• Who We Are

  • Schedule

    Mondays ~
    Tuesdays ~ Snarky
    Wednesdays ~ Dreamer
    Thursdays ~ Naughty
    Fridays ~ Dreary
    Saturdays ~
    Sundays ~

    Whenever ~ Smokey, Mighty, Eerie and Wicked

  • Snarky’s Tweets

  • Kinetic’s Tweets

  • Dreamer’s Tweets

  • Wicked’s Tweets

  • Eerie’s Tweets

  • Mighty’s Tweets

Greetings and Salutations,

We are coming to you today, live from the Swamp.  As to where I was last week we’ll address that if there’s time.  Suffice to say that life happens if we’re lucky, and we get to live it if we’re paying attention.  I promised an update on my neighbors and friends, so hold on to your slimy seats, Desperate Housewives has got nothing on us.  

Let’s start with the reigning Queen of the Swamp.  As you know the Swamp Thing has been in recovery for some time now from her addiction to swamp gas.  The problem is that in her sobriety she has taken on a less than completely honest approach.  Her self centeredness still reigns supreme in her life, and that is reeking havoc in the Thing home.  Mr. Swamp Thing has left the building ladies and gentlemen and the void has to be filled.  Everyone runs for cover when The Queen makes an appearance.  Much like in Wonderland where the Queen of Hearts is always offing someones head,  Swamp Thing is biting off their heads.  That is NOT a figurative term.  There are many a headless zombie wandering around these days.  I think they have forgotten how to fall down.  Zombies are slow to learn and even slower to move, making them the easiest targets.

The down side to this is, our tenuous relationship with the zombies has fallen apart and they are taking the fight to anything with a brain.  On the up side Mischievous and I are safe because we barely have a brain between us, at least that’s what we’ve been told.  

My muse on the other hand has had to keep a low profile.  He’s been a good sport about the whole thing I must say because I’ve been tapping him on a very regular basis to help with the rewrite of my novel.  He has shown up each time I call and is hardly ever hung over.  He does still smoke too much and I wish I could convince him to stop.  He just gives me that intimidating stare so I shut up.  I’m grateful for his help.  Without him I’d be left with these crazy characters reeking havoc in my head with no way to quiet them down.

My trusty sidekick Mischievous is taking evening courses in poetry appreciation.  For weeks now he’s been dissecting  E A Poe’s poem The Raven.  Why is it a raven? Is the raven a metaphor for death?  Yadda yadda yadda, until I just have to tune him out.  Enough already with The Raven. I’ve suggested he try Charles Bukowski for something a little more up beat.  Of course my sarcasm was lost him.  At least Mr. Bukowski hasn’t used a raven in any of his poems that I know of.

The werewolf monks are busy bringing in the new grape harvest and The impenetrable Forrest and all its blood thirsty inhabitants are preparing for the coming holiday season.  They’ve posted signs inviting unsuspecting folk to enjoy the haunted forest and tree maze for free.  There are no reviews available because no one survives the experience.  I for one am not going anywhere near there in the month of October.

 I’m going to wrap this up here with a quote.  I’ll see you next week.  Thanks for tuning in.  

 “Not that the story need be long, but it will take a long while to make it short.”  Henry David Thoreau

Write On,

Eerie

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