The driver drove East of Eden and West of the Mississippi - North to Alaska and South of the border. Round and Round in a semi-circle of confusion, spinning the wheels of his teal colored Cadillac: or is it mint green? Light tourquoise? Colors can be so visual, especially if one is color blind. As a reader, imagine in your mind what color you want the Cadillac to be. Exciting, isn't it? Still spinning in a continous spin, the driver's mind moves left and then right. To the left he's a man. To the right he's a woman, and I realize as I write this the driver might just be a transgender or a drag queen. I chose drag queen. Drag queens are so much more fun and I'm guessing gay, but that's neither here nor there. I don't give a flying fu_ _ . Speaking of which, what exactly is a flying fu_ _? I consider myself well-versed and uninhibited in the art of having sex but never have I flown while doing so. Does flying fu_ _ have something to do with the 'mile high' club? Life can be so confusing. Anyway as our driver drives he still thinks, "Should I wear kahkis and a pink tee or sequins and huge wind-blown looking hair? This is torment. He's tortured. The man slash drag queen pulls to the side of the highway and shuts off the engine. His name is Conrad Bangor. Gay friends call him Banger, and drag friends call him Connie Cox. He is both. And he is confused. But he is also hungry so he grabs a sandwich from a Cher ice cooler his lover, Jonathan Beaver, packed for him...a ultra thinly sliced turkey on pumpernickle spread with an even thinner spread of MW resting between a curtain of alfalfa sprouts sans the slice of avocado that tends to put weight on the boy. "Could I be more in love?" Conrad asks himself as he nibbles. But is he in love with Beaver's (his pet name) sandwiches or Beaver's beaver or mangina if you will? Personally I wouldn't chose the mangina. What exactly could you do with it except admire it? It has no function. There's no oriface and the duct tape would totally put the whole thing in a sticky situation, if you know what I mean. Sticky or not, the driver finishes the last of his sandwich, turns on the engine and drives on. Just where is he going? I'm not sure, but I should be sure. I am after all the writer. I'm confused.
Baxter's Unusual Talent
First of all let me start off by saying, "there ARE dumb questions." It's a matter of who's asking. My friend Jackie told me to start my own blog. She says it's because she knows I write and would have good stories to tell. Personally I think it's because I'm full of shit. People who are full of shit are good at playing the game, Balderdash. Anyway, a little bit a bout me. I'm married and live in Arizona with my husband and 3 dogs; 2 Wiener dogs and a Chihuahua mix. Before we got the Chihuahua we had 3 wiener dogs, so I used to tell everyone I live with 4 wieners. My husband's name is Frank. How ironic or phallic is that? All my dogs are male. Now that we have the Chihuahua I tell everyone I live with 3 wieners and a chili pepper. Chili peppers in a way remind me of doggy dicks so in a sense I still live with 4 wieners. Those who know me, know that I'm nuts about my dogs. Yes. I am a nutty dog lady. And I can safely state that ...
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