Oh My Deer
pun
Shore Thing
Rolling ocean waves;
Sure way to serenity
With a seagull’s call.
The Unbearable Bite of Bossiness
“Better butter my beans.”
“Better butter and pepper my beans.”
“Better butter and pepper my beans and broil my beef.”
“Better butter and pepper my beans, broil my beef, and bring my beverage.”
“Better butter and pepper my beans, broil my beef, bring my beverage, and burp me.”
“Better butter and pepper my beans, broil my beef, bring my beverage, burp, and bathe me.”
“Better butter and pepper my beans, broil my beef, bring my beverage, burp and bathe me and b . . . .”
Da Feet
Image: Pixabay
My feet are famous,
They’re like Ghandi’s and Frodo’s;
My sole claim to fame.
Reservation Not Needed
Pantry explorer,
Next best thing to traveling,
World-class appetite.
Tasty feats ahead,
Simple and gourmet cuisine,
Can’t journey, will dine.
Itinerary
Sunday: backyard – Honey-mustard chicken
Monday: patio – Supreme nacho grande
Tuesday: dining room – Oven-fried fish with squid ink pasta and garlic bread
Wednesday: dining room – Chicken biscuit casserole
Thursday: patio – Deep dish pepperoni arugula pizza
Friday: dining room – Mung bean stew with nappa cabbage and pork rinds
Saturday: backyard – Pineapple chicken and vegetables stir fry
Narcosist (a 50-word story)
He crawls out of bed, sneaks a peak at the clock radio sitting on the nightstand by his side. Running his fingers through his stringy roots, he recalls the choice he made the night before. Instead of a lovefest with his woman, he opted to binge watch his addiction, Narcos.
A ‘Nuff Said Series: The First Surge
Part 1: Pandemic
“Unh . . . ”
Part 2: Pandemonium
“Mwahaha . . .”
Part 3: Panacea
“Ah . . .”
Images: Pixabay
Sole Mate
Image: Pixabay
Lots of laughs and fun,
Parading around the house,
Me, myself, and I.
A party of one,
Perfect companion,
Who could ask for more?
Purgatory
Image by PIxabay
No crowding allowed,
No parties, concerts, or games,
To flatten the curve.
Damned to inertia,
Waiting for life to happen,
Can’t do the limbo.
Devil May Care
The clock struck midnight;
You waited too long to leave,
and overstayed your welcome.
You’re now in my yard,
To greet the trick or treaters,
Oh, my little pumpkin.
Rules were laid out,
To go before 12 o’clock,
Or you become my jack-o’-lantern.
Yet you laughed,
Told me to chill,
Now your turn to be still.
