every bit as bad as my bark. Will you take me out for a bite?
Photo 101 Assignment Six: Connect
Which is Worse?
Reply
Category Archives: humor
Out of Season
Weekly Photo Challenge: Off-Season
Haunted
Rest in peace, they said. I imagined solitude. No soul in sight? Ha!
Photo 101 Assignment Five: Solitude
– – it Doesn’t Always Hit the Fan
Enveloped II
In Other Words
A timely suture
spares future.
Levels of Intricacy
There are three kinds in this world…
First, there are those who live simple, calm lives. They dress in subdued shades, can often be found in repose under shady trees, and if you listen carefully, you can hear them softly chanting peaceful mantras as they sway in the gentle spring breeze.
Then, there are those who are more flamboyant, more vibrant. Their lives are more complex and convoluted, but they like it that way. They like the limelight… er, sunlight, and while they remain — for the most part — rooted in reality, you will often find them just bobbing their heads in rhythm to a tune only they can hear.
And lastly, there are those “unique” characters who…
well… you know who I’m talking about.
Which kind are you?
Weekly Photo Challenge: Intricate
Pink
“Is he part Shar-Pei?” she asks. She hands my latte out the drive-through window. “All those wrinkles!”
Bella glares from the passenger seat, indignant at being mistaken for a male, let alone a Shar-Pei. Look at the pink collar, for Chrissake!
“No, she’s just a worrier, so her forehead wrinkles. Part boxer, part lab.” Part opportunist, waiting for me to set my drink in the cup holder between us.
A pink collar doesn’t necessarily indicate gender, I tell Bella as we drive away.
I know of a male dog named Pink. He’s black. He wears a pink collar. His owner, holding onto Pink’s pink leash, spoke of a prior pet dying of cancer. This is his tribute to the deceased pet. Pink doesn’t seem to care what color his collar and leash are. He’s comfortable in his masculinity. And he’s not a worrier like Bella.
I’m not going to worry either, I decide. I don’t want to get worry wrinkles on my forehead, lest someone mistakes me for a Shar-Pei and tries to collar me.
Bella is skeptical that that would ever happen. Her wrinkles unfold a bit as she stretches to lick the foam off the lid to my latte. You should worry, though, she tells me. After all, you think you’re conversing with a dog.
And next time? Ask for non-fat. My collar is getting a bit tight and I need to watch my figure.
Shar-Pei indeed!
Rain Falls
It’s two a.m. and the bars have evicted the last of the revelers. Rain falls onto the deserted street and rolls into the gutter. In a scant few hours, as passersby begin to stare, he will pick himself up and move on.
Poetry in Motion: Revenge Style
I don’t think he saw this coming:
What Rhymes with Stanza? 