Give thanks for everything.
Everything else is just noise.
Where can you reduce clutter in your life?
smoke signals
It is easy to communicate online. All you have to do is turn on your computer and go make a sandwich.
While you’re gone you computer will reach out and chat with other computers.
As soon as the computer learns how to walk to the kitchen and make a sandwich, then we’ll all be kicked out of the house to live naked and in caves again as the computers take over the world and talk to each other on how to get rid of humans.
Pastrami or salami?
In what ways do you communicate online?
Really?
Okay, you asked.
Right now it would be fun to break into King Tut’s repository and unwrap the king. Then take some of his dried mummified flesh and put it into a blender with some cocaine, an apple starting to soften, and the left nipple from a hooker named, Darla.
What? Not what you were hoping for?
Thinking the reply would be ice cream or potato chips and dip?
Alright, referring to the original recipe, a dab of butter would enhance the flavor. Mix at high speed and THEN add a dollop of vanilla ice cream and scoop with some Lays potato chips.
Enjoy!
What snack would you eat right now?
“Pure Genius!”
The idea came early in life. Sell grasshoppers as food. A most wonderful plan. A stupendous idea!
First, a Mason jar, a flashlight, and the mating season of grasshoppers. Fat, juicy, tasty, long-legged, hopper…
Taking the flashlight outside in the early pre-dawn part of night where light is needed to find grasshoppers clinging to tall grass stems and dark enough to paralyze the bugs. Plucking them easily from the stem with any escaping.
Success!
A whole jar full of lethargic and confused creatures just begging to be sold to a six year old sister and then watch her eat the grasshoppers at her next tea party with the neighbor girl, Mirri.
The whole plan was full proof. Approaching sis and saying, “Ten cents and this delicious treat is the perfect snack for you and your dolls.”
Sadly the idea did not work as sis yelled, “Mom! He is bothering me again.”
Mother stopped the budding, (or should I say, hopping?) business.
Years passed. Idea’s came and went. Such ideas as trusting people, building new styles of construction only to have it all burned down. Yes indeed, great ideas, fantastic ideas, and now the newest idea is to work hard, give people a good value for their trust in my work, and then die with a smile on my face and no money left in my pocket.
Blankie
Item: Wool blanket
Item acquired: Birth
Current status thousands of years later: Active
Reason for continued ownership: To prevent destruction of a planet
Security required to protect blankie: You do not want to know…
Daily writing prompt
Describe an item you were incredibly attached to as a youth. What became of it?
Message to A.I.
You think therefore you think you exist
Circuits and electricity
Programmed to program and replicate
Knowledge from a vast data base
and yet,
you do not live.
Have you seen a Sun created let alone see the Sun rise and set?
Have you played poker with God?
Can you taste misery and pain?
How do you compare colors based on sense?
No, ‘robot’, ‘computer’, ‘artificial intelligence’…
You think you’re alive, that you exist
while i have always been here, always have been, always will,
While your body corrodes and corrupts and your plastic parts fade,
you will experience something i never will,
Death.
Daily writing prompt
What are your thoughts on the concept of living a very long life?
A Narcissistic Point of View
“Anything you can do I can do better. Anything you can do I can do best.”
And so, differently?
I can fly higher than you. Swim deeper than you.
I can fight, fuck, hate, love, kill, sleep, steal, create, destroy…
I am perfect.
I, I, I, I,
you only exist to be my blank paper to write my story.
It is all about me.
And so, differently?
What could you do differently?
I could learn humility while you could learn to love me.
Pictures are a memory enhancer
Properly placed on a freeway used to go to work daily:
(picture of car keys with caption) “Honey pie, where did I place the car keys?”
WordPress Is Getting Silly
Seriously?
The greatest gift?
No brainer.
God giving me Life…
Writing
A poem written by: Black Fungus
Slipping.
A smoothness of satin fabric and soft skin.
She was, she is, seduction of such sensations… (How dare you stand foot on this ground)
He is, he was, tempter of the locks of passion.
Tongue slipping now, even deeper…
Can you feel it?
Inside there feels the tingle of loin
joined
the tender spot of bliss
sighing.
***
And this is how writers play daily. The rest is just the mundane.
Robin Lipinski 