Fragments Of Me

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This is an old post for my newer blogging friends to get to know me.  It posted three years ago.

Fragments of Me

When we were young our lives consisted of questions.

The questions we needed answered. The hundreds of questions our parents and teachers asked.

But a ten year old was never meant to have all the answers.

My classmates attended the big party. Stupid me promised to dance with every girl. Boys stood on one side, girls on the other.

My friends taunted me. “Go dance.”

With wobbly knees and sweaty forehead, I tried to look cool.

Then I spotted Lisa Big Boobies Barelli. Oh my, she could fill up a B-cup like no other girl in school.

Ever since kindergarten when she first smiled at me, I knew the other girls didn’t compare. Lisa had all her teeth.

From across the room I admired her.

Who cares if she had rounder cheeks than the other girls?

Lisa had something the skinny girls didn’t have.

She had curves.

Deep breath…..I broke the ice approaching the circle of “cool girls” as they giggled like hyenas.

Unable to speak, I did something that became my signature move. Never inviting her to dance, I took Lisa’s hand and led her to the dance floor.

Everyone watched us dance as I impressed her with witty banter.

She said, “Nice party.”

I replied, “Uh-huh.”

“Are you wearing perfume?”

“Yeah.”

Even at that early age I knew women preferred a good smelling man. So, I wore my mother’s Chanel #5.

My friends mocked me for dancing with Lisa. I maneuvered us around so she wouldn’t see their hurtful antics.

The boys never understood. Why dance with other girls if I was already dancing with the prettiest one?

“Andrew, there’s so many beautiful girls here with lovely dresses and their hair in pretty curls. You could’ve danced with any of them.”

Then, Lisa asked the terrifying question.  “Why me?”

I felt the universe collapsing on me. Boys laughed. Girls gave me dirty looks. Now, I had to answer this….

How much pressure could one ten year old take?

Searching for infinite wisdom, I gazed into her big blue eyes and whispered. “Why not?”

The lights dimmed.

A love song came on.

Lisa gave me a bear hug and kissed my cheek.

Thankfully, the darkness cloaked my confusion.

That ten year old boy learned so much that night.

He learned about having the courage to be the first.

He learned to go after the girl he wanted, no matter what anyone else thought.

And dancing cheek to cheek…

He learned some questions are meant to be answered by asking another question.

Photo of myself taken by friend of the family.

A Better Life

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A Better Life

A flash of light introduced a thunder clap.

Rising to his feet, he found himself in the janitor’s supply room; two floors above his intended location.

Every second counted. Jack burst out of the closet, dashing into the nearest stairwell. He only had one chance to prevent this horror. If he didn’t stop it now, the moment could never be undone.

Tripping over his feet, he tumbled down the stairs, smacking into the hard concrete wall. Head spinning like a carousel, he wobbled to his feet. Bolts of pain streaked down his leg.

His desperate eyes glanced at the time.

Stumbling away, he ignored the burning currents that tormented him.

Was he too late?

He limped onto the second floor. Seventy feet separated him from his destination.

He didn’t want her to be scarred forever.

Ignoring an out of service sign, Jack hurled himself at the bathroom door.

Clutching a torn white dress in his hand, the janitor stood over nine year old Josephine. Huddled in the corner, she wept.

Before anyone could react, Jack crushed Janitor against the wall and slammed his head against the sink.

Hobbling past the unconscious predator, Jack handed Josephine her clothes. “Did he hurt you?”

She pressed the ripped dress against her quivering body. “No.”

Jack turned away.

“Who are you?”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“I remember your face. You caught me last month before I fell down the stairs.”

Jack sighed. Preventing that fall spared Josephine from a wheelchair, leading her down a new life path.

“Are you my guardian angel?”

Guardian angel sounded better than time traveling soul mate. “Can you do me a favor?”

“Depends.”

“After I leave, count to ten before screaming. Tell everyone he slipped and banged his head. Tell them what he wanted to do to you. Can you do that?”

She nodded. “Will I see you again?”

He knew the heartless rules of time travel. Amend the past, you change the future. Rescue the girl, you alter the woman.

“I hope so.” He staggered away. Seconds later, he leaned against the stairwell wall.

How many times will he transform her life? Will each new path lead her back to him? He peeked at a photograph of Josephine on his cell phone. He admired his future bride standing in a white wedding dress. She sat in a wheelchair in the original photo.

Jack knew the dangers of playing with her past. Saving Josephine from tears may destroy their destiny together.

Will she still love him in her reconstructed future?

Only if they were meant to be. If not, he had to be content knowing he gave her a better life.

 

Photo taken from Google Images.

My Name Is Stone

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My Name Is Stone

My name is Stone

It is sad being a cemetery statue

I watch unappreciative people

They come here regretting, weeping, mourning

They come here to say goodbye

They come here to be educated

Death teaches them so much about life

It is once

It is short

It is beautiful

I am not a teacher but

Humans leave here with knowledge

My name is Stone

It is sad being a cemetery statue

Things could be worse

I could have been a gargoyle

 

Image taken from Google Images.

Lonely Author: My First Pedicure

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“You never had a pedicure?” Stunned, my wife and daughter stared at me.

Maybe the Chimp needed to get in touch with his feminine side.

Coming home from my doctor’s appointment, I journeyed into a beauty salon.

To ignore the strange looks from the women I picked up a magazine.  Apparently, Caitlyn Jenner doesn’t feel like a woman anymore.

A tiny Asian woman led me to chair that stood above a tub. Removing my sneakers, socks, and rolling up my jeans, I sank my feet into the warm water.

I could get used to this.

I started clever salon conversation. “Are you excited about the new season of ‘The Voice?’”

The thin woman next to me made awful sounds with her gum as if she learned to chew by watching cattle grazing.

Forget the conversation.

This Chimp knows there’s no greater turn off than a man with crusty nails. So, there wasn’t much for the old lady to do there.

The old lady started rubbing some grating apparatus against my heel. When she moved to the bridge of my foot….

Quickly withdrawing, I yelled, and leapt out of my seat.

The entire salon turned to look at me.

“I’m ticklish.”

Returning my hoof to the old lady, I ignored a room full of shaking heads and rolling eyes.

Biting my lip, she continued on that sweet spot.

At this moment I knew men are the weaker sex; child birth, monthly cramps, pedicures, raising immature husbands.

Women are built to stand excruciating torture.

No wonder why I couldn’t keep a woman. I submitted them to this cruel torture.

Minutes later she massaged my foot with a fragrant cream.  It actually made me a little drowsy.

Two quick taps on my foot.

Some relaxing Oriental massage trick.

Two more taps.

A salon full of women yelled in unison, “She wants the other foot.”

How humiliating.

She painted my toe nails with a clear enamel although a cream colored French manicure may have gone well with my Earth tone eyes.

An hour later, I entered my apartment.

Leaving my shoes and socks on the welcome mat, I stood before my wife and daughter. Then, I truly got in touch with my feminine side.

No one noticed my lovely pedals.

I truly knew how it felt to be a woman; an unappreciated flower.

Alas, getting in touch with my feminine side wasn’t what I thought it would be.

Perhaps, next time I want to get in touch with my feminine side I could get a Brazilian Wax.

I THINK NOT.

 

 

Changes to Lonely Author

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Lonely Author wants to thank everyone for putting up with his six week Lovefest. Also, sending special thanks to everyone who encouraged me with my Devil Girl Diaries.

During the past six weeks I have posted twice a day six days a week.

A pace that I can’t continue…..

There are characters banging inside my thick Chimp skull wanting to get out. Not to mention the characters of my completed novels and screenplays wanting their stories to be read/viewed.

There is also the issue of helping the butterflies in my life.

My daughter struggling with college as her mother’s health wanes.

My battered lady friends complaining, “I am always too busy.”

My pouting Allie accusing me of loving my blog more than I love her.

IT IS TOTALLY MY FAULT, for spoiling them.

In a nutshell, I will post less often. Some weeks more than others.

However, I will follow all of you faithfully, leaving my stupid comments, sharing bad jokes, hopefully inspiring, definitely flirting, and leaving an occasional Chimpism.

I must confess, this saddens me, but…..

My butterflies and characters need to be tended to.

From the bottom of my heart and the heart of my bottom, I thank each and every one of you for your support.

If anyone needs to get in touch with me you can do it via my Contact Me page or via twitter @LonelyAuthorNY.

Have a wonderful week.
Keep smiling.
Keep writing.

Eternally Yours

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Eternally Yours

Tyler remembered driving through the heavy storm. Rain covered his windshield like a thick blanket of dripping wetness. He had no recollection of how he arrived in the hospital. He just knew he had to survive until…she arrived.

Too many strange faces before him. They brought little comfort; only she could provide relief. He ignored the weak signal of the electrocardiogram knowing the inevitable moment was upon him. He faded in and out of life. Then, suddenly she appeared.

he felt a familiar comfort
looking at that best thing
that ever happened to him
he admired her loving face
why was life terribly unfair
one lifetime wasn’t enough
time to be in love with her
staring at the best of his life
he suddenly felt tranquility
as he took his final breath
He saw eternity in her eyes

Photo taken from Google Images

Devil Girl Diaries – 14 (Sex Club)

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Photo taken by moi.

Every man has that one unforgettable woman that will haunt him until his final day; the girl that got away. Allie detested television, vanilla ice cream, and missionary. She explored the depths of her sexuality; while I discovered the heights of my pain. My muse had a nickname. I called her Devil Girl. I write these words to ease my sorrows. My name is Andrew.

This is our story.

Naked in a sea of nakedness
My eyes searched for Allie
Why did I come to this sex club
lust and desire
to satisfy her curiosity
Or my own
Why did I take my eyes off of her
This was dangerous
Like taking an arsonist to a lumber yard
And this idiot
Gave her matches and lighter fluid
My heart beat like jungle drums
Where was she
I tried to sort through the images
Bodies writhing
Mouths kissing
She was nowhere to be found
Then I spotted a small crowd
My heart sank
Allie loved an audience
I slowly neared
Dreading what was coming
My eyes needed to see
What my heart would never accept
Looking over broad shoulders
I found the woman of my life
With three men
Hands explored the treasures
I thought were only mine
They did everything
But one thing bothered me
More than anything else
The look on her face
She was truly happy
With head bowed I walked away
It will never be the same Devil Girl

 

To be continued

 

Aries, Love, And Flirting

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Woman grimaces, “Oh, you’re an Aries.” Born on April 8, my sign appears to have plenty of negative baggage.

But let’s take a closer look at what I found on the internet.

 

Aries, the Lover

Aries exudes masculinity & sex appeal. He’s master of sexual banter & can even out-flirt a Gemini. Aries is a fire sign and is quite passionate about life, especially when it comes to love.

Don’t know about the exuding stuff. It’s more like sexual banter and passion for life ooze from me like jelly from a donut.

 

Are You Compatible with Aries?

Your Aries lover isn’t like any other lover you ever had. If you’re in a relationship, you are basking in the love fest only Aries can give.

If you’ve never dated an Aries, you’re in for a big happy surprise. This is one man who knows how to woo you. If there were a school for men to attend to learn how to flirt and how to give a simple look that will thrill a potential partner, it would be created and run by an Aries.

Reading this crap, I ask myself why women were never impressed by the sign and my monkey charm. This is the second time they mention flirting.

Get Ready, Set, Flirt!

If it has been a while since you flirted, you better brush up on your eye fluttering skills. Aries is the master of charm and flirtation. The Aries lover delights in the electricity that sparks between him and his object of desire, and sparks will fly. It isn’t just the words that he whispers; it’s the way Aries says them with a devilish glint in his eyes and the lopsided grin.

Yeah, don’t know if you noticed, NOTORIOUS FLIRTER HERE. Okay, guilty as charged. I love electricity and banter.

Confidence Is Sexy

One of the sexiest traits of an Aries lover is his self-confidence. This is a natural part of his personality and not anything he’s even aware of having. He isn’t arrogant, just self-aware and self-assured.

Reading all of this crap you would think I could get along with anyone.

My best matches? Gemini, Leo, and Sagittarius.

Well, excluding short term girlfriends, dates, one night stands, and sexual buddies; the major two Ex’s in my life were both Sagittarius.

Worst signs for me? Virgo, Capricorn, and Taurus.

Wife??  Same birthday April 8. She is a worse flirter than I am and we do butt heads from time to time.

Conclusion???  The damn chimp is a flirt.

Devil Girl Diaries – 13 (Taxi Ride)

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Photo taken by moi.

Every man has that one unforgettable woman that will haunt him until his final day; the girl that got away. Allie detested television, vanilla ice cream, and missionary. She explored the depths of her sexuality; while I discovered the heights of my pain. My muse had a nickname. I called her Devil Girl. I write these words to ease my sorrows. My name is Andrew.

This is our story.

Dinner and drinks were over
Perhaps I had one too many
Okay three or four too many
Allie led me out the restaurant
In her high heels and tiny skirt
She hailed a cab
I found comfort against a lamppost
The cab screeched to a halt
Allie pushed me inside
Bumped my head as I entered
Once seated the cab sped off
City Lights flashed like a kaleidoscope from hell
I leaned my head back
Relishing the peaceful night with no antics
Her hands caressed my thigh
I loved these rare moments
She tugged at my pants
“baby, you doing what” I asked
She freed willy
I uttered more drunken words
“you no can do that inside cab here”
It was a suggestion
Not a dare
She did it anyway
I watched the back of her pretty head
My mouth opened to speak
SIGH
cabbie adjusted his rearview mirror
oh, hell the what
my head fell back in ecstasy
I felt heaven
As I raced through hell
I love you Girl Devil

Until next week