Honestly_To Be, Or Not to be_Thanksgiving Catenation_Cannabis and Kibble
Catalog Guide:
Honestly
“O Woman That I Used To Love, what should we get for dinner tonight?’’“Honestly, my Greatest Disappointment? I don’t care.”“You do care. You want me to suggest a place to eat so you can shoot it down. Whatever I say, you will wrinkle your little nose like I decided that we should eat out of the cat’s litter box.”“You could not be more wrong, but you usually are.” “Perhaps you could stop on the way home and pick up some takeout.”“I could, but I won’t. Our nightly conversation about dinner is the only authentic communication we will have all day, so I’m going to stretch it out as long as possibl...
To Be, Or Not to be
“You can’t stay here. They are going to eradicate all life on this island. Something to do with contagious viruses being released under the sea. Contamination has been discovered on the other side of the island. I don’t know anwww.onedoor.ccy more about it than that, they didn’t tell us much. But Dad, they said to come and help you get resettled. You need to leave. We need to leave, now.” “I’d rather not.” “It is not a matter of whether or not you want to leave, it is a matter of having to leave. The World Health Organization has determined that whatever has invaded this island has the potential to spread ...
Thanksgiving Catenation
My left arm is sore as I pass the collection plate, because Phil playfully slugged me again… because I look like my sister.Technically, she looks like me – I’m older – though we don’t resemble as much as we did when we were younger. Back then, we were often assumed to be twins. At my mother’s church these days, though, we are rarely seen together, and so at my annual Thanksgiving visit, I often get mistaken for her, since she’s a four-times-per-year “regular.”She and Phil must have a special relationship, and he must have vision issues, because this is the fourth year in a row he has done that...
Cannabis and Kibble
A typical morning. Bird song. The pleasant twitters, trills, and chirping of tender avian species hidden in foliage. The orchestrated honking of fat, loose-bowelled geese. The quacking of mouth-watering, randy mallards. Nippy temperatures that introduce the day. Not much to do. Expectations of a morning meal. Pain. Gut-wrenching, body-convulsing, dog day pain. What time are you getting out of bed, compassionate master? You’re tired? You stayed up late, my inept slave? Late last night, Servant Jeremy was silent, but his fingers clic...