Would you mind reading one of my books?
Thank you.

Dung beetles always wake up with a shitty taste in their mouth, and they're okay with it, because that's just how they roll.

We should all be thankful that Julius Caesar wasn't a premature ejaculater, because, "I came" isn't much of a quote.

I remember when I was 7...
Bright-eyed, innocent, joyous, fun-loving, curious, giving, caring (especially for my sister)...
Some of those things persist, some do not.
Time and experience giveth...
and then taketh away.

All in all, I wish I was 7 again.

I was happy back then.

All I have is a hello.
Hello.

Maple buds, Buds.

Good evening

Ants are truly amazing on so many levels.
They can plummet from a height equivalent to us falling several hundred stories onto concrete and just keep on trucking.
I could drone on about ants for hours.

You piss me off!
I love you.
Why were you even born?!
I'm proud of you.
Could you have underachieved more?
I celebrate how hard you've tried and continue to try.
I need a holiday from you!
I believe in the goodness of my authentic self.
Why don't you quite, LOSER?!
I won't quit.

We all know the signs of the Zodiac, but yours is named after the color of your underpants and the last song you listened to or show you watched.
GO!

Cicadas emerge every 13 to 17 years to have sex and pee a lot.

Holy fuck, I'm a cicada!

Pick up one of my books and make my Sunday.

Good evening from Cape Breton.

Long ago, armies fought face-to-face, with leaders often taking the field, and, occasionally, leading the charge. Now, death is delivered from afar - via shell, missile, or drone - by people behind fine desks & exquisite tapestries, who, somehow, sleep well with their decisions.

Has anyone calculated the ecological footprint of munitions?
For example, Gaza, which is about the size of Boston, has been subjected to the equivalent of ~ 4 Hiroshima nukes.
Setting aside the slaughter of the innocent, what % of the Earth is being raped for each 2000-pd bomb?

I'm still here.
I'm still trying my best.
Tell me that means something.

Grief doesn't adhere to timelines.
It happens when it happens.
It's okay to cry.
It really is.

My dear dad died fourteen months ago.
A large chunk of me died then too.
We were so much alike, he and I.
Walk, talk, how we laughed...
It hurts every single day.
:( I don't have children.
Didn't sew any crops.
I'm now dead inside.
I so miss you dad.
I'll see you soon.
💟, your son.
Forever.

Your book review, even if short and simple, is worth its weight in gold to an Indie writer.

Apropos of nothing, I have a wee garden gnome that has bigger hands than Donald Trump.