MLMM Photo Challenge — Medusa

8BC9BDDA-9DAE-4FE2-8D5B-9DBAE4B0DE32They warned me about you, but I was too captured by your statuesque beauty to listen to what anyone else told me. They said you you had snow in your veins and that you were cold and manipulative. But my every instinct, every cell in my body, told me they were wrong about you.

In the end, though, they were all right. What I thought was your gracious hospitality was just a way for you to draw me into your web. I learned that your empathy was merely an act to cause me to let down my defenses. You were one-half warm and vibrant woman and one-half stone cold bitch.

And now I’m frozen; you’ve turned me to stone. I am unable to turn away from you. You have immobilized me. I only now understand why my friends refer to you as “Medusa.”

Written for the Photo Challenge prompt from Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie. Photo credit: MindCore. Also for these daily prompts: Ragtag Daily Prompt (snow), Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (instinct), The Daily Spur (cell), Word of the Day Challenge (hospitality), and Your Daily Word Prompt (empathy).

Sunday Writing Prompt — It’s John Lennon, Dude


“It’s a picture of John Lennon when The Beatles were going through their psychedelic phase,” I said.

“That’s what you see?” he asked.

“Sure. The purple sunglasses, the rosy cheeks, the fu manchu mustache, the long hair. It’s definitely Lennon. No question.”

“Pink hair?”

“Psychedelic colors, man,” I said. “Like ‘Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds,’ you know what I mean? Like ‘tangerine trees and marmalade skies.’”

“And what is that on Lennon’s head?” he asked.

“It’s his Sgt. Pepper hat.”

“And those shapes on both sides of his head?”

“Dude, don’t you see it?” I asked. “That’s the visualization of the music that is inside of his mind as he’s composing a song. In stereo!”

“May I ask you something?” he said.

“Sure, feel free. Go for it.”

“Are you tripping on acid right now?”

“Funny you should ask, Dr. Rorschach,” I said, smiling at the psychologist. “That’s a very distinct possibility.”

Written for this week’s Sunday Writing Prompt from Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie.

MLMM Music Challenge

70CEE9ED-1D85-4445-ABAA-F0B28B07B8F2My blogging buddy, Jim Adams, is now part of the Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie team and he is hosting one of the MLMM music challenges. The latest of Jim’s MLMM challenges is one he titled “The Mighty Quinn.” In that post, he provided the lyrics to the Bob Dylan song from which Jim got the title for his post. Then he challenged his readers to “focus on that song and use it for inspiration in any form of creative expression (including but not limited to short stories, poems, lyrics, artwork, photography, etc.).”

I hadn’t really planned to write my own post in response to this particular challenge, but then I read this post from Jim. Jim was reviewing the reception his participation in the MLMM Music Challenge was getting, as this “Mighty Quinn” post was his third. And when I read Jim’s post, I saw that he posted this comment:

“I was hoping that Fandango might stop by and write the parody, ‘When Trump the sycophant gets impeached, everybody is going to jump for joy,’ but no such luck.”

Well, Jim, my friend, far be it from me to disappoint you. So, I have taken Bob Dylan’s “The Mighty Quinn” lyrics and given them the Fandango treatment.

And now, sung (loosely) to the tune of “The Mighty Quinn,” I present you with “The Idiot Trump.”

Come all without, come all let’s jump
You’ll not see nothing like the idiot Trump
Come all without, come all let’s jump
You’ll not see nothing like the idiot Trump

Nobody’s building ships and boats
Some are removing monuments, others are squeezing others’ throats
Everybody’s in despair, every girl and boy
But when Trump the idiot gets impeached, everybody’s gonna jump for joy

Come all without, come all let’s jump
You’ll not see nothing like the idiot Trump

I like to go just like the rest, I like my bourbon neat
But standing behind that panty waste, despite that he’s such a cheat
Is putting his GOP sycophants out on a limb
But when Trump the idiot gets here, all the lemmings gonna run to him

Come all without, come all let’s jump
You’ll not see nothing like the idiot Trump
Come all without, come all let’s jump
You’ll not see nothing like the idiot Trump

Let me do what I wanna do, I can’t decide ‘em all
Just tell me where to put ‘em and I’ll tell you who to call
Nobody can get no sleep, there’s someone on everyone’s toes
But when Trump the idiot gets here,
Most Americans are gonna get hosed

Come all without, come all let’s jump
You’ll not see nothing like the idiot Trump
Come all without, come all let’s jump
You’ll not see nothing like the idiot Trump

Come all without, come all let’s jump
You’ll not see nothing like the idiot Trump
Come all without, come all let’s jump
You’ll not see nothing like the idiot Trump

I’m Just Not Feeling It

4F6A46DC-2742-4D23-B446-3106CE524C9FI have four partially written draft posts that I started today and they all suck.

In one of the four drafts, I tried to craft, as I am wont to do each day, a cohesive story around five one-word prompts, including my own. But nothing worked.

Then I began writing a post for Sue Vincent’s Thursday Photo Prompt and I just couldn’t get it to come together. Same with The Haunted Wordsmith’s Daily Prompt post and with Paula Light’s Three Things Challenge post. Nada!

I thought about writing yet another rant about Donald Trump and, even though there’s plenty to rant about, my head and my heart just weren’t into it.

I have been wracking my brain (or is that racking my brain? I’m never sure which is the correct expression) all day, but nothing has surfaced.

Then I saw the Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Tale Weaver prompt, where we are challenged to weave a tale in which ‘search’ features prominently.

So perhaps that’s the answer. I’ve been spending all this time today in search of something to write about and to post. But is it appropriate to write a post about a search when that search has come to naught? Probably not.

Maybe I’ll try again later. Or maybe not. But right now, I’m just not feeling it.

MLMM Photo Challenge — The Demon Within

6E25D9AD-DF6B-4690-8C58-70E81FB2ECBCHeather stood up after tightening the shoelace on one of her sneakers when Bill walked into the room. She smiled at him and started to walked up to him to give him a kiss. “Sweetie,” Bill said, “is that a cold sore or a bug bite you have there on your lips? They look a little swollen.”

frown appeared on Heather’s face. She reached up with her right hand and touched her upper and lower lips on the left side of her mouth. “Oh my God, it’s a rough patch and it almost feels like it’s undulating beneath my fingertips.” She beckoned Bill over to her. “Take a closer look and tell me what it is.”

Bill moved in close to get a better look at Heather’s lips. An icicle ran down his spine as he tried to fathom what he was seeing. “Jesus Christ!” he shouted. He looked up into his girlfriend’s eyes, which had suddenly changed from beautiful brown to cat-like green.988ac3fe-93a6-4d5c-9a6d-4345c935d854.pngBill jumped back and started to scream, but before he could get a sound out, a long, serpent-like tongue shot out of Heather’s mouth, and numbed his cheek, essentially causing Bill’s body to become paralyzed.

A deep, masculine voice came out of what was once Heather’s mouth. “Welcome to Hell, mortal,” the voice said just before the hingeless, fanged mouth of the demon engulfed Bill’s head.

Written for this week’s Photo Challenge from Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie. Photo credit: Christo Dagorov.

Also for Paula Light’s Three Things Challenge, where the three things are “frown,” “shoelace,” and “icicle.”