Knocked Over By A Feather

But It Didn't Keep Me Down…



Perpetual Perky People

This was originally published on January 16th, 2013. It’s been slightly edited.


Perpetual Perky People, or PPP’s, can sugarcoat the biggest turds, until they taste like fucking ambrosia.

You could be struck deaf overnight and a PPP will gladly point out that you still have sight. Lost your leg to the gout? You still have the other one, so cheer up. Nothing gets them down, man.

They are the ones who run the drive thru in the mornings.

I’ve added some perkiness to your coffee, YOU’RE WELCOME!

PPP’s do not have a firm grip on reality. They never complain, bitch or swear. They hold in their frowns like gas after a meal at a Mexican Taqueria.

PPP’s will compliment you, even if you’ve just rolled out of bed and look like a goblin. You could stub your toe and they’d somehow find a way to make it a happy occasion.

Everything is sunshine and moonbeams, sprinkled with fairy dust for good measure.

To be perky occasionally is fine. Even I find myself feeling perkalicious now and again, although it’s an extremely rare occurrence.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate PPP’s. I’m a lover, not a fighter.

But, for the love of all that is shitty, please stop before I’m forced to put a flaming bag of my dogs poo on your porch.


Boneless Watermelon

You’ve not lived until you’ve had your watermelon deboned tableside in a fancy restaurant.


Postcard Stories: Ruby and Frank

This is from my mostly defunct retro blog that I started in 2013, so some of you guys may recognize it…


Ruby: Okay, hold still, Mr. Wiener, I’m going to start painting you now.

Frankfurter: Please, I insist that you call me Frankfurter, or Frank for short.

Ruby: Well, thank you so much for coming on such short notice, Frank. I was beside myself with having to find a replacement!

Frankfurter: How could I pass up the opportunity to be a work of art?! I’m honored.

Ruby: I’m so glad.

Frankfurter: Can you tell me who I’ll be working with today?

Ruby: When I’m finished painting you all sorts of groovy colors, you’ll be dancing with these lovely girls!


Meet Bubbles, Precious, Glory and Sunshine!

Frankfurter: Wow! Hello ladies!

(The girls all giggle at the suddenly longer and thicker frankfurter, then leave the room to go powder their nose.)

Ruby: Yes, an older gentleman requested four naked beautiful ladies, hiding behind a banner, with a wiener painted in psychedelic colors running around in front of them for his birthday party.

Frankfurter: Sounds like fun to me! I’m still young and firm, I’m still moist and juicy, baby!

Ruby: That’s what I like to hear! Okay, you’re all set!

And thanks again, if this works out, you may have yourself a regular gig.

Frankfurter: What happened to the last guy?

Ruby: I ate him.

Frankfurter: Oh.

Ruby: I’m just fucking with you, Frank!

Frankfurter: A ha!

Ruby: No, seriously. Look, I like you, so I’m gonna warn you and give you a fighting chance. Get out now before I put you inside my buns.

Frankfurter: But the paint?!

Ruby: Mustard, ketchup and relish.

Frankfurter: Help! I need somebody!!

Ruby: The last wiener wanted me to call him Frank, too.

And with that, Ruby took her first bite, savoring the taste.

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