Leon slammed the spade’s blade into the dirt cellar floor. “Hack my Facebook account will she? Bitch! No wonder Dad ran off with the babysitter-slash-cheerleader when I was ten.”
There…they’re…their…thar…the hair…the rare air…
"Sorry, Mom, your language skills are insufficient for me to warrant keeping you as a friend. Good-bye. See you for supper on Sunday?" .
The Cynglish Beat: Words to Giggle By
Episcopalian spelunking masticate transmogrify
Shooting For Success: Unique Self-Portraits
So, don't be afraid to take your own picture but please, stop holding the damned camera over your head and snapping your forehead.
The Cynglish Beat: No Solitude in the Ether, Either
She found her way to Facebook, All confused innocence and cautious half-smiles. Her friends suggested it, recommended it, put forth the idea.
The Cynglish Beat: Singled Out
Next thing I know I’m on a blind date with a deaf girl sitting in a movie theatre, in the dark, where she can’t hear my words and can’t see my signs, so we hold hands in silence and we both wonder how we wandered this far from the Sylvan Plath.
The Tao of Tim 