Archive for the ‘From Blogger’ Category

The Morning After … 10-7-2017

October 7, 2017


The morning after I killed myself, I woke up.

I made myself breakfast in bed. I added salt and pepper to my eggs and used my toast for a cheese and bacon sandwich. I squeezed a grapefruit into a juice glass. I scraped the ashes from the frying pan and rinsed the butter off the counter. I washed the dishes and folded the towels.

The morning after I killed myself, I fell in love. Not with the boy down the street or the middle school principal. Not with the everyday jogger or the grocer who always left the avocados out of the bag. I fell in love with my mother and the way she sat on the floor of my room holding each rock from my collection in her palms until they grew dark with sweat. I fell in love with my father down at the river as he placed my note into a bottle and sent it into the current. With my brother who once believed in unicorns but who now sat in his desk at school trying desperately to believe I still existed.

The morning after I killed myself, I walked the dog. I watched the way her tail twitched when a bird flew by or how her pace quickened at the sight of a cat. I saw the empty space in her eyes when she reached a stick and turned around to greet me so we could play catch … but saw nothing but sky in my place. I stood by as strangers stroked her muzzle and she wilted beneath their touch like she did once for mine.

The morning after I killed myself, I went back to the neighbor’s yard where I left my footprints in concrete as a two year old and examined how they were already fading. I picked a few daylilies and pulled a few weeds and watched the elderly woman through her window as she read the paper with the news of my death. I saw her husband spit tobacco into the kitchen sink and bring her her daily medication.

The morning after I killed myself, I watched the sun come up. Each orange tree opened like a hand and the kid down the street pointed out a single red cloud to his mother.

The morning after I killed myself, I went back to that body in the morgue and tried to talk some sense into her. I told her about the avocados and the stepping stones, the river, and her parents. I told her about the sunsets and the dog and the beach.

The morning after I killed myself, I tried to unkill myself, but couldn’t finish what I started.

Written by Meggie Royer
Artwork by Adam Tan



One of My ALL-TIME Favorite Jokes … 2-13-2016

February 13, 2017

A woman was very distraught at the fact that she had not had a date or any sex in quite some time.

She was afraid she might have something wrong with her, so she decided to seek the medical expertise of a sex therapist. Her doctor recommended that she see Dr. Chang, the well-known Chinese sex therapist, so she went to see him.

Upon entering the examination room, Dr. Chang said, “OK, take off all you crose.” The woman did as she was told.

“Now, get down and craw reery, reery fass to odder side of room.” Again, the woman did as she was instructed.

Dr. Chang then said, “OK, now craw reery, reery fass back to me.” So she did.

Dr. Chang shook his head slowly and said, “Your probrem vewy bad. You haf Ed Zachary Disease. Worse case I ever see. Dat why you not haf sex or dates.”

Worried, the woman asked anxiously, “Oh my God, Dr. Chang, what is Ed Zachary Disease?”

Dr. Chang looked the woman in the eye and replied, “Ed Zachary Disease is when your face rook Ed Zachary rike your ass.”


Weight Loss Program … 1-9-2017

January 9, 2017

As most of you know, I’ve been a touch over-weight for several years. I’ve tried, half-heartedly, to loose a few pounds here and there, but with little effect. That is … until I recently saw an ad on-line for “guaranteed weight loss” results.

I was intrigued …

I called the company and ordered their intro 5-day, 5-lbs weight loss program.

And bright and early the next day, there was a knock on our door and there stood before me a voluptuous, athletic, 19 year old babe dressed in nothing but a pair of Nike running shoes and wearing a sign around her neck.

She introduced herself as a representative of the weight loss company. And her sign? Well it read, “If you can catch me, you can have me.”

Without a second thought, I took off after her. A few miles later puffing and huffing, I finally had to give up. The same girl showed up for the next four days and the same thing happened. On the fifth day, I weighed myself and was delighted to find I had, indeed, lost 5-lbs … just as promised.

So I called the company and ordered their 5-day/10-lbs program. And again the next morning, bight and early, there was a knock at the door and there stood the most stunning, beautiful, sexy woman I had ever seen in my life. And she was wearing nothing but Reebok running shoes and a sign around her neck that read, “If you can catch me, you can have me”.

Well, I was out the door after her like a shot.

Now this girl was also in excellent shape and though I tried my best, there was no such luck. And for the next four days, the same routine happened with me gradually getting in better and better shape.

Much to my delight on the fifth day when I weighed myself, I discovered that I has lost another 10-lbs … again just as promised.

So I decided to go for broke and called the company to order the 5-day/25-lbs program.

“Are you sure?” asks the representative on the phone. “This is our most rigorous program.” “Absolutely,” I replied, “I haven’t felt this good in years.”

Well the next day, again, bright and early, there was a knock at the front door. I eagerly ran to open it only to find a huge muscular guy standing there wearing nothing but pink running shoes and a sign around his neck that read, “If I catch you, you are mine.”

I lost 33-lbs that week …


The Nails … 10-10-2016

October 10, 2016

There is a lot of talk these days about bullying and failure to accept. I came across this powerful message recently and thought I’d share it here.

There once was a little boy who had a bad temper. His father gave him a bag of nails and told him that every time he lost his temper, he must hammer a nail into the back of the fence.


The first day the boy had driven 37 nails into the fence. Over the next few weeks, as he learned to control his anger, the number of nails hammered daily gradually dwindled down. He discovered it was easier to hold his temper than to drive those nails into the fence.

Finally the day came when the boy didn’t lose his temper at all. He told his father about it and the father suggested that the boy now pull out one nail for each day that he was able to hold his temper. The days passed and the young boy was finally able to tell his father that all the nails were gone.

The father took his son by the hand and led him to the fence. He said, “You have done well, my son, but look at the holes in the fence. The fence will never be the same. When you say things in anger, they leave a scar just like this one. You can put a knife in a man and draw it out. It won’t matter how many times you say I’m sorry, the wound is still there.”

The little boy then understood how powerful his words were. He looked up at his father and said “I hope you can forgive me father for the holes I put in you.”

“Of course I can,” said the father.

It’s not always anger, it is your actions in general. There are no “fresh starts” in life. There is no new beginning. Forgiveness comes easy for many people but the scars of the past, they never go away. Watch what you do today, because sometimes the price isn’t worth the reward.


Perfect Timing … 5-16-2016

May 16, 2016

They say a picture is worth a thousand words … but a perfectly timed picture is worth much more.












And my PERSONAL favorite:



Weird Ramblings From A Warped Mind… 3-14-2016

March 14, 2016

OWN (‘Ol Weird Nancy) gave me a “Do Not Resuscitate” T-shirt for my birthday. Just in case.

~ I’m the reason some Taco Bells have ATMs.


~ I’m uncomfortable with being called a “genius” and so far, no one has made me feel uncomfortable.

~ They say to dress for the job you want, but I tell ya, I’ve been dressing as the Pope for years and it’s gotten me nowhere.


~ If you’re insulting a kid, make sure you don’t say bad things about her mama when she’s standing right behind you and she’s OWN (‘Ol Weird Nancy).

~ I nailed a picture of a lost tree to my Hickville Holler (Pop 2) TrailerHood neighbor’s cat and now they hate me.

~ I have a lot going on, most of which is purely in my head. But that doesn’t make it any less distracting.

~ When they tell you to smile and say cheese, don’t do it. There’s never any cheese. It’s all lies.

~ Our cat thinks that she owns the house and we just visit her at night.

~ I can’t wait till everyone changes their profile pics for hemorrhoid awareness week.


~ I can always tell how my day is going to go based on which belt loop I can reach.

~ The scariest trick OWN (‘Ol Weird Nancy) pulls is offering me a choice.

~ If you gaze deeply into my eyes… you’ll probably notice my “check engine” light is on.

~ Sometimes I like to imagine what it would be like if giraffes walked around speaking Chinese to each other. Other times I take medication.

~ I had a dream where my refrigerator just walked to my bedroom, opened the door, stood there and stared at me for five minutes, then it closed the door and left.

~ I never say anything bad about my former boss, but I type a good bit of it.

~ According to Ancestry dot com, it looks like I’m the least successful family member in roughly 300 years.


~ I’m learning braille. So far all I know is Floor 7.


Weird Ramblings From A Warped Mind… 3-7-2016

March 7, 2016

~ You don’t win friends with salad.

~ When smacking your gut, how many flesh ripples does it take to qualify as obese?

~ Saw a hawk swoop down over the highway and fly off with a snake in his mouth and I can’t even switch lanes while eating a Twizzler.


~ Whatever the opposite of a hunger strike is … I’m on that.

~ My new retirement plan is to just travel across the country robbing liquor stores while wearing a Dolly Parton wig. Oh … and play the lottery.

~ Bruce Jenner’s nieces and nephews call him Uncle Lady.

~ So earlier today I spotted a deer in a distant field with binoculars. And now I’m wondering what he was looking at with them …

~ I can’t do it your way. I’m unable to attain that level of stupidity.

~ I didn’t read the terms and conditions. I’ll probably end up homeless, yet known for my notably lustrous hair.

~ All I’m saying is if my former boss had been a slug, I’d have sprinkled her with salt.


~ I always make full eye contact when placing the stick that separates our groceries.

~ I don’t know where I’m going with this, but that has never stopped me before.

~ I like going into a public bathroom stall and doing camera shutter sounds with my phone.

~ I often wonder how I can be so wrong about so many people all of the time.

~ The people that never ask you anything are always the ones who think they know everything about you.

~ I was born with a lazy eye and it just kind of spread.

Mary Feldman

~ I’m not saying it’s something we should do, but I think the school play would be more entertaining if the kids were drunk.

~ So I saw a kid solving a Rubik’s cube, hands over his head, and blindfolded. I don’t even know where my keys are. THIS is what I’m angry about today.

~ My best advice to you is… don’t EVER take advice from me.


Weird Ramblings From A Warped Mind… 2-29-2016

February 29, 2016

~ I typed my symptoms into WebMD an all I got back was, “Eww. Gross.”

~ I dumped my sock full of pennies on the gas station counter and told the attendant, “I’ll take a pickle in a bag and whatever is left on pump 7.”


~ My favorite quote to my former boss was, “That which doesn’t kill you disappoints me immensely.”

~ So I’ve learned if you’re going jogging in the heat, you need to take lots of extra napkins because your ice cream sandwich is gonna melt fast as hell.

~ I eat like a bird … a really, really, REALLY fat bird.


~ During a lull in a fight with OWN (‘Ol Weird Nancy), I like to tell her I’m bored.

~ I really need to stop referring to 7-11 as the grocery store.

~ I am anti-violence … so don’t dilly-dally your time with my coffee.

~ I originally meant for my Social Media accounts to be classy. Things went horribly wrong very quickly.

~ I want the job where you push scared skydivers out of the plane door.


~ I was too depressed to celebrate Mental Health Week.

~ I just got too tired of being slim and good looking.

~ I have never faked a sarcasm.

~ My new diet starts on Monday… I just haven’t decided which Monday.

~ After grandpa’s unfortunate steamroller incident last year, man crush Monday is always a difficult time for me and my family.

~ To err is human; to blame it on somebody else shows management potential.

~ Nike actually called me and asked me to stop doing it.

~ “I buy cookies I don’t really like so I won’t eat them,” I say to myself halfway through a sleeve of Fig Newtons.


~ You win some… you lose a lot.

~ When I die, I have arranged for my best friend to delete my browser history and make my chalk lines smaller.


Weird Ramblings From A Warped Mind… 2-22-2016

February 22, 2016

~ I took some of my clothes in to the laundry today and I found $20.00 in my pocket. My first thought was, “WHO HAS BEEN WEARING MY PANTS?!?”


~ Thinking of funny posts is a whole lot easier when you’re dying on the inside.

~ I’ve reached the point that I have to check my bank balance on my phone before ordering a side of guac…

~ Since we’ve been married awhile, OWN (‘Ol Weird Nancy) has earned the right to maniacally laugh when someone tells her they’re getting married.

~ My family crest is just a single rotisserie chicken.


~ Nothing says I’m ugly more than my bowl of grits receiving more likes than my selfie on Instagram.

~ My new favorite hobby is counting how many noises my body makes as I roll out of bed.

~ Just got a text my Hickville Holler (Pop 2) TrailerHood neighbor sent last week. I wonder if he still needs a fire extinguisher?


~ This old guy in Wal*Mart was giving me the weirdest looks last night… and the worst piggyback ride of my life.

~ When I asked OWN (‘Ol Weird Nancy) to tease me, “Alright, Fatty” was NOT what I had in mind.

~ I don’t know what my problem is, but I’m pretty sure I have one.

~ OWN (‘Ol Weird Nancy) spends more time wondering what I’m thinking than I spend thinking.

~ Getting lucky when you’re married is being the one spouse to fall asleep before the other one starts snoring…


~ Ever apologize for no reason? No? It must be nice being single.

~ Hey guys, OWN (‘Ol Weird Nancy) is starring in a one-woman show called “Nothing Gets Done Around This Damn House Unless I Do It.” Critics are raving…

~ I’m so lazy I don’t even exercise my options.

~ Most people describe my dancing style as “Oh my god, does he need medication?”

~ After 34 years of marriage, OWN (‘Ol Weird Nancy) still makes me smile. Usually at family gatherings where she threatens me if I don’t look happy.


Yoga Mat For Sale … 2-15-2016

February 15, 2016

I peruse many sites seeking material I deem “post worthy.” I look for items I think make bring a smile to your face. This gem came from Craigslist. I think it will meet my desired expectations…

Yoga mat for sale. Used once at lunch hour class in December 2014. Usage timeline as follows:

Register for hot yoga class. Infinite wisdom tells me to commit to 5 class package and purchase a yoga mat. I pay $89.74. Money well spent, I smugly confirm to myself.

Open door to yoga room. A gush of hot dry air rushes through and past me. It smells of breath, sweat and hot. Take spot on floor in back of room next to cute blonde. We will date.

I feel the need to be as near to naked as possible. This is a problem because of the hot blonde to my left and our pending courtship. She will not be pleased to learn that I need to lose 30 pounds before I propose to her.

The shirt and sweats have to come off. I throw caution to the wind and decide to rely on my wit and conditioning to overcome any weight issues my fiancé may take issue with. This will take a lot of wit and conditioning.

Begin small talk with my bride to be. She pretends to ignore me but I know how she can be. I allow her to concentrate and stare straight ahead and continue to pretend that I don’t exist. As we finish sharing our special moment, I am suddenly aware of a sweat moustache that has formed below my nose. This must be from the all the whispering between us.

Instructor enters the room and ascends her special podium at the front of the room. She is a slight, agitated Chinese woman. She introduces me to the class and everyone turns around to greet me just as I decide to aggressively adjust my penis and testes packed in my Under Armor. My bride is notably unfazed.

Since I do have experience with Hot Yoga (4 sessions just 5 short years ago) I fully consider that I may be so outstanding and skilled that my instructor may call me out and ask me to guide the class. My wife will look on with a sparkle in her eye. We will make love after class.

It is now up to 95 degrees in the room. We have been practicing deep breathing exercises for the last 8 minutes. This would not be a problem if we were all breathing actual, you know, oxygen. Instead, we are breathing each other’s body odor, expelled carbon dioxide and other unmentionables. (Don’t worry, I’ll mention them later.)

It is now 100 degrees and I take notice of the humidity, which is hovering at about 90%. I feel the familiar adorning stare of my bride and decide to look back at her. She appears to be nauseated. I then realize that I forgot to brush my teeth prior to attending this class. We bond.

It is now 110 degrees and 95% humidity. I am now balancing on one leg with the other leg crossed over the other. My arms are intertwined and I am squatting. The last time I was in this position was 44 years ago in the womb, but I’m in this for the long haul. My wife looks slightly weathered dripping sweat and her eyeliner is streaming down her face. Well, “for better or worse” is what we committed to so we press on.

The overweight Hispanic man two spots over has sweat running down his legs. At least I think its sweat. He is holding every position and has not had a sip of water since we walked in. He is making me look bad and I hate him.

I consider that if anyone in this room farted that we would all certainly perish.

It is now 140 degrees and 100% humidity. I am covered from head to toe in sweat. There is not a square millimeter on my body that is not slippery and sweaty. I am so slimy that I feel like a sea lion or a maybe sea eel. Not even a bear trap could hold me. The sweat is stinging my eyeballs and I can no longer see.

This room stinks of asparagus, cloves, tuna and tacos. There is no food in the room. I realize that this is an amalgamation of the body odors of 30 people in a 140 degree room for the last 55 minutes. Seriously, enough with the asparagus, ok?

140 degrees and 130% humidity. Look, bitch, I need my space here so don’t get all pissy with me if I accidentally sprayed you with sweat as I flipped over. Seriously, is that where this relationship is going? Get over yourself. We need counseling and she needs to be medicated. Stat!

150 degrees and cloudy. And hot. I can no longer move my limbs on my own. I have given up on attempting any of the commands this Chinese chick is yelling out at us. I will lay sedentary until the aid unit arrives. I will buy this building and then have it destroyed.
I lose consciousness.

I have a headache and my wife is being a selfish bitch. I can’t really breathe. All I can think about is holding a cup worth of hot sand in my mouth. I cannot remember what an ice cube is and cannot remember what snow looks like. I consider that my only escape might be a crab walk across 15 bodies and then out of the room. I am paralyzed, and may never walk again so the whole crab walk thing is pretty much out.

I cannot move at all and cannot reach my water. Is breathing voluntary or involuntary? If it’s voluntary, I am screwed. I stopped participating in the class 20 minutes ago. Hey, lady! I paid for this frickin class, ok?! You work for me! Stop yelling at everyone and just tell us a story or something. It’s like juice and cracker time, ok?

It is now 165 degrees and moisture is dripping from the ceiling. The towel that I am laying on is no longer providing any wicking or drying properties. It is actually placing additional sweat on me as I touch it. My towel reeks. I cannot identify the smell but no way can it be from me. Did someone spray some stank on my towel or something?

Torture session is over. I wish hateful things upon the instructor. She graciously allows us to stay and ‘cool down’ in the room. It is 175 degrees. Who cools down in 175 degrees? A Komodo Dragon? My wife has left the room. Probably to throw up.

My opportunity to escape has arrived. I roll over to my stomach and press up to my knees. It is warmer as I rise up from ground level – probably by 15 degrees. So let’s conservatively say it’s 190. I muster my final energy and slowly rise. One foot in front of the other. One foot in front of the other. Towards the door. Towards the door.

The temperature in the lobby is 72 degrees. Both nipples stiffen to diamond strength and my penis begins to retract into my abdomen from the 100 degree temp swing. I can once again breathe though so I am pleased. I spot my future ex wife in the lobby. We had such a good thing going but I know that no measure of counseling will be able to unravel the day’s turmoil and mental scaring.

Arrive at Emerald City Smoothie and proceed to order a 32 oz beverage. 402 calories, 0 fat and 14 grams of protein — effectively negating any caloric burn or benefit from the last 90 minutes. I finish it in 3 minutes and spend the next 2 hours writing this memoir.

Create Craigslist ad while burning final 2 grams of protein from Smoothie and before the “shakes” consume my body.

Note to self – check car for missing wet yoga towel in am.