She’s basking in the fake sun, reading fake news, and working on her fake tan.
She’s dreamy eyed, and tongue tied.
Wearing his favorite Space Cadet pajamas, he watches TV in his favorite chair, and mumbles away to himself.
Delusional thoughts, warped ideas, a mind full of fabrications and he believes, that whatever he says is the truth, when he damn well knows they are lies, bullshit, etc., etc….
Agnes, the goddess of children’s story telling.
Sam was in his glory, as the woman behind the counter, gave him a bag of day old muffins and doughnuts. She also filled his thermos with fresh brewed coffee.
Sam is homeless, and has no job. He forages in the dumpsters for returnable cans and bottles, which keeps him busy.
Now he is thankful for people like the woman that works at the local bakery. Sam sees the best the best in people, and that’s a good thing.
Walking down the street, there was a sign in the window, Opening Soon! A different kind of restaurant. The name: Bring Your Own Food And Drinks Restaurant. We prepare and cook it. No waiters, waitresses and bus boys. Plus, the patrons wash the plates, cutlery, etc. Cost of doing business, is negotiable.
The future of dining, has finally arrived.
Using the feather duster to sweep the floors. It’s going to be a while.
Fancy Fran and Dandy Dan met at a friend’s house. With in minutes, they fell in love. They immediately left for the airport, eloped, and took the first flight to Las Vegas, where they went to a chapel, and tied the knot. A quicky marriage that lasted one day. He went to the court house the very next day, was granted a divorce. When he awoke, he realized it was all a dream.
Not a good day, to deal with the village idiot. He is really, really out to lunch.
He spouts off so much bullshit, he has a shovel and bucket, to clean up his crap.
Flapping her lips. Not making sense.
She said, your hearing me, but not listening. He said, oh.
Made a fresh pot of coffee, and she never showed up.
He never does what the play book says to do. Just wings it, and hopes for the best out come.
Early in the evening, people of all walks of life, are giving the female dancer, thumbs up and clapping, while she does her routine, on a busy midtown street. She is thrilled that everybody appreciates what she does.
He’s happy. She’s smiling. All’s good.
He’s a firm believer, of tin foil hat conspiracies.
Riding the express train of thoughts.
Eyes like daggers, panties wadded up in a knot, he knows not to say a word.
As she was heading to the door, she hollered out “never again, never again, you ruthless shit bag.”
The compass is pointing him straight to the gates of hell.
Making a long story short. Done.
Walking onto a pile of shit.
Tick tock. Bing Bong. Wake up.
The wise man is uttering nonsense.
He’s a person with no morals.
Blustery winds doing a number with her freshly styled hair. It makes her like she was ready for a casting call, for a horror movie.
Her down time is spending 15 minutes a day, sitting naked on a large block of ice.
He said right.
She say write.
Fiddlin’ and diddlin’, all morning long.
The winds are blowing through, that sounds like a jet engine.
Come one, come all. Come as you are, to the annual funny freak parade.
Done in a day’s time. Yup!
Lose the attitude. It’s truly demeaning.
Please sit. We need to talk.
Flies swimming in bowl of soup.
He’s known as the orange menace.
Riding the train to crazy ville.
Running through the maze called life.
She’s humming the rainy day blues.
Wondering, rendering gut-wrenching thoughts, is doing a number on his psyche.
The streets have an eerie feeling.
Orange man doesn’t save the day.
A dyed-in-the-wool jackass.
He’s known as the number one, incorrigible asshole.
Sleep walking in a mid-town, trash filled alley.
Clairvoyant said, “The future looks bleak.”
All aboard the train of thoughts.
Now that you are gone
the chair at the table
will always be there,
if and when you
decide to come back.
He’s a loose cannon, extraordinaire. Yup!
Speaking the truth is beneath him.
His brain is in sleep mode.
Now boarding, the ship of fools.
Waiting for the train to nowhere.
She dreads writing her final paper.
Thinking logically is not his calling.
He is the master of manipulation.
A night owl on the prowl.
He’s known as the man with the ogling eyes.
He tells a story, using flashcards.
Preaching to the choir for harmony.
The green look on his face says, he had something to eat, that certainly did not agree with him. Hello bathroom.
The jury’s back. Not looking good.
Moaning and groaning is his calling.
She slept with the devil incarnate.
A nightmare on 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.
His breath wreaks of cheap booze.
His boat doesn’t sail on water.
Snake oil salesmen, awash in Washington.
He and she, will forever be.
Sitting in the shade, enjoying life.
Gazing at the white, puffy clouds.
Watching paint dry, could be exhilarating.
He’s never wrong.
So it goes.
He is the master of deceit.
So it goes. So it goes.
Whenever proven wrong, he won’t apologize.
She impressed him with her sensuality.
Free floating like a soaring eagle.
Buried the ax, all is forgiven.
He never socializes with his co-workers.
Spending quality time with no one.
Without warning, her coffee maker died.
He’s eating donuts, while skipping rope.
Truth and reality isn’t his forte.
She spends her evening, doing nothing.
She’s quiet as a church mouse.
He never liked being a conversationalist.
She talks like a babbling brook.
Naked jaywalking during a snow storm.
She’s on the balcony, star gazing.
She’s known as the naked poet.
Her smile shows her pearly whites.
Her eyes are gleaming with love.
He water skis on the snow.
Its all good, said the barber.
Checking the couch for lost coins.
He’s hiding behind the eight ball.
On the hill, staring into space.