Laugh and the world laughs with you; cackle and watch’em scram.

My good friend and fellow blogger, Stella Bailey wrote this poem titled, “Tin Can Phone,” which inspired me to write…

She tried to
Drown her heart
In tears, a
Sea of love.

But she let
It float away
Into the mouth
Of her river.

Where he came
Along, and like
A wild salmon
Fertilized it again.

He stood on the deck, outside his dog door and looked over his vast domain. There, near the farthest corner, under the bare tree, stood a dangerous horde of leaves, gathered into a singular mound and planning their attack.

“They are preparing to over run us,” Sammo howled wildly.

Leaping from the wooden platform and leading from the front, he fell upon the pile of leaves, disrupting their war-counsel. He turned and zoomed from one corner of the yard to the next, covering ground in rapid time, before again hurling his body into the path of danger, crashing through the pile of leaves.

Needing to see the entire field of battle, Sammo quickly raced to his dog house, which doubled as his look-out to see how the fight was progressing. Much to his pleasure, it appeared it would be a smashing success.

He barked loudly to his imagine warriors, “I am Ragnar Ruff Ruff! Follow me.”

Once more, this time with thousands following, he bore through the pile, making certain none remained capable of attacking the wooden deck – or the Castle Keep as he loved to think of it. By the end of this day, he will have earned his dinner.

Let me be upfront – I’m pissed-off and I’m tire of explaining the how’s and why’s of my life simply because I did not do it the way you, you and you think it should’ve been done, especially since you, you, and you claim it’s never been done that way before. So let’s be finished with it:

First off, I’ve never existed. I wasn’t born in France and I never lived in Sacramento on Mather Air Force Base, nor had a brother named Adam, born there.

No, I didn’t move to Klamath and I wasn’t raised there. Neither of my sisters were born in Crescent City at Seaside Hospital. I didn’t go to Margaret Keating or St. Joe schools. And never have I attended a day at Del Norte High. Hell, I didn’t even graduate. Nor did I deliver newspapers, work at the Trees of Mystery or participate in track and field.

Again, I was never in the U.S. Air Force, the U.S. Marine Corps and had I been — I certainly would’ve never received an honorable discharge from either branch of service. And I’ve never worked in radio broadcasting, print media or written a story. I’ve never been married and I don’t have a grown son.

So, since you, you and you are always questioning me about this, that or the other thing, I hope I’ve answered your demands about how, in a satisfactory fashion. Finally, if this doesn’t meet your standards – if I don’t meet your standards – you, you and you can each kiss my fucking ass – because I don’t care what you think about how something in my life should’ve been done.

Hopefully, I’ve made myself somewhat transparent or at least as clear as the muddy water, you, you and you keep stirring up.

There’s a certain element of danger in forgetting more things than I originally knew.

“There are two schools of thought, about the flaying of a human for sexual gratification,” the retired medical examiner lectured, “But rather than bore you to death with definitions and such, I’d prefer to explain in simple terms how the criminal mind interacts with their victim.”

He paused for sip of water.

“In one case, the simpler case, the criminal mind sees the victim as nothing more than prey. Therefore, that mind will see the required ‘skinning’ as a task, generally done from the front of the human, much like one would begin with say a buck, cow or pig, completely removing the skin from the back of the animal”

He picked up a scalpel that lay on his desk.

“In the more profound case, the criminal mind views the human body as a piece of art and will begin from behind, removing the skin, in toto, from the front. The reasoning being that the front of the human body – especially the female body — at least for me,” he snickered, “is a masterpiece, a thing of beauty.”

He walked calmly across the room, smiling, “Can you guess of which criminal mind I am?”

She squirmed violently against the leather straps that bound her naked body face down on the dissection table as he drew the blade across her paling skin.

It’s bad when you have to get your back-up glasses to help find your primary glass which are still on your face.

Mom screamed and Dad held her as they watched the UFO blink out-of-sight. Both were in shock realizing nothing could be done.

Soon, sirens began to shriek across the Air Force Base; a notification of the otherworldly intruder, alerting personnel of the coming lockdown. By this time neighbors began to fill their backyards, some looking towards the darkening sky, others trying to comfort the distressed parents.

Talk was sparse — and what words could be heard — were so quietly whispered that they were nearly inaudible. Unaware of any trouble, Tommy crawled from Tippy’s doghouse and joined everyone examining the nighttime stars.

St. Patrick’s Day without corned beef and cabbage means room for a more traditional Irish meal of whiskey.

Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez: “Jump in — the Kool-Aid’s fine!”