Kooky Lucy Frost (19)

   
   "Kooky Lucy Frost (19)"
   
   Kooky Lucy, back seeing the alternative psychiatrist, as always, face to face, her bottle of Purell neatly tucked into the pocket of her white bluejeans.
  
DOCTOR
So, you initially felt chemistry and positive sparks upon meeting Conor; however, after getting a whiff of his breath up your nostrils--you felt invaded?

LUCY
It wasn't like a garbage stink or anything.  It was just . . .

DOCTOR
Alien to you?

LUCY
More or less.

DOCTOR
Some people like to gel.  Others form tribes and separate, this being borders, language, and culture, as might Michael Savage say.  Maybe you need to find people like yourself.

LUCY
But he is like me.  He's kinda coyote weird, but not naughty.  Like a tame dog.  Domesticated.

DOCTOR
Anything you remember, verbally, that set you off in your past?

LUCY
Blew her dirty-blonde out of her face.  When I was 11 years old and at the Great Lakes with my teenage cousin Stevie, she said something very disturbing to me.  I was just a kid that liked STAR WARS and Spider-Man, and out of nowhere she asked me if I knew how a girl gets pregnant; next, goes onto tell me--a guy puts his pee-pee in her bum, and gravy comes out of his pee-pee, and a baby is made--I was totally freaked.  I haven't eaten gravy since.  Anything and everything about gravy disgusts me.  

DOCTOR
Thanksgiving must be a real bummer.

LUCY
I avoid it, like obese people with sweaty pits.  It's all freaking gravy to me.  Little kids with gravy coming out of their nose.  It's all gravy.

DOCTOR
G. Gordon Liddy conquered his fear of rats by killing one; then, he ate its left hindquarter, raw.

LUCY
You're saying that I should kiss Conor's gravy-making mouth?

DOCTOR
You want to, right?

LUCY
Not if he's got gravy in there.

   The Doctor actually laughed.  

5 Bad Asses In America

   
   "5 Bad Asses In America"

   I've thieved this, like a coyote, stealing fire from the gods, from the pussy of Pop-Culture; nevertheless, this is a solid approximation, though not axiomatic.
   
   1.)   Harry S. Truman--no college degree, the buck stops here, and nuclear power to save more lives than lose them.
   2.)   Hunter S. Thompson--more chemical imbalances than Johnny Depp in a hotel room, said he wanted to kill Bill Murray, road with the Hell's Angels, and loved to blow things up with shotguns and propane tanks.
   3.)   Bruce Lee--little, but the element of water was his power, submitting the best Chinese fighter to teach us Americans martial arts.  The Little Dragon, kicking your ass . . .  
   4.)   G. Gordon Liddy--a five year felon, didn't bleed Kool-Aid, master of Tiger Tai-Chi, could get a woman preggers by simply sitting next to her, and once a State Trooper pulled over his FBI Car, and as the Trooper got next to his car, G. Gordon turned on his federal siren; next, the Trooper jumped out of his skin; furthermore, G. Gordon showed him his FBI Badge, stating boldly:  "I got the big badge buddy."
   5.)   The American Coyote--one killed every sixty seconds, yet ten take its place.  Second unto the Great Spirit.  Longest hunt in recorded history, being over twenty hours; plus, when fox hunting was weak in America, the people decided to hunt the Little Wolf, and they chased a coyote for ten hours; next, upon returning home, they found the pestered coyote on their front porch, him humbly smiling at their lack of bull's eye and bullshit.
   Every dog has its day, and a good dog just might have two--Thomas Pynchon!!! 

Kooky Lucy Frost (18)

   
   "Kooky Lucy Frost (18)"
   
   Lucy prayed the Rosary with Pap; next, with Cleveland loyally @ her heels, she exited the house in sweat gear and hit the Buffalo asphalt within the suburban sprawl of it all, the holy hound never missing a beat of her thunderous Reeboks.
   As she pushed herself around the corner, all was dandy and the Sun tasted delicious upon her skin; then, a handsome, wiry guy with a buzzcut was approaching, walking slowly, with a weird gait, and Lucy felt no threat--just electric energy; at the same time, so did Cleveland--sprinting beyond Lucy's elegant gallop, in direction of the man, up to him and kissing with licks his lowered hands. 
   Lucy took it as a sign.  Sheltie's are intuitive, and she trusted Cleveland's sense of frequency; thus, she faced the man, eye to eye, having no phobias about it.  She noticed he had green eyes, with hints of gold, blue, and a smack of brown in the middle--a window into an intense soul.  She also noticed his chiseled jawline, his dark brow, his thick, full lips, and had a sense of romance.  How freaking weird for her, as if he was not unclean.
   "Hey."  The man said.  "My name is Conor."
   Lucy, without flinching, responded:  "I'm Lucy Frost--nice to meet you, guy."   

Kooky Lucy Frost (17)

   
   "Kooky Lucy Frost (17)"
   
   Kooky Lucy Frost jogged home with Cleveland at her levitating heels, the mental patient alive with an angel encounter, and Cleveland feeling the beat of her floating shoes, as if winged and aligned with super-symmetry ITSELF.
   Upon entering her house, Pap, as always, was sparking a cherry, and she quickly dashed to his distance, up close and personal, Cleveland wagging rapidly, and the beloved granddaughter spilled the news about the tall, blonde lady.  Pap asked:  "You're not going lesbo on me are you?  Not into eating tuna sandwiches?"
   Lucy was like:  "Pap, how gross.  Besides, the government tells women not to ever douche anymore.  Verily, the vaginal cavity in most women today is occupied by much bacteria; plus, you could find a piano up there."
   They both shared the synergy of a good laugh, raising their vibrations.  Pap then stated:  "I know your Pap shouldn't be saying such raunchy things, but I'm not dead yet."
   Lucy with:  "Pap, you're a solid Orthodox Christian, but Christ even had His joys."
   "That, He did--and still does.  He'll be back, separating the wheat from the chaff with the winnowing fork; indeed, He'll be back Lucy."  

Kooky Lucy Frost (16)

   
   "Kooky Lucy Frost (16)"
   
   Kooky Lucy, with more "tics" than a Dalmatian @ a dog park, nervously wended her weird way into the market to get some Icelandic water and bean sprouts.  It was as if she could feel all the emotions of the shoppers, the ups and downs, the overwhelming hysteria of a mutated mankind.
   She focused on herself, who she was, and her mission--just two items; next, get the hell out of there.  She wanted to go through automatic checkout as always--less contagion; however, upon noticing a tall blonde woman, blonder than her, and with eyes emerald green, brighter than her forest green, she felt cleanliness and kinship, as if an angelic sister was there to protect her.
   She didn't wish to be golden blonde and not dirty blonde, or have emerald green eyes and not her forest green eyes, for deep down she loved herself, getting more of a hint of who she actually was.

Simon

Run!