Let's see...what has Moi been up to ...

not much...working, pushing blind chickens in ditches, going around telling everyone that Jesus has stinky feet, pulling the wings off Superheros and...standing in front of open windows at night, wearing only pink lace panties.

You know... the usual stuff.

What kind of Flirt am I?

You Are a Natural Flirt

Believe it or not, you're a really effective flirt. And you're so good, you hardly notice that you're flirting. Your attitude and confidence make you a natural flirt. And the fact that you don't know it is just that more attractive!

What Kind of Flirt Are You?

Captain Beefheart... you are one of the first

modern fucked-up geniuses. When it comes to

creating, you rank right up there with the

likes of James Mangan, John Wilmot and Edvard

Munch.


Which fucked-up genius composer are you?
brought to you by Quizilla


(thanks Steve)

Tattoos

A customer was in here a while ago...she has at least 6 tattoos that are visible.

I asked, "Does it take long to get them done?"

She replied, "Sometimes. But it doesn't matter. Tattos are done while you wait."


(rim shot)

How You Are In Love

You take a while to fall in love with someone. Trust takes time. You give and take equally in relationships. You need your space and privacy. You don't like to be smothered. You love your partner unconditionally and don't try to make them change. You stay in love for a long time, even if you aren't loved back. When you fall, you fall hard.

How Are You In Love?

A man had a dog with no legs...

he called it Cigarette and took it out for a drag

A redneck family from the hills was visiting the city and they were in a
mall for the first time in their life. The father and son were strolling around
while the wife shopped. They were amazed by almost everything they
saw, but especially by two shiny, silver walls that could move apart and
then slide back together again.

The boy asked, "Paw, What's 'at?"

The father (never having seen an elevator) responded, "Son, I dunno. I ain't
never seen anything like that in my entire life, I ain't got no idea'r what it is."

While the boy and his father were watching with amazement, a fat old lady
in a wheel chair rolled up to the moving walls and pressed a button. The walls
opened and the lady rolled between them into a small room. The walls closed
and the boy and his father watched the small circular numbers above the walls
light up sequentially. They continued to watch until it reached the last number
and then the numbers began to light in the reverse order. Then the walls opened
up again and a gorgeous, voluptuous 24-year-old blonde woman stepped out.

The father, not taking his eyes off the young woman, said quietly to his Son,
"Boy, go git yo Momma.... "

Good-bye Earl

Welll..... I changed the link to Earl's blog since it's under federal, state and local investigation.


Good-bye Earl.... may you forever enjoy Half-Nekkid Thursday!

That was Fun

Wonder how many Peter (Peta?) head people I'll piss off with some of those 'toys' I posted???

I had an excellent weekend...even managed to dance around a bonfire. NO sacrifices made (this time).


Very brisk and cold today. The sun is hiding or on vacation, which makes the day seem longer because it's gray outside.

Hard to Find Toys!

Weather

Funky

that's the word I'm using to describe it. It's been 70-74 F this week...and tomorrow, it drops to 43 F and Rain!

How do I get the 7o degree weather back?
(sacrificing a weatherman on the altar of the Weather Goddess, doesn't work...I've tried it...nor does F'ing a weatherman)

Now that the sappy holiday is over...

yea I'm talking about VD day....

it's time to think of the next important one...

St. Paddy's Day...as an Irish Lass, I find it important to drink green beer and pinch asses not wearing green.

So I'm warning you... a month ahead of time.

The Sea

Winter's breath chills the nape of my neck,
as I struggle to fight the February cold.
I yearn for the sea, the warmth of summer's tears...
to feel white sand clinging to my toes,
like children to their mothers' aprons.
I want to dance along the surf's edge,
wrapped in sea foam and salt.
If I can somehow gather my strength,
this dismal month will evaporate
under the will of my Scorpio soul.
I am of water by nature--tears, sweat
and emotional outbursts of desire and passion.
The songs of sirens live within me,
luring men to me like moths to flame.
Yet in the cold of February, I cannot sing.
I can only shiver in the frost of night
and yearn for the sea's shimmer,
the sunlight of Scorpio dreams.

~~~~
what's ironic is that today...its in the upper 60's and mild...

You Belong in 1959

1959 If you scored... 1950 - 1959: You're fun loving, romantic, and more than a little innocent. See you at the drive in! 1960 - 1969: You are a free spirit with a huge heart. Love, peace, and happiness rule - oh, and drugs too. 1970 - 1979: Bold and brash, you take life by the horns. Whether you're partying or protesting, you give it your all! 1980 - 1989: Wild, over the top, and just a little bit cheesy. You're colorful at night - and successful during the day. 1990 - 1999: With you anything goes! You're grunge one day, ghetto fabulous the next. It's all good!

What Year Do You Belong In?

John G

For some reason, I thought of you when I saw this comic!

Happy Valentine's Day

A Kiss from me to you!

The Chicken Rumor

I was at the post office Saturday...in line waiting to mail a package to one of my out-of-state friend's for her birthday.. I'm waiting in line, paitently when a voice behind me says "Sherrie, ran over any chickens lately?"

I turned around and there was Keith I., a guy I graduated with. Back story:

During my growing up years, I was very shy and quiet (yea I know...hard to believe now)... I drove us (my siblings and two cousins) to school in a white T-bird and we couldn't go to Lumberton H.S because we lived outside the city limits..so I had to drive 20 mins to Orrum. I had to drive by Keith's house.

He like to tease me, because I blushed easily. His house was right beside the highway and they had chickens roaming free. One afternoon I hit one...a huge rooster... I'm talking white feathers everywhere... it was like driving through a cloud of them. I was horrified. And didn't say anything about it to Keith.

About a week later, during English...we were having a test of sorts. The teacher had just given them out and was sitting down at her desk when Keith said, " Mrs. Floyd, I want to say something before we begin the test."

Mrs. Floyd gave a startled look and said, "Ummm ok. Make it brief."

He cleared his throat and said, "The next time you hit one of our chickens with your Thunderbird, you better take it home and eat it, Sherrie Parnell. That's all I have to say, Mrs. Floyd."

I wanted to hide under the desk, because my face turned 5 shades of red and everyone laughed so hard that Mrs. Floyd had to rap on the desk...even as she quelled her own laughter.

lol... I want to clear the record... I haven't ran over a chicken since then.

Rainy

outside
rivulets of rain
on window panes

inside
rivulets of kisses
on my skin

and rainy day
dreams...
come true

Romance

I do not know romance, the taste of mint of lips.
Yet, I seek the thrill of its electricity,
flowing like fire in my veins--the burn of blue.

I know not the desires that lurk in your heart,
but I read them on the folds of your lips,
like Braille under my fingertips or sexual morse code.

We dance, we sing, we play each other's bodies,
like harps along the waters of decadence,
each note a sweat drop falling on red satin.

You ask for romance, for the twist of desire
that pulsates along our skin--the paths of pleasure.
The answer, my love is written upon my inner thighs...

the secrets of romance as only I can whisper.

The Reviews are In

Gotten several emails regarding my Feb issue and everyone seems to think its the best so far. I'm relieved. It was a struggle to get it out with the computer system at work giving me a hard time and being sick with this respiratory bug.

Thanks to Steve--the insolent lad for his sonnets. Sam for his poem and special thanks to the coolest DJ in America--Jeff D for his song list... and for the silly entry in the guest book.

Next month will be here in a few weeks and I haven't gotten a clue to what I'll put in the March issue...any suggestions are appreciated.

And for the record...that's not my boyfriend in the cupid outfit.

Snowflakes falling on my hair.
Will I become a
snow angel?

Feb Issue is UP

click


finally!

In Dance


Electric air
the static of life
clinging to my veil...

I turn
a river of
chiffon, soft blue

the subtle shiver
of coins play
from my hips

I am
a Goddess of
shimmy and grace

In dance
I rejoice in
feminine vibrance

I am
eternal sensuality
and oh so

touchable.

~~~
An ode to Belly Dancing

Hope

Opal fires live in the center of my soul,
burning cool like sunlight on grapes.
In the blue of the fires, lives hope.
I do not nuture it, for it feeds on life;
the ribbons of clouds waving,
angels sighing over newborn lambs.

With every passing sigh, I sing hope,
the colors of my soul reflected in opal.
My world burns bright in its fires,
the ribbons of clouds woven overhead.
There is good in this troubled world,
the wheat of many dreams baked golden.

As long as opal fires burn in my soul,
as long as clouds weave rainbows and
lambs sigh angelic under golden light,
I will sing hope, the warm glow of grapes
dreaming of wine and the wheat of life
reaping the glory of love saying, "Believe."

A poem in Haibun style


Night settles on the lashes of your eyes, as I watch you sleep. It
seems I am always doing that--watching you sleep in quiet dreams. We
never know what roads we take when we find love, it's dusty trails a
mystery. But I do know this much, I find the simple things in life
are those sought in silence, like the exhalation of sighs on skin,
the faint sheen of sweat after sex and the shelter of your arms as
you hold me.

Night settles on the planes of your body, as I watch you sleep. I
travel them with my eyes and marvel at the dips and curves along the
sculpture of your flesh. My hands and lips know them well. I can
envision every freckle, every dimple and tender spot on you. Under
moonlight, I inspect the pads of my fingertips to see if the paths
they've traveled over your body are engraved in their folds like
they're engraved on my soul.

Night settles on the edges of my eyelashes, as I fight sleep. The
moon whispers that the time has arrived for me to join you in
slumber, to climb the stargazer's ladder to dreamland and seek you
there. But I don't want to surrender the night, because it belongs
to me and silence--the eyes of shadows are mine and I keep you there.

under moonlight's glow
dreams wrap around you and I
like entwining limbs

a ku

taste of spearmint
flavoring words of love
meant for me

John G

Where have you been?
Cheating on me, I bet.
I thought maybe you went down with Earl's blog!

I've missed you, btw.


You know... you could get one of those horny little devil costumes and I'll show you just how irresistable I am. ;)

Don't Lose Me

Don't lose me in dreams, as you wander the reeds of yesterday,
pulling at time and trying to find the lost sonnet of today.
I am with you, patiently stepping over the timber you shatter,
as you search for the mysteries that elude you inside this place.
The stride of your step is wide and I cannot tread lightly within it.

Don't lose me, as you seek the comforts of clouds, touching treetops.
I am light of heart but heavy with passion and cannot float so free.
You whisper to the sky above you that inside your dreams lives truth.
Yet you fail to turn around and see that truth is woven in my hair.
In dreams, you seek answers. I seek love, the sonnet of souls as one.

William and the attacking Cupcakes

When one of the students in William's first grade class has a birthday, the parents bring cupcakes and they have a party.

Well, since the ecoli situation a few years ago, the parents are only allowed to bring store bought cupcakes. No more homemade stuff.

Tuesday was a birthday day and a mother brought cupcakes. Instead of sitting the huge box on a table and opening it, she chose to open it by the student in the first row, who happened to be William.

She couldn't get the tape undone which holds the box together, so she pulled extr-hard and boom... plop plop plop... 30 chocolate iced cupcakes fall on William's head. He was covered in them. His teacher ran over, fearing that he would cry, because William doesn't like to be dirty. Much less covered in cupcakes. She made a joke and laughed at his shocked face. He was a big sport...took it all in stride.

I saw him briefly yesterday. And said, "William, I heard that a box of chocolate covered cupcakes danced on your head."

He smiled and reached for my hand. "That was yesterday."

"So what happened? Tell me about it."

"Aunt Sherrie, I wanted to run away but there was no where to go. And they kept coming and coming."

A Twist of Satin

At my hips,
a twist of satin
deep red
like rubies
on ivory skin.

I'm tangled
in the weave
of lust
a fabric
of decadence.

I am a
twist of satin
that even
Satan can't
resist.

not much to say today

Feeling a bit overwhelmed with life... probably due to a sinus infection, a new PC system that hates me and a scanner that keeps playing hide and seek.