Thanks, Darlings


It’s Virtual Packing Day Over Here At The Grotto …

I’m Unplugging This Weekend And Moving Out Of This Space On WordPress.

I’m Paid Up Until December 30, But Bolting The Hell Out Early – It’s Like That – And This:

So, Here Goes Nada, Nyet, Nein …


You Can Find Me Below … If You Need A Laugh – Leftover Love (I’ll Share) – Or Nothing At All But Don’t Know Where To Go To Find Nothing At All – or – 6411095225 (email me to de-scramble the digits)

I’m On A Couple Facebook Spots, But I Almost Never Go There.

No Instagram Or Twitter Or Whatever The Other One Is Called.


I’ll Always Write Like Shit Because It’s What I’ve Always Done … A Bad Habit I Can’t Seem To Kick …

I’ll Never Under Share Even When I’m Puking Up My Guts, Showing My Nuts, Climbing Out Of The Ruts.

Tomorrow. The Day After.

Not Sure About Wednesday.


I Quit – WordPress Didn’t Dump Me – Because I’ve Had Enough Of Me Doing Me. Really, There’s A Limit To Nonsense.

And There’s This: 406 Posts … 700+ Followers … Writing 175,000 Words Too Many.

Read (Or Ignored) At Least Once In 114 Countries – 42,000 Views By 14,000 Visitors – With Not Much Better To Do … That’s Kinda Cool, I Say Thank You, All.

“What’s Wrong With You People?”


I’m Abandoning …

59 Drafts.

I Don’t Feel Guilty About.

And 9 Really Good Ideas On: How To Get Rich Fast, How To Lose Weight By Eating Lots Of Crap, And How To Make Friends By Buying Their Affection …


Inspired. Befriended. Cherished.

Along The Way:







But, Wait, There’s More – I’ll Miss All Y’Alleses A Bunch Here – We’re Not Strangers. I Promise I Won’t Make This Weirder Than It Already Is I Am …

Ciao For Now, Meow Meow.


A Friendly Reminder (To Me) To Pull Off The Blinder On Self …

To Go Look For My Mind Wherever The Fuck I Left It (I Know It’s In Here Somewhere Because It Hasn’t Shut Up) – And, Mostly – Listen To My Heart Speak The Truth For Once:

“As I Take Love With Gluttonous Immunity And Deflection Of Feelings By Another … I Accept Responsibility … To Share My Love Without Restraint And An Oath To Death That Its Not Mine To Keep Hidden Or Buried … End The Blessed Shame I Bear No More, My Truth Is Free, Little Bird…”

Immediately – Don’t Wait, Schmuck Face – It’s About All I’ve Ever Learned In Life. I Wish That Lesson Would Stick To My Heart.

Photo by Slick from Kookaburra Me

Chapter 3 – I Wouldn’t Call It Love …

An excerpt from ‘Kookaburra Me’ – Copyright © 2020 by Michael A. Kuch


A grown man sexually assaults a small boy, feeds on his soul, and leaves him to wither in shame and disgrace …”  

I will not say his name. 

Vampires aren’t worthy to hear my voice.  How it breaks in silent screams during endless Night Terrors.  Out-of-body premonitions haunt me.  The horror of falling – breaking the axis of levitation – pursued, hunted, eaten.  My mind blanking, shattering, erasing … stuttering to find solace, losing grasp, never coming home because home never existed. 

Where is my peace when my heart is stilled?  When a breathless exhale asphyxiates my larynx into submission?  I’m mute when I dream.  The apparition frozen in the mirror when I awake looks a lot like me. 


knrFa. Frank. 

I typed every letter with my head down.  It’s not writer’s block that makes me stop.  Tears can’t stop me.

“I can’t have his name near mine.  Frank is a predator of children.  Carnivorous Pedophile.  He ate my childhood … A good portion of my adulthood … A chunk of my manhood … This is what’s left of what never was.”

I’ve hated him as I should.  Quietly in my space. Perhaps, you’ve noticed.


Because hate should placate my pain …

I can’t justify hate or pain.  Not anymore. I won’t tolerate my silence another moment.

It’s no coincidence that the Beast and I are related.  It was a matter of convenience for him.  Being hand fed to Frank – an adult first cousin, my mother’s nephew, son of her oldest late brother.

“Frank is a sick cunt.  The profane descriptive fits.  I’ll wash my mouth with soap once I cleanse my Soul with Love. I’m entitled. Let me play the victim just this once. No apology. My Adolph.  My Idi.  My Vlad.  Demon Seed.”


In a mental health facility long ago …

He did unspeakable things to other people.

Like scald a woman with boiling water. 

I’m not alone, not the only child to be violated by the Butcher of Bronte.


It’s better this way – for both of us – him mostly. 

Frank’s heart was dead when he took mine; left in a room with him while the adults drank and laughed and talked in the kitchen and backyard. 

About what, mom? 

“What Frank might do if left alone with a small boy … his scrawny little cousin?  It wasn’t his first lemonade stand …”


Was force his Evil Will upon me – inhale me – withered My Innocent Being.  

Usurped my childhood and replenished the void it left with fear.  


So, we never spoke about it.  Mom did though.  She told people in disgust.  Gossipy.  Not the right people. 


The Catholic Church?  The Pious Men in Black with the white clerical collars?  Good one, right.  Let the Hyenas hunt.  The Holy Hypocrites had conspired once before in perpetrating a lie I believed, albeit on mom’s oath, with a forged Baptism certificate. 

Police?  Doctor?  Child shrink?  Therapist?  Children’s Aid Society?  My relatives?  My older brothers? 

“My God, My God, My God …”

Where was my father on the only day I needed the asshole to strangle a wicked man to within a breath of his life for violating his child?  Answer me, sir … 


I’ve figured it out – this can’t be right – it shouldn’t have happened, but it did … 

I’ve asked God … Why Father?  The short answer never made sense.  The long answer is not mine.    

I can’t write this.  I don’t want to write any of this.  I must write this.

Fifty years isn’t long enough.  This is the last false start.  I’m making it to the end this time – God, please listen – let me know if I get it right. 


Hear me, diablo cugino.  My voice is in your head.  Stop the crazy for a moment and listen. 

“Do you remember me?”

You had me.  Tasted me.  Tried me out.  Subjected me to your vile, immoral carnal pleasures.  Please don’t forget.  Please try hard.  Please remember me.  Never forget the little boy.  The shame.  The filth.  The decay.  The perversion. My flesh peeled back.  The stench of my innocence on your filthy breath …

“Don’t you fucking forget me … don’t you dare die before you repent, Frank.”


You owe me something you can never repay

No do-overs or giving back on this one. 

This is all you get – a thousand words and the last of my tears and none of my heart and no more of my fear – I owe you this after you sucked out My Soul. 

It wasn’t yours to take. 


Tattooed fear and weakness and anger …

Stunted me emotionally for a good bit.  

“Made me afraid of the dark, afraid of men – unworthy of the few good women I’ve cared about because I was incapable to relate to love, to identify love, to know love, to accept love, to be love …”

Fear of what I might become.  What I have become.  What I am not.  Not isn’t good.


Ruined me – then – for every day to come …

“Every tender, loving moment … during every sensual engagement with a woman, there you were on the bed hovering over me … crawling under my skin … mocking my manhood.  Cheating the world out of the best part of me … the part that hasn’t happened.”

And here, again.  One last time then I promise we’re done. 

Not another dark day; there will be no more flesh for you to feed on. 


A Complete Man – There it is – Tainted.  Impure. 

Not a proper man like Hemingway or Tarzan. 

I am a male, but that’s not enough to make it in my world, or to escape the one I left behind.  A conditioned, engineered, rationed, derivative … fictional simile of a falsified man. 

“Tormented between the chasm of broken and healed, and lost and forsaken, lives acceptance.  Acceptance is a death sentence for hope, and that’s not good enough for me.”


“You’re a monster.”

You broke me.  All of me.  Took the It from me before my It blossomed.

Another thing I’ll confess:

I lied.

I mislead you when I said I’d never be a complete man.


I’m very good inside and out …

Strong All Over … You had me, but couldn’t keep me …

This is Me The Man Talking, Brother. I’ve a heart, a soul, a mind – a body, a face, a mouth – a voice, a choice, a plea:

“Please Die Inside Me …”


My Faith is Forgiveness.  My Fate is Forgiveness.

And so, I share my Fate with you in exchange for your pain.  Your suffering.  Your guilt.  Your sin. 

My forgiveness.  My gift is love – Take My Love – It’s all I have.  Now go.  Leave me and the Others in peace.  We’re done here.  Fini.

“May God have Mercy on you …”

Photo by Rahul from Pexels

Chapter 2: Don’t Touch Me

An excerpt from ‘Kookaburra Me’ – Copyright © 2020 by Michael A. Kuch


“I’ve had an incurable problem with staring at people …”

Since I was 3 months-old when I was greeted by the first big lie: meeting the impostor masquerading as Jolly Old St. Nick during my first Christmas. 

It may have been the best day of my life until 1998. 

Better than one summer afternoon five-and-a-half years later when a bloodsucker touched me without my permission – against my will, I had no will, what will does a small defenseless child have? – that would be the beginning of the worst days. 

Continue reading “Chapter 2: Don’t Touch Me”

Chapter 1: Baby Boo

An excerpt from ‘Kookaburra Me’ – Copyright © 2020 by Michael A. Kuch


“It’s late afternoon nap time and I’m not sleeping …”

I’m awake, lounging in an early-1960s powder blue snowsuit previously owned by another ungrateful, snot-nosed little shitling before my mother scooped it from the Saint Vincent de Paul thrift store bin.  Its zipped below my pudgy neck over a ribbed cotton turtleneck onesie snapped at the undercarriage where my pinkish, wrinkled scrotum adjoins to the neighboring taint a tickle away from my baby-sized anus. 

Continue reading “Chapter 1: Baby Boo”

Preamble To “Kookaburra Me”

An excerpt from ‘Kookaburra Me– Copyright © 2020 by Michael A. Kuch


“Not Funny, Kook!”

None of the Beautiful Shit masquerading as Mia Dolce Vita was my idea, except Part III – Act VII, the penultimate scene where I perish – or do I? – in a Shiitake mushroom plume of ash, vapor and chunks of molten lava at the smoldering base of Mauna Loa … a reluctant Mannchylde Martyr hedging on a big, fat promise to save Humanity from it’s nasty-assed self while a paparazzo potschkes with the lens cap and misses the Magma Enchilada exploding on my impromptu photo bomb.

Continue reading “Preamble To “Kookaburra Me””

Cupid’s A Chubby Little Asshole …


Preservation Of Selfdom … Takes The Cake, Swallows The Enchilada Whole, And Whacks-A-Mole-Otta-The-Piñata … Cryptically-Speaking.

My First, My Last, My Only Option … Is To Bet On Self, Again – It’s Called Faith, Darling – But, That’s Not A Gamble Now Is It?

Whenever I Slip, Slide Away From God’s Cradle Searching For My True Authentic Self (Yawn, Gulp, Boo-Hoo, Yadacetera) … He Pulls Me Back In, Time’s Me Out, Says (Paraphrase The Divine / #Blasphemous):

“Listen You Little Shit … Don’t Fuck This Up, Again!”


“I Don’t Love Easily Or Necessarily Well Enough All The Way To The End, But My Starts Are A Thing Of Wonder And Beauty … Hell There It Was – Unknowable As Ever Staring Me In The Eyes – Love’s Bad Timing Is Asshole Cupid’s Unfunny Practical Joke …

Where’d It Come From? – Poof – Where’d It Go?  I Hardly Knew Ya.

Photo by Eric Montanah from Pexels

I Was Wrong About Love 3.0


Not This Time … Same As The Last Time …

It Came Easy – As It Should – Though I Didn’t See It For What It Was (Beautiful) And Fought It Every Slip Of The Way.

This Mess Is On Me … All Over My Face … In The Sheets … Right There.

“I’ll Be Fine, Really … Yeah, It Hurts … I Needed Another Fucking Heartbreak.”

Ice Cream & Waffles


Love Needs Love Is What I Said To Myself When I Should’ve Told Her:

“I Love You …”

But, I Didn’t – Scaredy-Cat … Chicken-Shit … Little Twit … Fuckheaded Dimwit … Knucklehead Nitwit … Gone-Gone, Baby – At That Very Moment Where Life Taps You In The Nuts To Man-The-Fuck-Up And Get-The-Three-Words-The-Fuck-Out …

“Happy Now?”

No, No.

“Is What She Said …”

Image by iSAW Company from Pixabay 

Love Gone, Baby


Here Goes … A Quiet Scream …

I Can’t Do This Anymore – My Mind Says So, That’s Who – My Heart Beat Me To It This Time … You Go Heart!

“None Of It … Soul Rat Me Out, You Fink Bastard, You Always Tell The Truth … Your Version, Anyway.”

A Blank Screen Yelling At Me? Me Staring Back. Sleeping With My Back To The Page … Irreconcilable Or Just Differences?


Bat Shit Style – Guano, Guano, Guano – Trying Singing It To Quando, Quando, Quando Like Sir Humperdinck Did, Or Not, Really Don’t …

All Good With It – The Bloody Indecision Is Over – Except Acceptance: Its Gone.

The Will. The Desire. In Me …

No, No, No.


Kuched Is Closing Up … Expiring On WordPress

I Hope For Good. I Hate Waking The Undead.

Going Out. Bangless. Bang-Starved. No More Banging The Drum.

“Something Better Around The Bend?”


Its A Heartbreaking Little Piece About No Peace In The Broken Heart Lost By The Promise Of Words Gone, Baby …

For Weeks I’ve Tried Writing Another Bit About Fighting Hunger … Because It Matters To Me And I Failed At Compassion, Which Never Happens. And, I Couldn’t Or Wouldn’t And Didn’t. Find My Voice To Speak My Passion.

” … n’t And Me … We’ll Never Be Friends.”

I’m Shooting Blanks And Even Then I’m Missing The Target, Which Doesn’t Make Any Damned Sense – See What I Mean? – Nothing’s Coming Out. It’s All Stuck Inside Where None Of It Means A Thing. Damned, Alright.



Empty – Is – All. All I Get, When I Get Nothing. But Wax Sans Poetic.

Blank Isn’t Enough To Sustain Me. Dreams Of What?

I’m Hungry. Lost My Appetite.

When I Hiccupped And Love Came To Town. I Blinked … Gone, Gone, Baby.


… For The Road. Remember Back When? When We Skipped The Light Fandango?

A Few More Dripples Of Drivel. Cryptic Cranial Cavity, I Need To Feed You.

We’ve Got Some Time Left. Together. This Is One Long Good Bye / Riddance.

Let’s Laugh While It Lasts.

Kooka, Kə-pēsh?


I’ll Bite Nearly Anything – If It Dangles Close Enough To My Pearly Grill – And Surrender To The Occasional Notion … That The Blogosphere Will Survive Nicely With Or Without My Acrimonious-cum-Sanctimonious-cum-Unctuous Offerings.

Though It’s Not Nearly Enough To Convince Either Of My Polarizing Alter Egos – Uppity Me Or My Shameless Self – That A Few Ripe Chapters Of Kookaburra Me Shouldn’t Find A Tidy Domicile On Kuched In The Coming Weeks.

Capisce – Kə-pēsh – Capeesh.

“So, What The Frangipane Is Kookaburra Me?”

Continue reading “Kooka, Kə-pēsh?”

Then It Broke Me …


Where True Pain Searches For Comfort Under The Weight Of Unbearable Loss.

It Hit Me A Couple Hours Later: My Soul Folded, Emotions Collapsed Onto Me, My Heart Buckled, Losing Composure And The Feigned Strength Of A Man Weakened, Escaped … As I Read His Message Posted Days Earlier – Knowing He Was Gone, Gone, Gone …

Forty-Four Years Of Friendship? Its Not Enough, Father. Still, Thank You, For Him. For Life Back Then – Memories Of Back When – For The Moments Now, And For Those That’ll Never Come.

Peace Be With You, Dear MB – Love You, Always Have, You Were Right Back In Time About The Day That Came Too Soon … Painfully More In Absentia – Brother-My-Brother …

Image by Goran Horvat from Pixabay

The Hurr(a)y Up & Wait, What Just Happened?


I’m Not Quite Sure “How This Cluster-Dump-It-On-Mick” Situation Came To Be …

Specifically, How-In-The-Everglades I Inherited The Honor And Implied Obligation Of Hosting Thanksgiving Dinner Today, Because Antsy-Pants Canadians Need To Do This Charade On The Second Monday Of October Getting A Sizeable Jump – International Bragging Rights – On Their American Cousins South Of The Border By 45 Days.

I’d Like To See A Saw-Off And Both Countries Come Up With A Mediated Settlement Of Joint Turkey/Tofurky Holidays On Or Around The Half Way Point.

“Oooopsy – That’s Halloween On October 31 – Scrap That Idea, Darling.”


Hey, I Know … It’s The Worst Kept Secret Since My Half-Year (Annual 0.5’er) Extravaganza Last April – Has Seen At Least Three Different Itineraries Planned And Pooped Out.

I Can Point Fingers At My Immediate Family; However, They’re Not Entirely Receptive To The Idea Of Blame, And The Fleshy Digits Will Inevitably Lead Back To Me – My Big Mouth – And The Voluntary Sucker For Self-Flagellation In The Kitchen.

“In The Interim, I’ve Been Ornery As One Can Be, Being Laid Up From My Allegiance To Quasi-Vaxxy-Friendliness, I Confess …”

I Was Pricked Twice By Nurse Smiley On Thursday For Vaccinations Meant To Ward Off Hepatitis A & Hepatitis B (Twinrix) And Shingles (Shingrix) – So, My Plans To Spend A Night Away Got Quashed In The Scrotum And Other Areas Of The Under Carriage, Because The Side Affects Of Two Shots To My Shoulders Left Me Feeling Uneasy Queasy.


Are Converging On The Grotto At 4 PM …

In An Couple Of Minutes I’ll Be At The Kitchen … Spotify On … Looking For My Mind And Where To Begin To Unravel The Royal Heap Of Non-Prepared Food Stuff In Front Of Me: Contemplating A Massive Smoked Ham (Bone In) And Turkey (Boneless – New To Me – Didn’t Know A Certain Flock Of Turkey’s Are Born Sans Bones, But That’s The Beauty Of Science, Sorcery And Cookery).

And Their Friendly Side Kicks: Potatoes (Mashed, Skins On) – Roasted Brussel Sprouts (Flown In Direct From Belgium) And Tre-Colored Carrots (Orange, Yellow And Let’s Go With Purple) – Mixed Salad – And Assorted Why Bother? Accoutrements (Stuffing, Cranberry Sause, Yadacetera). Plus, Whatever Desserts The Lads Are Bringing. I’ve Probably Missed A Few Items.

“Regret Comes To Mind – I’m Wiped Already – Here’s A Smile.”

Image by Alexas Fotos from Pixabay

Want to Get the Ultimate Handwritten Set of Thank You Notes? — Borden’s Blather

Then you’ve come to the right place. I first wrote about the wonderful non-profit organization, DonorsChoose, over five years ago. In fact, it is one of the posts that were part of my initial foray into blogging through a 30-day challenge. Here is a bit of an excerpt from that post: Imagine making a donation […]

Want to Get the Ultimate Handwritten Set of Thank You Notes? — Borden’s Blather

Sweddah Rosso


Until I Read … Heard About … Possibly Added To … An Urban Myth That More Plumbers Drive Ferrari’s Than Lawyers.  Makes Sense To Everyone Except Attorneys.  Because Nothing Goes Better With Butt Cleavage Than Corso Rosso The Iconic Ferrari Racing Red — The Only Color Of The Famed Italian Marque Its Fickle Fanboy Tifosi Wear. Continue reading “Sweddah Rosso”

“Inspiring Your Best Self”



Emma Ortega Negrete’s Blog – “Inspiring Your Best Self” – Is The Author’s Insatiable Drive To Champion Life … Fighting Through Unimaginable Hardships And Pain … Fortified In God’s Love And Her Deep Devotion To Being One’s Authentic Self … Delivered With All The Subtlety Of KA-BOOM, BITCH! Continue reading ““Inspiring Your Best Self””

“Writer Of Words, Etc.”



Claudette Labriola’s Blog – “Writer Of Words, Etc.” – Is The Writer’s Satirical Expose Chronicling The Tribulations Of Parenting And Domestic Life For What It Truly Is: Living Hell, Anchored By Morning Coffee Perks And Evening Wine “Calm-The-Fuck-Down” Decompression Sessions … With A Few Sweet-Ass MeanMom™ Rantrums Squeezed In.     Continue reading ““Writer Of Words, Etc.””

What’s The Question?


I’ve Given The Correct Answers Below … 

“Yes, They’re Arbitrary.  Despotic, C’mon Now Don’t Be Like That?  Random Enough.”

Your Turn To Be The Q.

… Shouldn’t Be Hard.  G’Head, Don’t Be Shy.  … Ask The Questions Like No One’s Reading?



“… Because It Felt Good At The Time, That’s Why.”


” … Anyway, I Didn’t Know The Guy Was A Real Cop.”


” … True.”


” … Because I Thought This Stuff Stayed In Vegas.”


“… I Swear It Looked Ripe To Me.”


Image by Mylene2401 from Pixabay


Awesome Blogger Award


For This Wonderful Accolade And Nomination … 

Sovely Is The Creative Soul Of MurmelMeister.

“A Blog So Passionately Crafted To Reward The Reader With Blossoms Of Love, Music, Poetry, Soul Food … Infused With An Unfettered Awakening And Celebration Of The True Human Spirit.”

So, There’s A Sunshine, Liebster, Special, Barnabas (In-Waiting), And Now, An Awesome Blogger Award Nomination To Crowd My Virtual Mantel Of Blogging Bling.  Grazie, Darlings.


“This is an award for the Absolutely Wonderful Writers all across the blogging world.  They have beautiful blogs, are kind and lovely, and always find a way to add happiness and laughter to the lives of their readers.  That is what truly defines an awesome blogger.”

  1. Thank the person who nominated you.
  2. Tag the post with #awesomebloggeraward.
  3. Answer the questions you were asked.
  4. Nominate at least 5 bloggers and inform them of their nomination.
  5. Give them 10 new questions to answer.

When are you happiest?  The time I spend with my two sons, Uno e Dewey.  Writing.  Praying.  Supporting the Daily Bread Food Bank.  

Do you prefer happiness or challenging situations?  I’m almost always in a happy mood, frequently bordering on natural euphoria – must be the sweet pheromones jacked up inside – except for moments of other normal emotions that get in the way of permanence.  Happiness is fleeting, finicky, and unfulfilling beyond a momentary flight of self-satisfying random occurences, which isn’t sustainable.  I don’t pursue, or often think about, happiness.  It simply exists for me.  I don’t miss it if it’s slumbering or absent.  It always comes back when it needs a heart to hug and a mind to play with … Happiness may be something as innocuous as ice cream melting.  Laughing after crying.  Playing with my dog.  A warm or cool breeze.  Challenging situations appeal when there is a drive to attain a desired goal, result or achievement.  I strive for Purpose, Truth In Self, Wisdom Beyond Knowledge, Potentiality Of Love and Personal Betterment … omnipresent challenges, never-ending.  

What is the best thing happening to you past week?  Forging through an extended period of creative voids and abstinence to allow a story to permeate within me – honoring the process to nurture rather than forcing unnecessary words for the sake of writing – then hitting a moment of creative bliss where it abundantly spilled onto the pages as though I had discovered a secret passage into an inspirational sanctum.

What is the most useful thing you own?  My Mind.  My Hands.  My Heart.  My Imagination.  My Faith.  My Self.  My Strength.  My Sense Of Humor … Library Card.  Brita Water Filter.  Plumbing.  NH95 Face Mask.

For what in your life do you feel most grateful?  God’s Grace and Forgiveness.  My Mother’s lifetime of unselfishness and sacrifice for her children.  Mio Ragazzi. 

What makes you laugh the most?  My dog.  My sublime idiocy and self-deprecating humor.  Things I say aloud when I’m alone.  Mocking myself.  I’ve always made myself laugh.  I think I’m humorous, though I’m not sure …   

What is something you like to do that other people would probably consider “weird” if they knew?  I often go to see films alone.  I dance when I’m alone to my curated Spotify playlists.  I use purifying facial masks a couple times a year as a devout and practicing Metrosexual Man.  Also, I’ve given myself a deplorable (unspeakable) nickname to keep me humble … because humility is Self Love.  I’ve trimmed my hair twice during the pandemic.   

What was the most thoughtful gift you made?  I was about 7 or 8 years old and I had crafted a paper necktie in school for Father’s Day … Thoughtful, wishful, perhaps back then only because I’ve never met my father.   

What’s the best topping/ice cream combination?  My lips are the topping … over Chocolate Tartufo.

What’s your idea of heaven & hell?  Life on Earth.  It’s the same place.  We’re simultaneously co-habitating in the delusion of Good and Evil, though we’re all too preoccupied with nonsense, ignorance and hoarding 2-ply bleached tree bark to tell the difference … and, even if we could, would we really know what to do about it?

How do you feel about diversity?  For Millennia, Drones Of Social Engineering – Religion, Government, Education, Military, Media – have persecuted courageous individuals and groups merely wanting to be recognized and valued for their inherent differences.  Shame on The Institutional Whores masquerading as Leaders of Humanity.  Future generations will live a truer, authentic existence … until Artificial Intelligence usurps their freedom and liberties, and then the Neo-Persecuted will wax poetic about the Good Old Days when Humans had the right to hate, judge, ridicule, slaughter and enslave one another instead of being censored, cloned, euthanized and de-Humanized by a herd of fuckless robots.  So, be as different, as genuine, as unique, as blessedly purposeful … as singular as God Created you.  

What is your most favorite blog post that did not get enough attention yet?  “In Me Still …” was soul-effacing to write and share publicly.  It’s the closest script to poetry I’ve ever written and recounts a dark childhood trauma … decidedly cryptic, I’m unconvinced it revealed the truth entirely.

What’s your favorite question to ask?  “What’s Your True Purpose in Life?” … “How Can I Help?” … “Didn’t I Pay Last Time?”

What was the meanest thing you’ve ever done?  Lied about the truth.  Killed an insect.  Hurt people emotionally who care about me …

Which jobs would you like to try out, if you had a chance?  Priest (Confessions and Exorcisms only).  Film Director.  Architect (during The Renaissance).  Organic Farmer.  Sign Painter.  Dirty Dancer.  Surfer.  Typography Designer / Font Artist.  Namer Of IKEA Products.  Millennial Whisperer.  Crafter of Artisanal – Small Batch – Kitty Litter.

You’re good at? Short List:  Quick wit.  Making myself laugh.  Telling the truth.  Holding hands.  Chivalry.  Ironing shirts.  Making homemade … Bolognese sauce, Jambalaya, Chilli, Beans & Rice, Kasha, Omelets, Oatmeal, Lasagne, Espresso … Kissing.  Free-style Dancing.  Pinching fat babies.  Flossing the hard to right spots.  Pouring a nice head on a Lager.  Annoying friends.  Getting out of bed.  Foreplay.  Making up new words.  Screwing up grammar.  Using a Corkscrew.  Snorting when I laugh.  Shaking my head.  Cloaking my heart when I’m smitten … Watching movies.  Doodling.  Staring at people in public.  Blinking.  Counting backwards.  Mocking.  Telepathy.  Empathy.  Crying in church.  Day Dreaming.  Shadow Puppets.  Modesty/Immodesty.  Being an asshole when I’m cranky.  Drinking from a glass.  Throwing snowballs.  Losing focus when I’m bored.  Pretending to listen.  Asking questions when I already know the answer.  Falling asleep.  Not caring/Over caring.  Answering questions when I don’t know the answers … Writing cryptic, random nonsense, then tapping publish on my blog.

  1. What’s wrong with you?
  2. Do you prefer pie or cake?
  3. Can you be trusted with a lie?
  4. What’s your favorite swear word?
  5. Are you better at kissing or writing?
  6. Have you ever mistaken Lust for Love?
  7. When was the last time you slow danced?
  8. Is there something you’d like to tell the world?
  9. Who would win in a fight: Godzilla or Hello Kitty?
  10. What musical instrument do you look like the most?
  11. What’s your first impression when you look in a mirror?
  12. Have you ever worn underwear from a person of the opposite sex?
  13. Finish this sentence anyway you like: “Bartholomew, I don’t know any damned Bartholomew …”
  14. Do you think Ecru deserves to be a distinct color, or should it just go back to a being a miserable shade of boring-ass Beige and lose its uppity-as-fuck attitude just because it’s friends with Taupe?

Truly Awesome Are My 5 Chosen Nominees Of Impossibly Gifted Writers And Bloggers I Follow Regularly:

Image by Canva

Next | Next

(Repost) by Sovely Matters from MurmelMeister


“Human beings have the ability to adapt.  We are curious.  We investigate, are driven to understand and learn.  We wanna influence, create and develop.  A life on pause – impossible. In case there are situations that are difficult to deal with, we are looking for a solution.  If we can’t find one, we are searching for a different way out. Sometimes we ask for help.  The life we are living is relying on the assumption, that there always is tomorrow and we will make it there.  Maybe it is the limit of life time, that makes life interesting and enjoyable.  How would life be like, if this limit would not exist?”

Read Full Post via NEXT || NEXT

Photo by Sovely Matters

Liebster Award Nomination


You Know-ish Me … I Said Awhile Back I Was Retiring From Blogging Award Noms.  I Have.  Nothing’s Changed.  Until I Get Another One.  This Is It.

So, Here I Am Humbled By The Liebster Award Nomination – And, A Couple Others I’ve Placed On Chill For The Moment – Mumbling On …

My Sincerest Thank You And Appreciation To Christina Kyranis For The Nomination.  Check Out Christina Kyranis Relationship Coach at  Here’s A Sampling Of Her Awesomeness In Writing:

“… Sharing can be a powerful healing tool. Once we can share our feelings we can begin to make room for change. Rather than feeling controlled by our circumstances and negative emotions, we can take back our power and begin to see that we posses the ability to improve.”

  • Thank the blogger who nominated you, and provide a link to their blog.
  • Answer the 11 questions given to you.
  • Share 11 facts about yourself.
  • Nominate 5-11 other bloggers.
  • Ask your nominees 11 questions.
  • Notify your nominees once you have uploaded your post


  1. What is your greatest life lesson so far? It’s simple and juvenile … Don’t ever play with matches. Actually, small pumpkins carved into Jack O’Lanterns with a burning candle. I did once and burned the underside of a mattress when I was about 8 or 9. Also, never distrust God. I’ve done it. Didn’t end well for me. Woman’s Scorn. Avoid that at all costs.
  2. What is your favorite pass time? Writing, foremost. Also, I dance quite a bit by myself, too. I enjoy cooking – the entire process, from planning, shopping, preparing … to serving, eating, enjoying … cleaning up. All of it.
  3. What has been your greatest challenge in the past month? 1) Lip-synching Bohemian Rhapsody underwater in my bathtub. I got as far as bubbles. 2) Darting Covidiots while shopping for groceries. 3) Writing anything that I wanted to keep and publish.
  4. What is your ideal romantic relationship look like? An idyllic balance of shared conversation, laughter always, trust in everything, willingness to explore any possibility of the moment and beyond … learning from each other … and fun stuff together: cooking, traveling, sexy time and play dates together. I identify as a Sapiosexual, so intellect rates high on desirability in a prospective romantic partner.
  5. Share one thing you’ve never shared before about yourself. I’ve never donated blood. I’ve always had an aversion to needles, but slowly over the past couple years, I’ve warmed to the idea and am committed to giving one day.
  6. What’s your definition of friendship? There’s a small conclave of Good Men that I have been friends – Brothers – with since high school and college. Our bonds, kinship and comradery are unbreakable.  Far deeper than trust, honor and respect. It is unknowable in words.
  7. Which is your best tv series? There have been a few over the years: The Sopranos, Breaking Bad, This Old House.
  8. What’s your favorite food to eat? 1) A bowl of warm oatmeal prepared with fresh berries, pepitas, chia seeds, ground flax, hemp hearts and Greek yoghurt. 2) Pasta (any style) 3) Fruit
  9. Chocolate or vanilla? Together, in a soft swirl cone.  I believe in Harmony.  Flavors blended.
  10. Are you an introvert or an extrovert? A balance of both; in certain groups, especially amongst old friends, family, and in social events, I tend to be more of an extrovert. Privately, or with new or unfamiliar company, I may lean toward introvert. I’m happy alone. Content in public.
  11. What are you most afraid of? Sudden death or dying alone in my sleep. I want to see it. Know it. Not be cheated out of it. I think it’s only fair. And, talk to God in my last moments.


  1. According to, my Spit-Test DNA suggests I’m a Mixed Bag of Tricks: primarily Italian, Polish and Ukrainian, but with enough variety – Scandinavian, French, North African, Iberian, Middle Eastern to claim World Citizen Status.
  2. I’m a Pacifist.  
  3. I’m a Sapiosexual.
  4. I’m a Flexitarian/Reducetarian.
  5. I’m a Hypo-Christian.
  6. I’m Happy.
  7. I’ve Discovered My True Purpose In Life
  8. I’ve Never Acted My Age.
  9. I’m presently in between Dilemmas and Conundrums.
  10. I love Linen.
  11. I like Cats and Dogs equally, but not always in that order.


  1. Borden’s Blather
  2. Endlesss Rivers
  3. GlitzyRitzyMommy
  4. JustPene
  5. LaShawn Uchenna Ani
  6. Letitgocoach
  7. Grateful Hearts


  1. If you were a shape, would you rather be a square, triangle, or circle?
  2. If you could change your first name, what would you call yourself?
  3. What does the world need: more love or less hate?
  4. Have you ever been mistaken for someone else?
  5. What’s your favorite Car Karaoke song to sing?
  6. Name one habit you would like to quit.
  7. How do you like your apples?
  8. What’s missing in your life?
  9. Favorite toy as a child?
  10. Salty or sweet tooth?
  11. Burial or cremation?