Friday, June 30, 2017

Postcard #157: "Missing you..."


Sent to Fosforito!  

My friends Patty and Drew came out to visit.  We took a trip up to Snoqualmie to check out some Twin Peaks locations.

Postcard #156: "I farted..."


Sent to my friend JB RN.

Text: I farted.  I am not proud of that fact but, it happened.  I was alone in a room cleaning it up after surgery.  No cases to follow.  Perhaps I felt safe?  In a room adjacent to the OR, a coworker knocked on the door and gave me a friendly middle finger through the glass and smiled.  I walked over dragging the shame cloud of my flatulence with me.  It carried a familiar smell I could not place.  I opened the door and he was checking the shelves for outdated product.  My guilty conscious urged me to speak. "In an effort to meet full disclosure...I just farted. It's pretty bad." He replied, "Is that why it smells like McDonald's in here?" I laughed.  It did.  Like a large order of fries.

Wednesday, May 3, 2017

Postcard #155: "St. Reagan"



Eh.  Sent to someone...

Text:
I don’t know about you but I am so proud that St. Reagan fixed all the gender issues in America during his time in office. Don’t you?

god bless.

T.M.

Monday, May 1, 2017

Postcard #154: "Still Life"




Sent to LV who I felt needed to have a laugh.  

Text:
After retirement my mother worked her way through all the “active senior” art classes my local college had to offer. This was the final project for her landscapes class. My family refers to this as the last of the “normal stuff”. After she took the figure drawing course things started to get surreal. She learned how much she liked veins. All the figures she painted had obvious apparent veins on them. With each iteration the veins got bigger. She no longer drew full figures...tending to focus on particular body parts. Veiny hands. Forearms. Necks. The veins in the temples and forehead. So many varicose vein addled legs...so many. Then something broke. Enormous breasts with dark green bulging veins - broken switchbacks working up to eerily lifelike aureolas. For Christmas, my mother presented my father a painting she worked on all autumn. After peeling back the brown paper to reveal a painfully engorged close up of the shaft of a penis, the room fell silent. Admittedly there was extraordinary detail in the vessels of the prick you’d think the jute rope thick veins were pulsating. My father hung it above the toilet. It’s still there to this day.


Postcard #153: "Game"



Sent via postcrossing to BYCA

Text:
“Game”
It’s midnight, I’m off tomorrow but I am awake fighting to keep my eyes open. The video game I am playing, I beat two days ago. SPOILER ALERT! There are two endings. The planet is slowly changing all those on it…so you can activate a bomb which will destroy the entire planet killing you and everyone else or...you can also let the planet grow to its full potential which I think represents the spanse of all knowledge which instead traps everyone including the ships in orbit...presumably for eternity. Perhaps it’s a metaphor? Being a game completionist I am now playing for the last achievements. To get 100% I have to spend 60 minutes within the in game mazes. I have to be moving to get credit. I have found everything in the mazes and I am literally wandering around aimlessly because I have no aim or goal beyond simply walking around to drive up the clock. In essence I could turn it off thereby “blowing it up” but no, I am trapped… Moving back and forth within tight dizzying mazes I have already mapped out and unraveled to prove to the game I am capable of being lost.

Postcard #152: "Grimm"


Sent to Laura C.

Text: This was found and purchased at the “Grimm” estate sale.  I have no clue if it was featured in any episodes.  There was a lot of stuff.  They must have sent people out to buy stuff from goodwill's or flea markets.  Many of the items still had price tags on them.  I bought belts for a furniture piece I have been working on.  I few jackets that may or may not have been worn by Hank or Monroe.  A mug that may or may not have been in Rosalee’s hands in a morning scene.  A few flannels that may or may not have had a dead wesen in them at some point.  I have yet to finish the show...and they stopped filming and the series finale was a few weeks ago.  I do not like the show as I much as I used to earlier on the show.  It feels like the show is on its way to ending poorly.  “Juliette” is putting on her leather jacket and she is revving her motorcycle; getting in position for a sixth season shark jump.  

Sunday, April 30, 2017

Postcard #151: "Creepy"


Sent via postcrossing to DubbleL13

Text:

I don’t know why I said it.  The picture of the dog stuck out among all my political post and news reports. A picture of a small dog.  Its mouth is open in such a way that it sort of looks like it is grinning. “Cuuuuuuute!” “(: OH EM GEE!” I saw my mouse move over the words “Write a comment…” The caption reads “ZOMG! SO CUTE <3 <3”  I type the words “Looks delicious.”  She unfriended me.  Mutual friends asked me “Why did you say that? It was creepy.” I had no answer, it really could not have been THAT delicious honestly.