Luigi DiAngelo, Marigold's Grandfather from "Emilio & Marigold"

 

Grocery Store of Broken Dreams

Roses and chocolates for the not-so-happy couple

When it comes to the law, they’re constantly in trouble

Black eyes, long cries, and cocaine covered nostrils

Only broken bones will be found in their fossils

A frozen pizza can feed a family of four

But not when the mother isn’t alive anymore

A single dad with gray hairs and noisy kids

He bottles his anger with the tightest lid

A bag of cheddar cheese sour cream potato chips

Is a fat man’s only friend when his self-esteem dips

He breathes like a windstorm, his T-shirt is damp

But life itself isn’t worth giving a single damn

A bottle of Advil in the hands of a grandma

Looks natural after the loss of the grandpa

A cell phone in her purse the size of a brick

But nobody calls, not even when she’s sick

A price gun in the hands of a check-out clerk

Will get a lot of mileage in this endless work

Take home a skinny paycheck, be a wreck

One dollar away from the homeless trek

Screenwriters, actors, and the bleeding hearts

Are part of this community that’s falling apart

It’s called the grocery store of broken dreams

It’s easier to fail and chow down on ice cream

How am I any different from my fellow shoppers?

I too have a cart full of frozen cheese poppers

I too was a dreamer once upon a long time

I too live in a town where stars never shine

I too have a stomach that stretches my shirt

I too have a mind full of trauma and hurt

I too have a heart that’ll never beat again

I too will never know if I’ll breathe again

I Don't Feel Victorious

VERSE 1

I did it, I lived through another day

But I don’t feel victorious

Bought a pizza with my monthly pay

But it didn’t taste glorious

Found my emotional charging cord

But I don’t feel like a hero man

Powered down, left to feel bored

My battery’s down to zero, man

CHORUS 1

Forged in fire, what the hell does that even mean?

Can’t be the brightest star that you have ever seen

Greatness is born from a life so torturous

And yet, through it all, I don’t feel victorious

Victorious

Victorious

I don’t feel victorious

VERSE 2

I covered more pages in precious ink

But I don’t feel like a storyteller

I washed all the dishes in my sink

But I still feel deader than Old Yeller

I vacuumed all the dust right off the floor

But I don’t feel like Employee of the Year

Life goes back to being just another bore

But I don’t feel like I belong here

CHORUS 2

Hustle Culture, what the hell is that all about?

Getting fired for having the slightest of self-doubt

And now the big boss man is busy sorting us

Now’s not the time where I feel victorious

Victorious

Victorious

I don’t feel victorious

BRIDGE

Conditioned to feel bad every day of our lives

For daring to exist or trying to just survive

We don’t have a whole lot, not even a nine to five

We don’t want to be dead, but we don’t want to be alive

CHORUS 3

Embrace the suck, what the hell are the layman’s terms?

Die fifteen hundred times and then lay with the worms

The graveyard needs bodies, now the undertaker’s hoarding us

None of us have any right to feel victorious

Victorious

Victorious

I don’t feel victorious

Victorious

Victorious

None of us feel…

Healed By Pizza

 VERSE 1

When good things from the garden won’t be enough

I leave it up to pizza to make my belly feel stuffed

Super-sized goodness oozing with Alfredo sauce

Buffalo drizzle to show depression who’s boss

Got some bacon bits, chicken, and pepperoni slices

Cheese-stuffed crust to round out my salty vices

One bite sends me into cardiovascular heaven

Eat the whole damn thing in five minutes or seven

CHORUS

Pizza, pizza, pizza, healed by pizza

A happy stomach equals a happy mind

Pizza, pizza, pizza, healed by pizza

Bad medical advice, but it seems to work fine

VERSE 2

And now the voices in my head can shut the fuck up

If only for a while, it beats having to toughen up

Who needs Body By Jake? I’ve got Body By Steak

Philly cheese pizza, give the vegan shit a break

Never once have I eaten a carrot like Bugs Bunny

And suddenly lit up like I’m just as fucking funny

As a cartoon legend who could never be equaled

I’m a sad ass motherfucker, not a Looney Tunes sequel

CHORUS

Pizza, pizza, pizza, healed by pizza

A happy stomach equals a happy mind

Pizza, pizza, pizza, healed by pizza

Bad medical advice, but it seems to work fine

VERSE 3

Something’s not right, because my chest feels tight

I might not make it through another cheat night

Going down the tunnel towards the heavenly light

And then…PTTTTHHHHHHHH!

I blew a hole in my seat with my own ass cannon

And then felt better about my reckless abandon

Only ones who suffered were the ones who smelled it

To be fair, it’s offensive even to the one who dealt it

EXTENDED CHORUS

Pizza, pizza, pizza, healed by pizza

A happy stomach equals a happy mind

Pizza, pizza, pizza, healed by pizza

Bad medical advice, but it seems to work fine

I play Dominos with my friend Little Caesar

We live in a Hut with pizzas in the freezer

Papa Murphy beats the piss out of Papa John

Until his vomit-worthy rhetoric is all long gone

Pizza, pizza, pizza

Pizza, pizza, pizza

Pizza, pizza, pizza

Healed by pizza!

Clown Music

CLOWN MUSIC
A ball on my nose, a smile on my face
Big red shoes stepping all over the place
Bright green overalls to complete the look
Comedy routines from a high school joke book
Who’s ready to laugh? Who’s ready to dance?
Who’s ready to wet their own underpants?
I’m throwing the pies, riding one-wheel bikes
We can party and giggle for as long as we’d like

COMING HOME
It’s getting pretty dark around the trailer park
Wipe off the makeup, frown the shape of an arc
A bottle of jack and some pills for my back
A pizza for dinner, another heart attack
Another episode of Wheel of Fortune
Another news story about the ban of abortion
Fall asleep on the couch, cancer stick in my mouth
I’ve got no rhyme or reason to be fucking proud

BACK TO WORK
Sunbeam aggravates my pounding headache
Still laying on the couch like I’m dead weight
Can’t put on another smile for the little brats
Can’t put on the overalls, I’m too damn fat
Can’t let them know that my magic is gone
No more faking happiness, no more being strong
Where did I put that damn nine millimeter?
I don’t care if you call me a coward or cheater

BANG!
Suicide attempt didn’t go as it was planned
But I’m still walking amongst the damned
Extra hole in my head, brain dead as can be
Little kids cry as they take a look at me
Mommies holding them, daddies glaring
The love is there, but nobody’s sharing
I am a monster in the eyes of the young
No cracking jokes, no birthday songs sung

Slip Away

***SLIP AWAY***

If you’re single and you’re agonizing about it, stay as far away as possible from “Slip Away” by David Arkenstone and Charlee Brooks. The melodic and gentle piano, the somber bagpipes, and Charlee Brooks’ gorgeous voice will all come together to open those floodgates you call tear ducts. I have to be honest with you guys: Valentine’s Day was depressing this year. I’ve pretty much given up on agonizing over my single status, but I was so depressed that day that I ordered a pizza and ate the whole thing. The next day was much better, but Valentine’s Day was just…bleh! “Slip Away” was one of the songs I made the mistake of listening to on that lonely day. Here are the lyrics:


VERSE 1
The seasons change
And age our temporary souls
Chasing fate
Along it's winding road
Flames burn bright and pass into smoke
But our love
Will dance among the stars
Down the streets of gold

PRE-CHORUS
I am bound to you
By more than what divides us

CHORUS
Slip away, slip away sweet lover
Into an endless stream
Slip away, slip away sweet lover
And you can rescue me
Close your eyes
And drift into a shining memory
I'll see you again where the sky touches the sea

VERSE 2
And with your love
You've painted vivid colors on my heart
Your light will always illuminate my dark

PRE-CHORUS
I am bound to you
By more than what divides us

CHORUS
Slip away, slip away sweet lover
Into an endless stream
Slip away, slip away sweet lover
And you can rescue me
Close your eyes
And drift into a shining memory
I'll see you again where the sky touches the sea

ABRIDGED VERSE 1
The seasons change
And age our temporary souls
Chasing fate
Along it's winding road


***WEEKLY SHORT STORY CONTESTS AND COMPANY***

For this week’s contest, the authors were given a list of quotes to choose from as their prompt. I chose mine and now I have a story to write. I’ve been needing an excuse to write “A Real Woman” for months now, especially after John Oliver did one of his monologues about transgender struggles.


CHARACTERS:

Jenny Andrews, Transgender Gym Student
Melissa Moore, Transphobic Bully
Jessica Sullivan, Kindred Spirit Gym Teacher
Random Female Gym Students

QUOTE OF CHOICE: "Behind every beautiful thing, there's some kind of pain." -Bob Dylan

SYNOPSIS: In the girls locker room at Richmond High School, a male-to-female transgender student named Jenny shows up to get changed into her workout clothes. She is confronted by Melissa, who believes she’s still a man and encourages other female students to gang up on her. A few cuts and bruises on Jenny’s body later, Miss Sullivan shows up to back everyone away and tend to the injured transsexual.


***DARK FANTASY WARRIORS***

Faye Blood’s drawing is now up and she is the second Dark Fantasy Warrior to be done with colored pencils. Up next, we’ve got another fierce fighting female: Jill Henderson, the racist mercenary from “Born to Die”. She was a giantess among insects, both in terms of physical stature and intimidating power.


***MOVIE DIALOGUE OF THE DAY***

RANDAL: Oh, what? What’s with you, man? You haven’t said anything for like twenty minutes! What the hell’s your problem?

DANTE: This life.

RANDAL: This life?

DANTE: Why do I have this life?

RANDAL: Have some chips, you’ll feel better.

DANTE: I’m stick in this pit working for less than a slave’s wages, I’m working on my day off, the goddamn steel shutters are closed, I smell like shoe polish, I have to deal with every backward ass fuck on the planet, my ex-girlfriend is catatonic after fucking a dead guy, and my present girlfriend has sucked thirty-six dicks.

RANDAL: Thirty-seven.

DANTE: My life’s in the shitter right now and if you don’t mind I’d like to stew a bit.

-Clerks-


***POST-SCRIPT***

Speaking of Clerks, does anybody here know if Kevin Smith is officially planning to make a third Clerks movie? The last time I heard, it’s going to feature a love triangle between Dante, Becky from the second movie, and Veronica from the first. I could be wrong.

High Winds of Death

***HIGH WINDS OF DEATH***

If you’ve been wondering what I’ve been up to the past two days, I can guarantee you that I didn’t go off the grid on purpose. I’m not like that father from the Little Caesar’s commercial who wants to live in the woods because ordering pizza online is “too frustrating”. All that heartache over a goddamn pizza. God, I hate commercialism.

The real reason I’ve been away from the internet is because in my home state of Washington, there were 25 MPH winds blowing southward. Trees were knocked over, houses have been destroyed, streets have been flooded, and many homes and businesses were without electricity, mine included. I went without electricity for a little over 24 hours. All I had to keep me entertained was my MP3 player and conversing with my 11-year-old niece Reina. I wanted to read my book, but without electricity, there’s no light to shine on the pages.

I probably shouldn’t be bitching and complaining too much, because my electricity eventually returned and I’m a happy man once more. I’m more worried about the people who no longer have stable homes and are trapped by the floods. It got so bad that Governor Jay Inslee declared a State of Emergency, which means National Guard members are going to assist those who’ve been displaced by this harsh weather. I can withstand 24 hours of boredom, but those less fortunate deserve your thoughts and love more than I do.

I’ve lived in Washington State from 1991-1993 and again from 1996 to the present day. The Pacific Northwest has always been known for its bipolar weather. It’s insufferably hot in the summertime and damned near devastating in the wintertime. Don’t get me wrong, Washington is still a beautiful place to live. But for all the times that Mother Nature gets even with us, it becomes more and more important to have a plan in case the electricity goes out, you’re stranded at home, or you don’t even have a home.

Even more than that, it’s important not to lose our humanity towards the less fortunate. If a family has been displaced by this kind of weather and is currently living on the streets, don’t shout at them for “taking handouts” and “not getting a job”. Show them your love. Give them hope. Even something as simple as a twenty dollar bill can make a difference in that family’s life. And one more thing: if you were displaced by bad weather, you’d want “handouts” too despite all of the pride you keep within you. If you had a choice between living in a low-cost apartment and having some disposable income along with food stamps over living on the streets and being closer to death, you’d choose the former every time. Admit it.

The weather already looks like it’s improving. I just went for a walk to the convenience store with the sun shining down on me. It was a little bit chilly, but there was sunshine nonetheless. But if I should go offline again, you now know why. No matter how many times Mother Nature strikes, I will always find a way to tell you guys I’m alive and well, even if it means going to a library or a hotel to use their computers. We’ve got ears, say cheers!

　

***CREATIVE PROJECTS***

Being offline has caused a little bit of a setback in my creative work, but that’s okay, because catching up is as easy as 1-2-3. I’ve declared today “reading day”, which means I’ll catch up on short stories submitted to the WSS and I’ll do another 30 pages of “A Street Cat Named Bob” by James Bowen. Tomorrow is Friday and will be declared “TV day”, where I’ll catch up on NCIS, NCIS: Los Angeles, NCIS: New Orleans, and WWE NXT. Wow, that’s a lot of initials. As far as “Zombie” goes, I’ll probably write it this coming Saturday since all of my catching up will be done by then. And then there’s the Dark Fantasy Warriors drawings. Next on deck is Danielle Reigns, the benevolent necromancer from the short story that used to be called “Conform”, but is now called “Dead Man Walking”. Wish me luck on catching up! There’s not a storm on earth that can stop the power of creativity!

　

***SKYPE DIALOGUE OF THE DAY***

ME: I’m sure it’s just a coincidence that the acronym for Occupy Wrestling is OW, which is what people say when they feel pain.

MARIE: Haha! If I catch a wrestler saying, “Ow!”, I’ll slap him across the face and say, “Man up!”

ME: Yeah, wrestlers mostly just scream in agonizing pain or say, “Shit!” After all, nobody gets wrapped up in the Walls of Jericho and says, “Please stop that, good sir.”

MARIE: Hahahaha! That’s true.

Home Alone

MOVIE TITLE: Home Alone
DIRECTOR: John Hughes
YEAR: 1990
GENRE: Christmas Comedy
RATING: PG for slapstick violence and mild language
GRADE: Pass


After being humiliated during a big family pizza dinner, all eight-year-old Kevin McAllister wants is to live by himself with nobody to take orders from. He’s scheduled to go on a trip to Paris with said family, but in the scuffle of trying not to miss their flight, they left little Kevin behind. He’s living large with his huge bowls of ice cream and R-rated movies, but when two burglars named Harry and Marv begin casing his neighborhood for houses to target, the McAllister house is on that list. While Kevin’s family is trying to book a flight back home, he sets up booby traps for the invading burglars.

Anybody who remembers watching this movie as a kid like I did knows the best part about it isn’t the love between family members or the magic of Christmas. It’s the creative traps Kevin sets for his burglar buddies. The screams of agony by both Marv and Harry are hilarious to listen to despite the horrific pain they go through. The traps include a blowtorch to Harry’s head, a nail through Marv’s bare foot, paint cans to both of their heads, and swinging on a zip line into the side of Kevin’s house. Oh yeah, and don’t forget the pet tarantula being placed on Marv’s face; that’ll give you non-PG nightmares.

The ingenuity of the individual traps is enough to satisfy the imagination and tickle the funny bone of any child watching this family classic. But what if you’re watching this movie as an adult? Does family love become that much more important to you? Do you cheer for Kevin’s family to come home on time to take care of their little guy? Do you have a special place in your heart for the bonding between Kevin and old man Marley?

Marley was rumored to have murdered his family and packed their bodies in the snow to create mummies. In reality, he was the sweetest guy anybody could ever know. He’s legitimately afraid of trying to get back together with his estranged son and granddaughter after a bad falling out. It’s Kevin who coaxes Marley into reconciling with the ones he loves and misses. Remember that episode of Seinfeld when George cries after watching Home Alone? “The old man got to me!” That will be any adult watching this movie if they have a sensitive heart.

And of course, whether you’re a kid or an adult, the one piece of stealth Kevin uses on intruders of all sorts is one you’ll definitely appreciate. He watches an R-rated movie and leaves it playing in the background so that the intruders will think there’s an adult home supervising Kevin. The Little Nero’s (which is an obvious parody of Little Caesar’s) pizza guy gets a surprise when he leaves the pizza at the doorstep and thinks he’s being shot at with a machinegun. Marv also gets surprised when he thinks two burglars are in the house ahead of him and Harry arguing over who gets the final score. In today’s world, we have technology where we can edit clips together to have those effects. But this was 1990, where technology wasn’t even close to where it is today. Kevin had to rely on his creativity and his brains to get the job done.

When Christmastime finally rolls around and you want some comedic nostalgia, look no further than the first Home Alone. You can laugh, love, and have your creativity ignited at the same time. Maybe if you’re a DM for Dungeons & Dragons, you can treat your fellow players to these kinds of traps. Although to be fair to reality, if anybody got their head burned with a blowtorch, they’d need immediate medical attention and to be locked in a burn ward. Kids, don’t try any of those traps at home; you will die!

Picklebee's Legacy

The word Picklebee has a lot of sentimental value to me, which is fucked up if you read the rest of this blog post. When I first introduced it to my bestie Susan and niece Reina as a nickname for our cat Smokey, the two of them were unanimously against it. They felt it was too creepy for a cute critter like Smokey. I thought to myself, “How could a cute word like Picklebee have any creepy connotations?”

I still wonder that to this day. Pickles is an actual pet name that’s been used before. Bees are cute and cuddly (whenever they’re not stinging you). Put them together and you have a loving nickname. Susan and Reina weren’t sold on it. So one day during a yard sale, I wrote “Picklebee” on the sidewalk with pink chalk, scaring the crap out of any customer who saw it.

With all of these people taking note of how scary a simple affectionate name could be, I figured I wasn’t going to win the cuteness battle, so I might as well roll with the creepiness of it all. When I first introduced the name Picklebee to the internet, it was in the form of a short horror story I wrote for Good Reads called “Picklebee, God of Death”. If you’re not scared shitless already, you will be when you learn that Picklebee was an indestructible demonic cat who slashed the shit out of anybody she deemed unworthy.

She turned a psychotic pizza delivery guy into her own personal slave and slashed the throats of the cop and landlord who tried to evict that same guy. There was blood everywhere, and that was just the decorations of the guy’s apartment before the fight took place. To put it in more relatable terms, “Picklebee, God of Death” was Pet Cemetery on crack. It was so violent that I constantly worried about disqualification from that week’s contest. I wasn’t disqualified. Instead I ended up in last place with zero votes.

That short story will see the light of day one way or another. But what about the other creative connotation I gave the name Picklebee? In the WWE, the divas division is all about good looks and bad wrestling. I’m honestly frightened at the idea of an NXT diva not being able to clean house in that division, especially considering how underrated Paige was on the main roster. And then my prayers were answered within the confines of my own imagination.

The ultimate unholy alliance of female martial artists, each member a present or future subject on Garrison’s Library. You’ve got the vengeful mixed-martial artist Rachel Gustafson, the pissed off referee Devon Spirit Wolf, and then there’s Picklebee, the name that should be given to Fallon Fox if she ever wants to transition from MMA to pro-wrestling.

An Amazon, an Indian, and a transsexual walk into a bar. It’s not the start of a bad joke; it’s the precursor to a dominant barroom brawl for all three of these women. If these three could keep a hospital full of bar patrons, imagine what kind of Armageddon they could put the WWE divas division through. Sorry, Natalya, but you too are going to be a victim of this onslaught.

If the name Picklebee can’t be cute and cuddly, it’s going to be disastrous and apocalyptic. She is the God of Death. The skies will rain blood. The oceans will be covered in green slime. The roads will be paved with powdered bones. The mountains will be kicked over. The forests will be burned to ashes. Those who survive will live their lives as the God of Death’s slaves. Whether she’s a cute kitty cat, a brutal mixed-martial artist, or Cthulu with a vagina, nobody is safe from this hellfire wrath. That is, unless you feed her Temptations kitty treats at 3:00 in the morning.

　

***PROVERB OF THE DAY***

Whatever you do to your children, your children will do to the world.

　

***BY THE WAY***

This will be the first of many posts detailing my socially awkward behavior. That’s going to be a brand new category alongside reviews and character profiles. Be afraid. Be really fucking afraid!