A place for writing.
“Well, you know you have to let potato chips breathe—just like fine wine. When you first open the bag they smell like…well shit, they smell like feet.” The table rolled in laughter.
“Mom can you please not do bits during dinner.”
“I’m just having conversation, you fucking cunt.”
“Jesus.”
“Jesus,Tuli.”
“Yeah, right: Jesus Tuli… you know what? I’m sorry. That’s my bad. Babygirl—mommy’s sorry. I’m gonna go for a smoke. Be…right back. Fresh as a daisy and sweeter n’ sugar. I’m sorry.”
How are you creative? First, my mind put a comma in there that I now see doesn’t exist. I automatically re-wrote “creative” as a noun instead of its intended adjective—NOW THERE’S YA CREATIVITY!! So I guess my answer becomes: I am creative in that I automatically and perpetually revise reality into a version that makesContinue reading “Does Lying Count? 🥸✍🏿”
The world should have treated us better. For how smart and cute and funny we were—we got some shitty ends of some sticks…
The Io Scrivo* Blog