Debbie from Martine. Considering that absolute politeness was the best course at the moment, Sarge managed to respond in kind. “As for any good news, well does the entertainment section count?”

Debbie giggled a little then flicked the newspaper with her fingertips. “Irene said you had a sense of humor.”

“Oh she did, did she? Well, Irene is one very sly little minx so it must be true.” Sarge made a show of turning to the entertainment pages as if he was doing so for Debbie’s amusement.

“I guess she is rather sly.” Debbie laughed a soft little laugh that made Sarge look at her with curiosity. “She didn’t even drop a hint about you being very good-looking.” Debbie completed her sentence with a light fingernail tap to Sarge’s recently sheared chin. He noticed that her nail polish matched the blue of her dress.

Watching Debbie’s blue hued nails coyly play at the edges of the newspaper lying open on the table, Sarge briefly admired the clearly professional paint job. Then his thoughts turned to another woman’s fingers, a smaller hand with unpainted nails using toast to break egg yolks. Leaning over the entertainment section, he scanned the contents in genuine earnest until he found the little rectangle festooned with archaic curlie cued lettering announcing the upcoming performances of Ben Jonson’s Volpone, the Fox at the Orpheum Theatre. Sarge slid the paper closer towards Debbie. “Do you know anything about this play?”

Debbie glanced at the text Sarge pointed at. “Not a thing. Sorry. But I did see a performance of Joseph and his coat at church last week.” She smiled brightly at him displaying a perfect set of very white teeth.

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s the same sort of thing though.” He debated with himself for a moment. “What do you read, Debbie?”

“Oh I read People magazine all the time. Haven’t missed an issue since it first came out. And my bible, of course. Every day for a half hour. What about you? What do you read, Sarge? Besides the newspaper, of course.”

Without the slightest hesitation, Sarge said, “Porn. Every chance I get. I read all the porn I can lay my hands on.” Seeing Debbie lean back a little and her smile fade, he pressed onward. “Do you have any idea what you can learn about human anatomy from pornography? Debbie it’s totally mind-blowing the things a woman’s body can do. Have you ever …”


Breakfast Special, fifth helping, “Pussy No More”–>>

Heads Up! Tim DeChristopher on Letterman Tuesday Night!

Yes, according to Gage and Gage Productions–the people who made the film Bidder 70, the one and only Tim DeChristopher will appear on late night television with David Letterman this Tuesday June 25, 2013.
Oh yeah, let’s frack the night away! It’s time to rock the status quo boats!

If you’re in the dark about the bright light that is Mr. Tim DeChristopher, then check him out on Bill Moyers.

“Check your local listings for showtimes and if you are in LA, check out the premiere of Bidder 70 at the Laemmle Theater June 28th through July 4th!”

Gage and Gage Productions

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Working together to make the world a better place to live! A fine site

Spirit In Action

Change IS coming. WE can make it GOOD.

Rezinate's Blog

Just another site

Through the Peacock's Eyes

Insights for Spiritual Living


Living Mental Health Rehab in Israel

the zen space

a space for zen words

We Write Poems

a community of people reading & writing poems, moving words


Bringing Social Issues To The Forefront

R. L. Culpeper

Sapere Aude


For Peace On Earth In This Generation


You can't stop the waves, but you can learn to surf.

Eléctrica in the Desert

News, photos, stories, and trouble from the borderland

Coco J. Ginger Says

Poems and stories of love & heartbreak.