Bilbo Bloggins

The dubious privilege of a freelance writer is he’s given the freedom to starve anywhere. - S.J. Perelman

Don't Ever Put Your Fork in My Plate!

So falls Wichita Falls, and falls, and falls, down long halls with stairs at the ends and stares with no end. The rabbit-hole is full, a cold-weather parrot and a northern ox make a paradox with socks, and these boots, once so cold with no feet in them to keep warm, are now warmed by bi-pedal company on a bike. Or maybe a trike? Possible a pod of whales in the night? What a sight for sore eyes that would bee wouldn’t it honey? Hive an idea, let’s embark upon a journey to the ends of the earth, we’ll peddle various forms of mind-lubricant and sale the seize as we sneeze new song ideas into Hank’s kerchief. ...

Juggernaught

Cluck, cluck went the chicken, ducking into the kitchen for a taste of some finger lickin’ tongues. Like the ones on those old work-boots sitting sadly by the door. Poor old Warren, he doesn’t work with rabbits any more, he sat down in the living-room one day after being let go and started watching tv shows and growing old...

Megalow-Maniac

It seems to me that almost every writer is somewhat of a megalomaniac, the definition of which, at it’s simplest, is: a pathological egotist. Although I have been aware of what a megalomaniac is for many a moon, and am assuredly guilty of being one to some extent...

Annabelle

In all years that they knew each other, not once was the subject of churning butter ever discussed. Not once. After he died, she often thought about this. She would sit alone on their favourite bench in the park, thinking about the things they used to...

Full Steam Ahead!

Sometimes I find myself stricken with what I’ve written. It’s an admission. And now I’ve put myself in a position of wishin’ I could be content just fishin’ for praise and compliments instead of having the confidence to raise hell on this mission of trying to sell word...

Oil-Patch Gas

Just because I wrote a book about falling down, that doesn’t mean that’s all I’ve ever done. I just sat down one day, started writing, and that’s what happened. But even in the midst of my many fall downs, plenty of individual experiences have helped...

If All We Had Was Happy

Skipping. Skipping along today. Under whatever skies float above whatever situations we create below. You know? The ones we make when we forget to remember that it’s alright to forget to remember a birthday. A day for mirth. Yay! It’s okay to age alone...

Way To Go, Ricky!

I swallowed hard. It had always been difficult for me. That’s the way it was. I was a hard swallower and I lived with that dark secret all of my life. The end. There are some things we should take to our graves I suppose, but I write many letters to elected officials,...

Aaaaaaargh!

Write a bunch of pretentious shit usin’ big werds cuz it makes it sound like you can talk smart. That’s what I did before the first line of this offering. And then I read it and was embarrassed by the fact I am not beyond occasionally writing like a phoney douchebag....

Upon a Gilded Chicken

Ice cream anyone? Didn’t think so. You needed a bumblebee to assist with the chores today didn’t you? It’s ok, I won’t tell. And your left shoe was snickering at the floor all day long. You know what that means? It means no flying for you, that’s what it means. I told...

Saviors of Nothing

In a scathing review of last week’s mismanagement of the release of ten hostages from an upscale, downtown penthouse, Donald Hasketh, lead editor for "The Coke Mirror", stated that a rabbid dingo would have handled the situation with more sensitivity...

Sorely Tested

How many parents ask their wee ‘uns what they want to be when they grow up and are devastated to learn their child wants to become a writer? Why? Why would you want to be one of those Junior? Be a plumber, or a janitor, or a felon, anything but a writer....

Unstoppable

Sometimes I feel like Kim Jong Il from that movie “Team America, World Police”, roaming alone around my head wondering why everybody is so fucking stupid. I never find a viable answer to satisfy the question. Not everybody is so fucking stupid I suppose...

Under the Gun

Apparently, In order to be a writer, you need to write. Damn! What a pain in the ass. Not that I dislike writing all that much, but getting started on something is often, for me, more difficult and even more time consuming than the writing done after thinking of...

Publish This!

The prevalence and popularity of self-publishing is on the rise and doesn’t look like it will be going away any time soon. Although it does open doors for many where there were previously only well-guarded portals before, are these doors that will be...

Screaming Demons

The smell of fear, excitement, fuel and smoke fills your nostrils and clouds your fevered mind, like a drug you can’t get enough of even though you know it will cripple or kill you if given the opportunity. Your breath comes in short, hurried gasps. Your heart hammers...

Dog Days

They were a long way from anything. He wanted desperately to believe that they would both make it to the truck and back to the city in time. Maybe the dog could be saved. Not a realistic hope and he knew it.The dog, who had been his best friend for twelve years...

A Night to Forget

Picture it. Sicily. 1922. A beautiful young peasant girl heads off to market to buy a loaf of bread and some fish for dinner. The sun warms the cobble streets. The sounds and smells of the oceanside village dance down the narrow lane, filling an innocent heart with...