Briefly…

I know Leeroy, I know – you hate me now, and maybe you’ve even forgotten who in the hell I am, as it’s been so long since I played along. Look, things have been a little weird lately, OK?

And speaking of weird, when someone as delightful and awesome as Jen picks something as delightfully weird as The Flaming Lips for the prompt, how can I NOT throw in my dime this time?

So, here’s my head-full-of-fluff-and-other-things take on this week’s 100 Word Song...

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Like Godzilla triumphant, with each blow either he became weaker, or she became stronger.

None too sure which was truer, it was a fact that his barbed-wire lips had dulled to the point where the words that escaped them now simply tugged on her soul, versus ripping it to pained shreds.

Odd how it occurred… the realization that the one who wrote the script, set the scene and assigned the marks, could no longer control all the actors upon the stage.

Like Yoshimi victorious, she rose to the challenge, and in the final scene, found that she’d held the day.

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This is dedicated to my dear sister Renee. Another Yoshimi, who likewise is poised to in short order, arise victorious.

Leonard Nimoy Gets Laid…

Listen, love ain’t free. You and I both know it, so let’s stop beating round that sad old bush and face the facts, OK?

Even when you wistfully think, “hey, no strings attached,” you just know that you’re lying to yourself. There’s ALWAYS strings attached. If not in heart, then at the very least, in purse…

And sometimes in heart as well, sometimes even a heart filled with disappointment…

But for the masses, disappointment is a worn-out old suit. Ill-fitting, uncomfortable and an embarrassment. Especially when the purse beckons towards instant gratification, especially when disappointment can simply be turned into a jaunty lil’ jingle to help celebrate the sin…

And speaking of jingles, are there any better than the one where instant attraction leads to instant fireworks? And instant fireworks leads to rings being exchanged? And rings being exchanged leads to some sort of happiness ever-after? But most often, only after those rings have lost their shimmer, going off on their merry pawn shopping way…?

But that’s just it – a blessed few get to realize their happiness ever-after, and the rest of us are simply relegated to dealing with the truth of the matter (most usually, only long after our purses have been drained of cash and fight) that eventually everyone has to pay, even Nimoy…

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So Jen told us this week’s Twisted Mix-Tape Tuesday prompt was “No Strings Attached,” and I instantly gravitated towards prostitution. None too sure why, but I feel that Anita said it best, when she cooed that she had been through the “mill of love,” only to find every type but True. And maybe that in itself is the truth of the matter. I mean, at least when dealing with General Hooker’s women, you know that you’ll be broke by the end.

Oh, and speaking of Hooker’s women, here’s your bonus track for this week – I hope that you enjoy =)

Asleep.

To say I’m becoming obsessed with the Flash In The Pan word prompts is just a touch of an understatement. In addition to the word limit placed upon us by Red, I am also enjoying – well, “enjoying” is most likely not the right word to be used here – the mandate I placed upon myself with these prompts; that being to address topics that I would normally not feel comfortable in doing so with. Crawling much deeper down the well than intended with the prompt of “Come,” as always, I welcome your feedback and constructive criticism…

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Anyway, it’ll be good seeing dad again.

At least I hope too.

Pretty painless, these pills. Still… Didn’t realize they’d make my hand melt like that.

They just sorta walked off, ya know? All of ‘em. Abandoned me. Didn’t need me anymore.

I don’t need me anymore.

I don’t need…

So tired. Tired of being alone, a postscript,

a lie.

Time to go home.

Nice to go home… Or’s it “come home?”

What’s home?

Crap… Slidin’ outta view, everything. Blurring. Coming soon, “The End.” Hehe…

Christ.

Why did I?

Oh damn. Now my whole arm’s melting…

You there dad?

Daddy?

•••

Welcome to “Flash in the Pan”

“Flash in the Pan”

To those of you who read Friday’s post, this is an unintentional “book end” to the daddy motif I started there. As ma is still alive, I was concerned that by using a parent of the “fairer” sex as my character’s sought out post-life guide, I might miss out on some of the emotion I was hoping to evoke with this piece. Then again, should I have failed at even that, I suppose I could always just wrap this whole thing up with a depressing Smiths song as well…

Ela’s Play

I originally wrote the following in response to my dear Ela’s weekly 100 Word photo prompt “PLAY” challenge. I then decided I liked it enough to share with you here as well. 

Please take some time to visit her site, where you will find intellect, soul, wit, and playful word-weaving that becomes even more impressive when you realize that English is her second (or maybe even third or fourth – the girl is insanely intelligent) language. As always, I hope you enjoy.

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Daddy…

Why are you shouting so loud daddy?

Mommy’s not deaf, she can hear you, daddy.

Why do you yell at her so, daddy?

Why don’t you stop, and maybe rest awhile daddy?

She didn’t mean what she said daddy.

I’m sure she never wanted to hurt you daddy.

I KNOW she didn’t mean it, daddy, I just do.

I’m sure she still loves you best daddy.

I’m sure she’s only “kissing friends” with him, daddy.

I’m sure she will want you back, one day daddy.

Where are you going daddy?

Can I come too, daddy?

Can I daddy?

Daddy…?

•••

Now to be fair, today’s song did NOT come to mind until well after I had written these 100 words. That being said, I will STIIL be willing to shamelessly make use of it here and now… 

Judy & Friends

The second-most virtuous man I know is going through a pretty intricate operation today. Please keep him and the most virtuous man I know, his husband, in your thoughts and prayers. Thanks, and this post is dedicated to them…

Sinatra did it.

Streisand did it.

Bennett did it.

Hell, Martin and Cole did it, years after they were already pushing up booze-soaked daisies.

But the Mother of all dueting, the forevermore Queen of all that the duet sun shines itself upon, was one Ms. Judy Garland. A consummate professional, she was confident in her talent enough, as to not throw under the bus whatever musical tit-for tatter happened to be working with her at the time. A lesson that one of her co-stars embraced. Another consummate professional in his own right, maybe you’ve heard of him before, and maybe it was here that you did…

To be sure, Mr. Darin was no stranger to the art of duet either, a talent that shown through never brighter, than when he cajoled a little-known lyricist (and founder of Capitol Records) into doing an entire album with him – one produced for Capitol’s competitor no less, the ATCO Records label…

Now if Judy ever sang with Mercer, I don’t know, but I do know she eventually nailed both Sinatra and Martin – in a one-two punch that left them reeling…

Speaking of duets, unbeknownst to most, Sinatra and Martin weren’t actually opposed to working together, and on very rare occasion, these two would lock horns (of the musical variety, of course), even if Garland wasn’t able to come out and play…

Hell, they were even known to on even rarer occasion “Pack” it in with Sammy in tow…

But it will still be Judy who ends the day (not to mention this post), with her ability to pick ’em, work with ’em, and make everyone a winner in the process. Even when the artist chosen had everything to gain, more the still when compared to Ms. Garland’s absolute nothing to lose…

Oh, and for all of you Twisted Mix-Tape Tuesdayers who thought about this bonus ditty the VERY SECOND you heard Sinatra’s name today; I want you to know that, 1) you are waaaaay old and, 2) it was the first thing I thought of as well… enjoy!

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PS: I decided that since any of the “relevant” duets I could have come up with (Queen/Bowie, Fine Young Cannibals/Somerville, Public Enemy/Anthrax, Strummer/Cash, Pogues/Maccoll,  Reznor/Murphy) would most likely already be addressed by other, more capable Tuesdayers, it left me the room to actually drop my music snobbery for a spell, and play around with this prompt instead. I hope you dug this momentary diversion into what – I fear – will soon to be a forgotten entertainment treasure, and I hope you do your part to help us remember a world wherein talent was what drove the industry we so love.

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