Speaking ill of the dead
Izzey gives a very personal and compelling perspective on the subject of rape, and rape hysteria. And with it she adds a lesson in healing and moving on with life all the stronger. Bullshit doesn’t help.
Holding the Title
Until there is true equality for men in marriage, divorce, and parenthood, I think that men should lease and not buy. Yeah, you will always have those payments, but in the end it is cheaper. And nothing – nothing – beats that new car smell.
Fire
She kept turning around to see if she was being watched. I almost felt sorry for her. But I could not help thinking, that if my house was on fire and she was in charge of the water to put it out, I’d be royally fucked; probably burned to a crisp.
A Bitch Named Irene…
I looked into the basement. High tide peaked and I had one step to go. The water looked calmer. The freezer was lodged on two steps against a wall that had my workbench on the other side.
The Prodigal Princess
The Queen was living with another King. But she wasn’t getting married to The New King, because that would ruin the best of both worlds. She would live with The New King; enjoying all the privileges of a new kingdom…whilst holding up The Princess like a beggar’s cup for more money than the courts had awarded her from The Old King.
Walk a Mile in My Shoes?
When women talk about shoes, I don’t suppose a lot of them have these images in mind. While they are buying a pair of the latest fashionable boots from the hottest ‘designer of the moment’, many families are affected and grieving for the men who have donned, and lost life and limb, in his particular footwear.
Tell Me Thy Company, and I’ll Tell Thee What Thou Art
One woman held up her ‘french tips’ to another and said, “Oh, I just love her work. You should go see Michelle, and tell her that I sent you.” She was oozing saccharine as she talked.
I couldn’t resist. I said “Or, you can come to work with me on boats, and I could fiberglass them for you. It would last a lot longer.”
Gentlemen, My Ass Thanks You
I’m stuck. Truly stuck in the past. A past that was created long before I was born. The history of men; an undeniable history that occurs to me every single time I leave the house. A house I might add, that was designed and built by men over eighty three years ago. I love my …
If Momma Ain't Happy…
Momma — The woman that beat the shit out of every single one of these kids, (and now I know from the daughter that I ran into, poppa, as well) now resides in a comfy condo in Florida, thanks to the life insurance poppa paid no-matter-what….and the sale of the big fucking house he bought, and God knows what else….to live out the rest of her days.
What is Wrong With These Women?
I was devastated. The love of my life was hit by a drunk truck driver on his motorcycle. My dreams and heart just died on that day. And other women were telling me to shop around for a sugar daddy?
