Weekly Photo Challenge: Street Life | 2

True Value Hardware and Drugs
True Value Hardware and Drugs

It’s a terrible dilemna – surely you can see that.

Do I go in and get the 16p nails I need first, then step over and get my Valium refill? Or, do I get the Valium first, pop a few, go grab an ice-cold Co-Coler and sit down to chat for a while with Mr. McLeskey or Mr. Todd. Never know, the hippophile in us might come out and we can talk about my old bay mare until the Valium kicks in. Then I can saunter off and wander around the store and get those 16p nails, some charcoal, a magnet, an old cardboard box if the have it, 3 feet of twine and a tin of snuff. I got thirty bucks so that should be enough to pay for it all.

It surely is a dilemna.

A little made up tale for my second submission to the “Weekly Photo Challenge: Street Life.”

I don’t know if this place is still open, but when I took this picture it was.

“Things are different today,”
I hear ev’ry mother say
Mother needs something today to calm her down
And though she’s not really ill
There’s a little yellow pill
She goes running for the shelter of her mother’s little helper
And it helps her on her way, gets her through her busy day. ~From “Mother’s Little Helper” by The Rolling Stones

The Silver Screen

If I’m not mistaken, this is my first attempt at a “Reblog.” I hope it works because you really should read this. Great stuff.

The Riparian Times

The elusive first step to fame begins with a lonely gentle breeze down Hollywood Boulevard. I am on my third audition today and my head is slightly giddy like a teenage girl on passion-pops. I cannot remember the last time I ate, maybe yesterday, yesterday feels like a nosebleed but that audition, I smashed it, I was amazing.

Yes, it is upon us again like a summer romance, ‘Pilot Season.’

The two words that sends fear and excitement into the bones of actors all around the globe. The Los Angeles freeways become a sea of hope as the actors are magnetized into the bosom of the beast.

Do you remember that film Pulp Fiction, yes that’s right the one where Uma Thurman stars in a Pilot called Fox Force 5?

Here, watch Samuel L. Jackson (not Laurence Fishburne) watch Samuel tell you how Pilot Season works, well not exactly but…

View original post 356 more words

So, Let’s Chat, You and Me

Rich After Pain Injections
Me After Pain Injections

Caution. If you can’t tell at first glance, this is a somewhat lengthy post. I am motivated and inspired and on a writing roll. Are you on a reading roll?

I take for granted that in the far-flung world of WordPress bloggers, readers, techno-gurus, sophistocrats, hangers-up, hangers-on, Automagicians, and oh so smart Mullengroupies, I am somewhat revered and respected. You could say I rank with the most venerable of world wide WordPressers. I am over thirty, my hairline, and hair are fast disappearing, and over my long life I have acquired the “wisdom of the ages.” I’m bonafide and qualified.

The preceding paragraph was brought to you by the word venerable, the Dictionary.com word of the day. The next time you’re out and about, pick up a copy of Venus, the venerable grizzled old man’s guide to gentlemen’s literature. See, I used the word of the day again – that makes three times. My new goal is to use the word of the day at least once in every post I write.

Today is a landmark day in the world history of me. I finally started my “Great American Novel.” It’ll be good; very, very good. I can make stuff up that some people find interesting or entertaining. I know I can create stories for short periods of time, but I’m not entirely convinced I can sustain it long enough to create a book.

The book tells the story of Frank – a sorta-semi-auto-biopornagrapical collection of diary entries. If the jumbled up, made up word I just created amuses you, Great! If it doesn’t, Great! Playing with words is an addiction – it’s my high. It’s my morphine, Jean. It started around 1984. I attended a writer’s workshop presented by the University of Maryland University College at Kadena Air Base in Okinawa, Japan. A couple of sessions concerned studying and writing creative non-fiction. This was my first introduction to the seductive opium that is Tom Wolfe. At first, it was just experimenting, then recreational, then I was hooked.

I might start publishing short excerpts here on my blog – kinda online auditioning to get some reader feedback.

So I lied. It really isn’t very long. When I started though, I intended to include some other stuff that didn’t make the final cut.

Pain is strange. A cat killing a bird, a car accident, a fire…. Pain arrives, BANG, and there it is, it sits on you. It’s real. And to anybody watching, you look foolish. Like you’ve suddenly become an idiot. There’s no cure for it unless you know somebody who understands how you feel, and knows how to help. ~Charles Bukowski