Rarely through my life if you’d asked me the names of the seven dwarves could I have listed them in their entirety. I can now. They live in my brain. They don’t pay rent but they certainly eat the food and use far too much internet time.

There’s Sleepy…he pops in at about 4 am and yawns in my ear. Considering the contagious nature of yawns (see, you’re going to yawn now) I of course get really sleepy and head to bed. He gets his internet time.

There’s Grumpy….he’s the morning guy. He makes my coffee in hopes I’ll get grouchier from the caffeine. Not. I just let him grump as I do my ritual waking up.

Dopey….well he’s part of the morning ritual too. My occasionally odd methods of waking often get Dopey’s juices going and he writes with an almost out of body type demeanor. Weird. But good writing.

Doc is the one who pushes his way to the keyboard when I have work of an herbal nature. He likes to slip his thumbs in his belt loops and swagger while telling me all about the plants of the forest and field. Back to Sleepy, begging him to make me yawn to throw Doc the hint.

Sneezy is just plain annoying.

Bashful peeks out when I have to write a autobio or a promotional piece on my work. I hate doing these tasks. I’m not good at talking myself up and my mate gets terribly perturbed.

Happy emerges infrequently. I’m a rarely happy person on a regular basis. I ldo ove to laugh. The more I fill my day with this, the better day I have.

Have you ever noticed though, that some people really do NOT want to laugh? What, short of an abdominal incision, could make them not want to? What feels better? (the great sex answer is appropriate here)

I don’t want to deal with people who would rather go about their lives with the seriousness of the inquisition. No sirry bob…not me. I have little time for someone who would rather bring the world down than crack a smile. Here’s the lip-balm, here’s a clue and here’s your sign.

They don’t want life….they want a government job in a dusty basement office where they can make the centipedes miserable. More power to them. I’ll help them fill out the ap.

Life is too short. Yes, I know. An old cliche ….but totally one of those “BIG TRUTHS”!
In the history of our planet, our lifetimes are but a gas bubble in a bathtub. We are released onto the planet, we drift slowly upward (through wisdom) and cause a stink at the end of our journey to the surface. But, that stink means we’ve cleansed for the next go-round.

Me? I’m still half way between the butt and the stars. I’ll let you know how the journey’s going from time to time.


Greetings, confusoid. You scored a…
46%

Is it a bird? A plane? Is it a boy? A girl? Is it love, or is it lust? Ah, you. You are that rare mix of sensitive and sensual, romantic and randy, pride and prejudice, etc. When you see your crush, you waffle like a Belgian, unsure of whether you’d rather paint their toes or suck on their toes. Poets have long been puzzled by your kind. You’ll never fall for robots or nymphos, but you will suffer longs bouts of marriage.

cows in art class
good weather
is like
good women-
it doesn’t always happen
and when it does
it doesn’t
always last.

man is
more stable:if he’s bad
there’s more chance
he’ll stay that way,
or if he’s good
he might hang on,
but a womanis changed
by
children
age
diet
conversation
sex
the moon
the absence
or presence
of sun
or good times.
a woman must be nursed
into subsistence
by love
where a man can become
stronger
by being hated.

I am drinking tonight
and I remember the cows
I once painted in Art class
and they looked good
they looked better than anything
in here.

I am drinking tonight
wondering which to love and which
to hate,
but the rules are gone:
I love and hate only
myself-
they stand outside me
like an orange dropped from the table
and rolling away; it’s what I’ve got to
decide:kill myself or
love myself?
which is the treason?
where’s the information
coming from?

books…like broken glass:
I wouldn’t wipe my ass with ’em
yet, it’s getting
darker, see?
(we drink here and speak to
each other and
seem knowing.)
buy the cow with the biggest
tits
buy the cow with the biggest
rump.

present arms.
the bartender slides me a whiskey
it runs down the bar
like an Olympic sprinter
and the pair of pliers that is my hand
stops it, lifts it,
golden piss of dull temptation,
I drink and
stand there
the weather bad for cows
but my brush is ready
to stroke up
the green grass
straw eye

sadness takes me all over
and I drink the beer straight down
order another shot
fast
to give me the guts and the love to
go
on.





I am the undyingly dead ByrdTri!

Find your whimsy character
at kelly.moranweb.com.

You are The Three: the Celestial Angel, Goatcheese Maiden, and Princess Mustardseed. You’re just a composition of the most brilliant (and idiotic) trio ever. And you die a lot.

Niche: You belong in the forest ecosystem! Not really, actually. You’re a fundamental part of Ach Mein Gott (a newsletter) and were our seal for Books (interesting pieces of folded paper with advice and stories on them). You served us well on paper but couldn’t survive for long enough periods to be planted in the ground or sky.

Upbringing: You were born in eighth grade, forever long ago. I think you formed a covalent bond between three folks at the institude and were strong, until, like, you died. A lot.

Aspirations: You want to be together again. As it seems, you’re only a ByrdDuo. Que triste!

Quirks: You don’t have any, really, because you don’t much exist. Tambien que triste.





I’m exceptionally artistic!

Find your soul type
at kelly.moranweb.com.

Fair enough. Perhaps they haven’t. But now that you know, you must become one with your inner self.

Virtues: You look for immense creativity and individuality in people, including yourself. You’re not happy with anything less than brilliant, and you focus on being expressive. You value energy, liveliness, and upbeat personalities, but you’re not supportive of moodiness when you yourself can be unreliably moody. Seeking activity, you like the bustle of business but need the secluded atmosphere of a studio or private corner.

Aspirations: You feel the need to express your talents, whether it be through writing, drawing, singing, dancing, composing, performing, or photographing. While you strive to ever improve your work, you want to display it as soon as possible when your impatience kicks in. You want to be a prodigy but you might not have the means right at your fingertips. Trust me, do NOT move to New York to do it. Yeesh!

Quirks: Conformists bother you because of their lack of individuality. You’re often late or unreliable. You’re showy and refuse to share the spotlight. You only tell little white lies. You worm your way into the hearts of others, but be careful; some people despise the show-offs.

Factors: Surround yourself with activity and you’ll always have material to work with. Involve friends and family in your projects so they don’t feel like envious outsiders.

Future: Show business or not, you’ll settle down happily if you’re among those who appreciate your natural talents and desire to perform. Don’t stay in one place too long, and don’t be too hasty in defining your relationships. Who are you to judge what only time will tell?

Ten clues, ten famous people to identify. It really couldn’t be easier, so away you go. Good luck, and have fun.

1. Iraqi statesman, born 1937, who has survived at least 12 assassination attempts.

2. American actress, born 1934, sister of Warren Beatty, she starred in the films “The Apartment” and “Sweet Charity”.

3. Writer, born 1949, author of “The Rachel Papers”, “London Fields” and “Experience”.

4. British QC, born 1954, wife of a famous politician.

5. British film director, 1899-1980, his films include “The 39 Steps” and “The Lady Vanishes”.

6. American poet, 1932-1963, her only novel was “The Bell Jar”.

7. Orchestral conductor, born 1955, knighted in 1994, made his name with the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra.

8. Deaf and blind American writer, 1880-1968, who refused to be discouraged by her disabilities.

9. Born 1944, Indian prime minister from 1984 to 1989, grandson of Nehru, assassinated at an election rally in 1991.

10. Lighthouse keeper’s daughter, 1815-1842, famous for rescuing people from a shipwrecked steamer off the northeast
coast of England (she sounds lovable).

(I’ll post answers in a while in the response thread)