God is the Ultimate Rule Breaker

Day 29 Prompt: “Breaking the rules.” One more day left of 30 Days of Writing, hosted by Nicky and Mike at We Work for Cheese.  Please stop by the We Work for Cheese Emporium to link up or read other inmate posts. We’re all crazy, you know.

Cheese Plate with Sriracha

Cheese Plate with Sriracha (Photo credit: Refracted Moments™)

On the 29th day, God appeared to me from atop the computer monitor.

“Breaking rules is like breaking wind,” he said. “It happens suddenly then lingers until you clear the air.”

“Thanks for the public service announcement.” I replied. “Now, please move. Your beard is covering the screen, and I can’t read my emails.”

It was unfortunate he reacted like a drama queen.

My monitor rattled from his hissy fit, while his eyes exploded with hell fire. “Never fuck with God,” he bellowed, and then was gone in a puff of gas.”

As I choked and hacked on the heavenly fumes, his voice echoed in the sky. “Remember,” he said. “I created Limburger cheese.”

Getup Get God

Getup Get God (Photo credit: prettywar-stl)

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Roast or Toast Another Blogger, Figuratively Speaking

On day 24, I’m forgoing the funny for a drizzle of sap.

Glasses of champagne await use to toast the ar...

Glasses of champagne await use to toast the arrival of my grandmother in her new apartment. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I’d like to thank Nicky and Mike @ We Work for Cheese for hosting the 30-day blogging challenge.

I jumped in on day 17 and this morning, on day 24, I had a blogging epiphany.

Blogging is nothing like writing and all about relationships. Writing is secondary.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s essential to produce great content to draw in readers, but personal connections build community and that’s the key to happiness and enjoying life online.

Several months ago, I stopped visiting many of my favorite blogs, a victim of information overload.

Having poor time management skills didn’t help, thanks to one of the deficits of being ADD.  Add to the mix that I was working on a memoir, which I finished but am still revising, and kaboom! Blog meltdown. Perhaps, some of you saw the mushroom cloud.

I don’t want to lose what I’ve gained over the past seven plus days and will try to stick to a schedule going forward. Good luck with that!

The 30-Day Challenge helped me realize that blogging is nothing like writing and all about connecting with like-minded people, that cranking out well-crafted pieces is in itself a skill.

The Challenge has reignited my passion for blogging and reintroduced me to the blogging world. It has taught me that there’s room for both blogging and writing in my life and showed me that I could, indeed, publish a post a day, so far anyway.

There was that one repost the other day.

Most importantly, it reminded me how special it is to be part of an incredible community of bloggers. There are no words to express the feeling you get when you connect with people online.

Thank you, Nicky and Mike.

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Going Solo on a Writing Riff


Improvised post for 30 Days of Writing – #20 – Going Solo.

Logo for the program 30 Days Category:Televisi...

Logo for the program 30 Days Category:Television program logos (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Jumping in with both hands in an attempt to freestyle keyboard.

This is your last chance to bail before I end up at the bottom of the page.

And by the way, I’m going solo to the opera ward of the psychiatric hospital for shrieking vocalists.

Hopefully, someone will cure me of my problem to sing off-key. I’ve been banned from singing at parties.

I won’t tell you about the time they put out an APB on me from singing in the shower. Now, I just move my lips and pretend to make a sound. It’s better that way.

But my musical deficiency doesn’t stop at the vocal chords.

I’ve also got a percussion problem. I can’t chew gum while playing the bongos.

I don’t even have a set of bongos. But if I did and were to pound the skins, I would have to remove the gum beforehand. However, a foot would be better.

A gum smack flusters my cadence and knocks my palms off kilter. Luckily, I’m kneeling at the time, so when I hit the floor, I fall at gnome height.

I like to watch gnomes going solo in a never-ending walk across the lawn. Why gnomes end up at a home on a lawn – which isn’t a range – I’ll never know or ever get a gnome groove going.

What I do know and think in the darkness of my brain. All gnomes should be pan-seared on a range.


Time to flip the gnome burgers.


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My Uncle Once Had a Camel Called George

Not to be confused with the other George who was curious.

I don’t think camels are curious. From what I remember, which isn’t much, camels are nasty, as well as prolific spitters. Unless that was someone, I once worked with.

Notice I didn’t say, “With whom I once worked.” That’s too formal for me and a bit pretentious.


Camel (Photo credit: @Doug88888)e worked.” That’s too formal for me and a bit pretentious.

After all, I’m talking about a camel without a literary background.

My uncle wasn’t a writer like George, but he dabbled in oil paints for awhile, in his twenties, during the Beatnik days in New York City.

In his thirties, my uncle turned in his beret for a cowboy hat. Not really. I never actually saw him wear a hat when training an animal.

I never actually saw him train an animal either.

My uncle mostly trained dogs for television and movies.

I would like to think, or not, that George was the camel in the movie, Ishtar, starring Dustin Hoffman. Ishtar was a disaster, not a disaster movie.

I really wanted to believe that about George until I found this on Ishtar at Wikipedia.

The film’s animal trainer went looking for a blue-eyed camel in the Marrakech market, and found one he considered perfect. But he chose not to buy it right away, expecting he could find others and use that knowledge to bargain with the first trader for a better price. He did not realize that blue-eyed camels were rare, and couldn’t find another camel good enough. He returned to the first trader, who had since eaten the camel.

I’m pretty sure George didn’t have blue eyes or end up sautéed on a Bedouin’s plate.

George may not have had blue eyes, but he had a muzzle. Because, as I mentioned earlier, camels are nasty, as well as wicked spitters. They also look down at you in a judgmental sort of way.

But despite George the camel’s attitude problem, I still like to romanticize the memory of him and my uncle’s farm on the hill, with more dirt than grass. I’d like to remember seeing standoffish George, tower above his wood slat corral, contemplating dusty camel thoughts, while the neighbors barbecued burgers on the grille.

Welcome to day 19 of 30 Days of Writing, a creative writing challenge at We Work for Cheese. Today’s prompt is “Camel.”

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