notapplepie

Writer's Block: Reality TV Your Way

2008-08-04T04:59:44Z

If you could make your own reality show, what would it be about and who would be on it?

I recently discussed this topic with my friend "D" who is the host of our internet radio show, "The Fabulous D Show." "D" is an enlightened, eccentric, wonderful personality. Sometimes male, sometimes female.... similar to that little box of chocolates; you never know what you're going to get.

We discussed having someone follow us around for a few days, to possibly weeks...providing they can duck a flying Tiara or circumvent a hissy over spilled cheap red wine, on a white carpet.....and don't mind having their shoelaces tied together while eating lunch...yes, we decided we would be the perfect "vehicle" to follow around, for a real version of an unreal reality show!

Me? Oh please! I'm Charlotte Bukowski. Yes, self named, after one of my favorite authors and "personalities" of all time....(don't even get me started about Oscar Wilde!!) Did I mention I also drive like Neal Cassady?

Ghosts in the......toilet?

2008-07-06T20:28:14Z

A few evenings ago, I was meandering around the house, filling the file cabinet in my head with all kinds of advertising and pulling out scraps of paper from Psych classes and menus from restaurants. You know, the usual. As I made my way to the bathroom and lifted the lid, I found I was not so alone in the house, after all.

This is the second time I have had such a "visitation". Doesn't appear that we would wear the same size clothing, however ;-)

Apocalyptic Poetry?

2008-06-09T07:32:03Z

Jawing

at the misty, murky

daylight;

Between breaths

incoherent

rhapsody

and utter

failure.

The noise

has

no voice

and yet,

possesses

the loudest

listeners.

And the pot

potatoes,

boils

over.

Excerpt from new essay

2008-06-09T07:28:58Z

I thought I would just throw this out to the masses, to see if anyone might follow......

I have never been a brave soul; only stubborn and forthright. And similar to any good tempered male, I hated to lose a fight. Yet, I am female. I have struggled with the duality of “psychological gender” my entire life. Possibly because, at a very, very young age, I was left, to raise myself. When this happens, to someone with any intelligence, I suppose many of the stereotypical sequences of adolescence, just do not occur. There is no time, for those minor adjustments. However, those sequences come back to haunt, decades later. And when one does not learn them initially, it is difficult to understand them, in the now.

And haunt, they do. Sometimes with such verocity and fortitude, one might think the world was coming undone. So many years of being “the best” at everything, and yet master of none. Initially, to survive, meant gaining the skill of the best 2^nd story man, without stealing; to learn the “rap” of the best confidence men, without lieing. And how does a woman do that? Simply, with what is in her mind and between her legs. That is the law of the street. Pussy means everything…yet is the most available commodity, to the street-borne males. I believe, this is why we see “girl-gangs” now. Women opposed to being a sexual slave, yet, just as mean and ferocious as their male counterparts. Our new society’s female?…hell bent on having the original power back, but in a new society, with new rules. I cry………

There are those of us too old, to take the street fight attitude. We have fallen between the cracks, somehow. Once pretty, always forthright, very intuitive, yet left, as aging baby boomers; with no family, no resources, few friends and multiple psychosis, otherwise known as head trips…yes, the lost ones. And sex had so much to do with it.

Whether it be physical sex, idealistic sex, imaginative sex, sex role play; any of it and all of it. We are humans, where sex plays the most singular role in our happiness and our displeasure.

Not intended for reproduction, in any form, without permission of the author

They're everywhere!

2008-05-20T02:25:57Z

I moved back to this sleepy little burg in Oregon, about a year ago. I moved here to get away from the insanity of Las Vegas, where I was living. And also, the insanity of most of the world in general, to be honest. I fled like a flea from an insecticide factory (36 hours, driving the u-haul solo, door to door). For the most part, things have been as expected; dull, dreary, and wonderfully quiet, beautiful and peaceful. Until today. Today the world (and associative crazies) encroached back upon me, a little closer than I care for.

I was having either a bad hair day or just an attack of the lazies and I decided to drive my car the 7 or so blocks to the mini mart, to retrieve my addiction of choice...Usually this is a ten minute round trip, simple as pie, situation. Oh no, not today! As I came to 10th Street & Hwy 101, about to make my right turn, I realized the entire 101 Hwy had been diverted with orange cones and there were vehicles of all shapes and sizes, with flashing lights, everywhere!! I had wondered why I saw two Police cruisers and a Sheriff's wagon in the 6 blocks since I had left home.....

Well, with an educated guess, I quickly deduced this was no place I either wanted or needed, to be. I scurried around it all, as fast as possible and went to the mini mart through a back way, which was also clogged with cars, more so than the average tourist season allows.

I parked and left the windows down for my dog and since I was only going to be less than a minute. I didn't bother locking the doors. I live in a town with a basic population of <10,000. One usually doesn't have to be frightened and paranoid someone is going to be in the back seat with an axe, when you return..and who's gonna steal my hunk-o-junk anyway? Even though it IS mine....but I digress.

So, I walk into the store and I make the comment, "wow, what an accident that must have been." The girl behind the counter quickly corrects me: "Oh, that's no accident, it's about the bomb threat." I look at her perplexed and ask "bomb threat? I've had the radio on all day and I haven't heard anything about that!" She proceeds to inform me that not only does she not have my particular brand of addiction until tomorrow, that we were "threatened with a bomb at the Military Recruiting Office, two blocks down."

Lovely. So now I get to stew about the crazies blowing my ass up and will have no last cigarette, before the firing squad .

Now I know why I wasted the gasoline.

I do not miss stupid people. Axes or otherwise.

I'll drink to that......

Here it is

2008-04-07T04:48:39Z

This took me two months to complete. I've never had any kind of "art class", I just go with the flow...and sometimes it's a little slow...