Oh Boy, General Malaise

Suddenly (Marcus Miller album)
Image via Wikipedia I love Zemanta

 

Uhhhh, I feel malaise d generally. Half the time I feel ready to have a catharsis with the contents of my stomach. So I’m down from 400 mg of Luvox to 200 mg.  Why did I do this you may ask. Did I suddenly decided I’d found my nirvana, wasn’t crying over being  a lovelorn loser  enough, suddenly decided I’ve reached the pinnacle of my life?

Not quite.

2 choices:

Drop down to 200, fail everyone, have the attention span of a goldfish, and not being able to stay away from my bed…

or

 

Stay at 400 mg and  not mind that it takes 15 minutes to take a leak, all the while still not being sufficiantely doped enough not to care that my life sucks.

I chose the former. So I’ll try to do better soon. I ain’t forgot your question  Trace.

 

PS, Casey is quilty.

Well, the New Site is Up…

http://ocdbloggergirl.com

The new site is up, but I want to make sure everyone approves.  I’m going to keep both sites up,  Award but I need to know if my subscribers are comfortable with this new site and if I start writing on it if people will leave me, never comment or read again.

Beware Be aware that I must be trying for the World’s Most Tacky Blog Award. If y’all hate it, don’t be afraid to say it.

Fun n’ Optional  Additions to my new blog because I’ve developed a Widget/Plug-In  Addiction:

A Virtual Cat

A genuine chat box, so you can talk and maybe someone will talk back (type back actually)

An incredibly difficult Lillipution size Ms. Pacman game (want more games?)

An eclectic music playlist, which only plays if you hit play (got any song requests?)

If y’all hate any of that let me know too.

All about subscribing…

If you want an email subscription, there’s a little box to add your email to and once you confirm it by email, you’ll get my new posts, or you can subscribe by RSS feed. If for any reason you don’t like either option, I’ll start at least leaving links heere so you’ll know but still be able to comment on my original site if you like. If you don’t even like reading on my new site I’ll syndicate back here.

Commenting

I just kept it like the wordpress theme had it, nothing fancy. All you have to do is put a name, email, and optional website and you can comment almost like wordpress.com.

Anyway let me know truthfully what you think and your preferences.

Thanks,

Lisa

Can someone please tell me…

Is there a way of transporting my subscribers to my .org site? If not, I’m staying right here.

Even if I can get a refund, they won’t refund my domain name, so I have a second question. I hate for the stupid domain name to go to waste, so if i put it on my wordpress.com site, will people still be able toget to my blog using ocdbloggergirl.wordpress.com too?

If the answer is no I’m staying ocdbloggergirl.wordpress.com.

Any advice would be greatly appreciated, thanks!

 

 

Check this out!!! revisited

Thanks Lorna, Marie, and Mikey for checking out my dear pal’s site. He really appreciated your feedback, and now he’s in the process of converting his Blogshorts into short chapters and expanding on them. Would everyone be kind enough to visit http://justwriteofleft.com and see? I really want people to see his work and for his blog to succeed. Jaco is a beautiful wordsmith.

Thank you very much,

Lisa

Y’all Check This Out!!!

Dear friends,

Could y’all do me a favor and check out this awesome blog. He’s new on the block in his genre and writes beautiful flash fiction based on the 4 years he was in China. Romance and pathos blend together into one story and you have my word it’s really worth the visit. Give a brother some comment love too please.

Thanks,

Lisa

http://justwriteofleft.com

Twitter:  http://twitter.com/#!/jaco223

Blogshorts day VII: Worthless

Her mother thinks it maybe  was a dream, her therapist too. Lily can’t be sure though. It could have been the first time someone inferred her life was worthless.  Was she 5 then? Her mom  must have been in the small building too talking to someone. A man, the father of another little girl, gives her a sip of his coffee at her request. It tastes awful!

Somehow she has a lime flavored piece of candy, maybe it was a lollypop she bit off the stick, but she had the large hard candy in her mouth. Then it slips into her throat and Lily can’t breathe. She can’t talk and rather than try to get someone aware of her plight or mere fight or flight, but she runs outside into the night. Their next door neighbor is sitting just outside of the building. She sees the lit end of his cigarette but he is almost obliterated by the light from the doorway.

“Go back inside!” he demands angrily, but Lily bends over near the edge of the path.  She pushes the candy up painfully with her throat muscles and the large lime orb falls into the grass with a trail of saliva. She remembers the green candy reflecting the light.  “Now look what you’ve done” the neighbor growls, but then he giggles just a little. Just a little.

Lily’s throat is raw as she says “But I was choking…”

“Go back in the house.” Did he know, and if he knew, what did it say about Lily? God spared her that night. For what reason, Lily can’t say. Was probably a dream anyway.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Day VI: Bunnies, Kittens, and Carnage.

A six-week-old kitten.
Image via Wikipedia Kittens save the world one bunny at a time

 

Global warming  caused this, thinks Al Gore, staring at the horror outside of his door. Is it snowing in June?  No. The ultimate horror film scenario unfolds before his eyes. Bunnies, white sweet little bunnies fall to the ground.  Hopping, doing jigs, going this way and that, filling the island neighborhood of the environmentalist’s vacation home. Soon there is no ground at all, just teeming masses of white fur.    

Just then,  Al saw a neighbor coming out on his porch.    Jim Bob is the CEO of a lucrative alcoholic beverage company  whose success mirrors the plot of a Horatio Alger book  had Alger wrote From Drunken Boy  Jim to Functioning Alcoholic CEO.

“S’up, Al? ” twangs Jim Bob. 

“Umm, Jimm Bobb?” Al replies as fast as he  can, which , let’s be honest, isn’t that fast at all.    

Jim Bob had held an exclusive wine tasting all the previous night, so exclusive  that he had only  invited himself. This perhaps makes him at a disadvantage to notice the ground below him obliterated by white fur. What happens then takes place in the span of 15 seconds .  Jim Bob’s glazed eyes meet one red eye in the front, and as though it is the signal to attack, a white wave of fur swirls up the lengthy stairs to cover Jim Bob. When the wave of white recedes, all that remains of the man who was Jim Bob McLure  was his jawbone. 

“Ohhh the humanityy! ” cries Al as he bars  his door. It’s moments like this when I wish The Tipper was still around.  Maybe global warming caused the bunnies to condensate and return to earth mutated into rabid rabbit carnivores when solidified. I see a book in this: An Inconvenient Bunny.

Ah, Al, this story isn’t over yet.

“It’ss nnot?”

No.

 

 

 

Suddenly Global Warming  or Mother Nature or somebody shuts off the bunny deluge as the bunnies eat anyone in sight.

And then the  truly unthinkable happens. Kittens! Sweet, innocent little kittens raining from the sky. Kittens of all breeds and colors falling onto the blood thirsty bunnies. But the bunnies don’t eat the falling  critters. Instead the multitude of kittens start  eating the bunnies until there are no more bunnies.

And everyone  on the island that’s still alive and many others in the surrounding counties each got a kitten.  And they all lived happily ever after.

(Author’s note: You can go ask Alice, but I don’t think she’ll know.)

(Author’s  profound statement: Yes, I proudly voted for Gore in 2000. I believe in global warming too, but not as much worried as some people are.)    

Working title for the movie version: The Hossenfeffer Horror                                                                                                                                                                                     

Day V: Jesus Saves

Lily remembers. You must be Christ-like, they  told her. Ugly, scrawny little girl. Those were the days before she became a hopeless heifer. Save someone, they said, but who would save her?

(Author’s note: Here’s 50 cents. Call someone who cares. You are depressing me. Write about bunnies and kittens, Lisa, or go home).

(Author’s more profound note: No, I ain’t dissing Jesus).