"Happy Endings" by Margaret Atwood
You know-- they all live happily ever after type of ending... or not so much.
Read it.
http://users.ipfw.edu/ruflethe/endings.htm

Clean/Dirty Joke

Want to hear a clean joke?
A little boy took a bath with bubbles.
Want to hear a dirty joke?
Bubbles was the old lady next door.


(shout out to Cass Ass. Holla back!)

Sense Part Two (installment #15)

Sense: Part II I write. Most often it goes unread, only a lucky few get to skim. This is a piece I've been working on for some time now--not sure if it will be a short story or much longer. It's a work in progress. Suggestions and constructive criticism are welcome. Working title- Sense Installment # 15 (continued from Feb.21st)

Litsa and Pete sit in the middle of the circle, there is tension and not much physical attraction. He’s wearing those jeans that are tattered at the bottom by his Airmax sneakers. He’s tan and all I can think of is how he was supposed to be my first kiss, but I’m not angry. I’m not disappointed, I’m surprised it didn’t turn out the way I planned, and Margarita isn’t even here. I'm back in the room, with Litsa and Pete and they're face-to-face.
His hand, on her cheek, pulls her in, she puckers and closes her eyes and their lips merely touch. I plan on counting the seconds, but before I finish pronouncing one, they are done. It’s all over. There was no tongue involved, it was a peck and deep down I am thrilled, as is Litsa. The couple pulls out of the middle of the circle and the bottle travels to Harry’s hands. He spins a wimpy spin that goes around only three times and lands on Pete. I am talking to Erica about how much better my kiss was when I hear my name.
“What am I doing?” I ask.
Harry gets upset I didn’t hear him the first time. His hands hit his waist and rest there, an angry school teacher ready to reprimand, “You have to go into the bathroom with Peter for ten minutes. Ellena will be the witness.”
Everyone is asking questions.
“What will they have to do?”
“What is Ellena going to do?”
“Why can’t we all see?”
Ellena looks at Harry quite disapprovingly, “I don’t want to be locked up in a bathroom with them. I’ll wait outside.”

Fingers of Fate

Lord only knows when I wrote this. In college some time...I am assuming in one of my creative writing classes, or else in Greek Lit. I always felt inspired after reading Cavafy, Seferi and Gatsos. This must be at least 6 or 7 years old. I'd like to revisit this and revise it soon. For now--the original.


Fingers of Fate
H. Sideris

"We'll go for a walk if you like."

Her skin, so fair, I felt I could read her every vein word for word...
Drizzled and twisted like a bracelet around her wrist.
If you had seen what she was wearing that night...
A dress that made me so dizzy;
Like a labyrinth, it
Wrapped her like a natural scent of lilac and chamomile.

"Why, do you want company?" she looked strangely in my eyes.

Her fingers, pianists fingers,
were covered with nicotine

like a glove

I wanted to hold them.


"What would we say?" she asked again quickly.

"We could go out for coffee, eat some pasta, smoke some cigarettes. Do you smoke?"

"What does a girls have to say to a boy? Don't you know that men and women were created so that they have absolutely nothing to say to each other. They speak only when they grow old and they can no longer make love." Her voice hardened as she said the last few words.

"We don't have to talk. Maybe I could hold your hand?" I asked, still stirred by the last comment.

"I can't," she sunk her head into her scarf wrapped around her shoulders and neck, "besides, I don't smoke either."

She turned and began to walk away. I didn't stop her, nor could I, with the watchful eyes above her.
I wanted to push fate out of the way, face down in the gutter
let her fall into my arms.
Instead I watched
Her stained hands dipped firmly into her pockets.
Her dress following close behind her,
curling around her knee
barely grazing the scar adorning her calf.

Happy St. Patty's!

St. Patty's day makes me think of limericks.
Here are some for a good laugh. Have a pint and enjoy the best thing the Irish have to offer next to U2.

(orginal Sideris material)
Guy from Prague
There once was a guy from Prague.
Who jabbed little guys with his hog.
"We've had enough,"
They said with a puff.
And ripped the hog off with a log.

Man from Yemen
There once was a man from Yemen.
Whose balls were so big he could bounce 'em.
He said with a smirk,
As his arm gave a jerk,
"Want to play ball? You can catch them."

Guy named Greg
There once was a pauper named Greg
Who accidentally broke his left leg.
He slipped on the ice
Not once, but thrice
Take no pity on him, I beg.

Boy from uphill
There once was a boy from uphill.
Who'ld slide down for mere thrill.
One day it was quite icy,
Although he smirked nicely
He slid by screaming "I'm ill."

(Samples- not mine. That's why these are funny.)
Lady named Jill
There was a horny young lady named Jill,
Who fucked dynamite sticks for a thrill.
They found her vagina
In North Carolina
And bits of her tits in Brazil!

Old Man of Ely
There was an old man of Ely
Who spoke to his wife in Swahili;
For as she could speak
Only English and Greek,
He could use it to swear at her freely.

Woman named Jeannie
There was a young woman named Jeannie
Who sobbed to her date, "You're a meanie.
You claim you're a stud
But, oh, what a dud!
Your prick is a real teeny-weeny."

Man from Cheaney
There once was a man from Cheaney
Who spilled some gin on his weenie.
Lacking in couth,
He added vermouth
And slipped his wife a martini!

Winter Poem

by Nikki Giovanni

once a snowflake fell

on my brow and i loved

it so much and i kissed

it and it was happy and called its cousins

and brothers and a web

of snow engulfed me then

i reached to love them all

and i squeezed them and they became

a spring rain and i stood perfectly

still and was a flower

Words can define ...

The Archipelago of Kisses
Jeffrey McDaniel

We live in a modern society. Husbands and wives don't grow
on trees, like in the old days. So where
does one find love? When you're sixteen it's easy—
like being unleashed with a credit card
in a department store of kisses. There's the first kiss.
The sloppy kiss. The peck.
The sympathy kiss. The backseat smooch. The we shouldn't
be doing this kiss. The but your lips
taste so good kiss. The bury me in an avalanche of tingles kiss.
The I wish you'd quit smoking kiss.
The I accept your apology, but you make me really mad
sometimes kiss. The I know
your tongue like the back of my hand kiss. As you get older,
kisses become scarce. You'll be driving
home and see a damaged kiss on the side of the road,
with its purple thumb out. If you
were younger, you'd pull over, slide open the mouth's ruby door
just to see how it fits. Oh where
does one find love? If you rub two glances together, you get
a smile; rub two smiles, you get
a spark; rub two sparks together and you have a kiss. Now
what? Don't invite the kiss
to your house and and answer the door in your underwear. It'll get
suspicious and stare at your toes.
Don't water the kiss with whisky. It'll turn bright pink and explode
into a thousand luscious splinters,
but in the morning it'll be ashamed and sneak out of your body
without saying goodbye,
and you'll remember that kiss forever by all the little cuts it left
on the inside of your mouth. You must
nurture the kiss. Dim the lights. Notice how it illuminates
the room. Clutch it to your chest,
wonder if the sand inside every hourglass comes from a special
beach. Place it on the tongue's pillow,
then look up the first recorded French kiss in history: beneath
a Babylonian olive tree in 1300 B.C.
But one kiss levitates above all the others. The intersection
of function and desire. The I do kiss.
The I'll love you through a brick wall kiss. Even when
I'm dead, I'll swim through the earth
like a mermaid of the soil, just to be next to your bones.

Random Reasons I Hate People

My most recent rant on reasons I hate certain people.

1. They smell funny. And it's not a body odor smell, or a wrong perfume for their body chemistry smell....just one of those food and shampoo smell all mixed together with a hint of coffee.
2. Inconsiderate folks whose actions say "fuck you" but whose words avoid any confrontation.
3. Incessant talking... stories I've heard before, about people I don't know, on topics I could give a goat's nuts about.
4. Those who insist on being right, when they really know they're wrong.
5. People who are always the victim. "Oh feel sorry for me. My life is tough and I got a paper cut this morning." Boo-fucking-hoo. I'm as compassionate as the new fella, but when will you stop being the victim and get the hell on with your life. We're all dealt difficult hands in life and you know what we do? We roll with what we're given.
6. People who try to finish my sentences. They're my sentences, don't try to finish them. Makes me talk faster to get it out before they try to add on the ending of every other word. Makes me want to think of unusual words and directions for the sentences to go in. Throw them off.
7. "Oh boo hoo I am so poor. I can't go out to dinner or spend the way you do, but did you see my new ride and oh, I just needed a new cell phone along with all these dvds and video games and of course I can't live without my tivo...
8. People who think they can be sarcastic with me the first time I meet them. If I say, "Nice meeting you." Your response should be, "Same here." Not "The pleasure was NOT mine." You know what response you'll get from me? One that goes like this, "Fuck off."
9. Those who discourage themselves and others.
10. Close talkers. I can hear you just as well from over there. You don't need to use my nose as a mike.

Waters out. Hill in. Only one way to go...UP.