A weary body awakens and then lifts,
the coffee, warms and soothes.
Stepping outside upon the balcony,
a cool morning slowly succumbs to the sun.
The kids laugh on their way to the stop,
my thoughts give way to their laughter.

I remember running for no reason,
just to feel the wind on my face.
Smiling just because it makes me feel good,
and right now, I feel good again.

The smell of eggs and toast invade,
something to look forward to after I shower.
A steady burgeoning rise of noises breaks,
through my thoughts, like twilight.
Smoothly, easily, amidst impending chaos.

I pick up my keys and head towards the door.
I stop to make sure I have everything,
but feel like something is missing.
Then I remember the kids.
I leave my place smiling for no reason.

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‎"The true mystery of the world is the visible, not the invisible." --Wilde

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Tom's Notebook, or The Misadventures of an Unrepentant Souse, soon to be a major motion picture - well, a minor still-life drawing - penned by the trembling hand that conjured up such overtures to love-that-dare-not-stick-its-finger-down-its-throat, (for fear of what unspeakable horrors, from what unnamable levels of fresh hell, might conceivably become uncovered, and unwittingly dredged up), as The Extrapolated Scarlet Garment, Columbine in Fifth Street Traffic, and that Elmer Fudd inspired classic, Dwive, ("My wuv is wike a wed, wed, wose...") (pause for intermission, cigarettes, and the chance to catch one's breath), - is now perched like a flasher with a major grin pinned to his face, and a minor in French literature, upon Oberon's invitingly admission-fee-suspended, pimped and tarted profile page, for your perusal, and - although it's highly doubtful - your enjoyment.

(Please direct all outraged e-mails, uncollected invoices or litigation papers to the owners of this site.)

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Tom's Notebook, or The Misadventures of an Unrepentant Souse, soon to be a major motion picture - well, a minor still-life drawing - penned by the trembling hand that conjured up such overtures to love-that-dare-not-stick-its-finger-down-its-throat, (for fear of what unspeakable horrors, from what unnamable levels of fresh hell, might conceivably become uncovered, and unwittingly dredged up), as The Extrapolated Scarlet Garment, Columbine in Fifth Street Traffic, and that Elmer Fudd inspired classic, Dwive, ("My wuv is wike a wed, wed, wose...") (pause for intermission, cigarettes, and the chance to catch one's breath), - is now perched like a flasher with a major grin pinned to his face, and a minor in French literature, upon Oberon's invitingly admission-fee-suspended, pimped and tarted profile page, for your perusal, and - although it's highly doubtful - your enjoyment.

(Please direct all outraged e-mails, uncollected invoices or litigation papers to the owners of this site.)

merry christmas!

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i am really excited to have two "recommended reads". they are "did you know i love your cock?" and "just fuck me". great titles, huh?

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If you haven't, you should read this award-winning story. Fine, fine, I only won a potato, but I'm sure you won't be able to peel your eyes away from it.

Damn! I think Ann and I had the same hairdo, circa 1987

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If you haven't, you should read this award-winning story. Fine, fine, I only won a potato, but I'm sure you won't be able to peel your eyes away from it.

---

Tom's Notebook, or The Misadventures of an Unrepentant Souse, soon to be a major motion picture - well, a minor still-life drawing - penned by the trembling hand that conjured up such overtures to love-that-dare-not-stick-its-finger-down-its-throat, (for fear of what unspeakable horrors, from what unnamable levels of fresh hell, might conceivably become uncovered, and unwittingly dredged up), as The Extrapolated Scarlet Garment, Columbine in Fifth Street Traffic, and that Elmer Fudd inspired classic, Dwive, ("My wuv is wike a wed, wed, wose...") (pause for intermission, cigarettes, and the chance to catch one's breath), - is now perched like a flasher with a major grin pinned to his face, and a minor in French literature, upon Oberon's invitingly admission-fee-suspended, pimped and tarted profile page, for your perusal, and - although it's highly doubtful - your enjoyment.

(Please direct all outraged e-mails, uncollected invoices or litigation papers to the owners of this site.)

---

Tom's Notebook, or The Misadventures of an Unrepentant Souse, soon to be a major motion picture - well, a minor still-life drawing - penned by the trembling hand that conjured up such overtures to love-that-dare-not-stick-its-finger-down-its-throat, (for fear of what unspeakable horrors, from what unnamable levels of fresh hell, might conceivably become uncovered, and unwittingly dredged up), as The Extrapolated Scarlet Garment, Columbine in Fifth Street Traffic, and that Elmer Fudd inspired classic, Dwive, ("My wuv is wike a wed, wed, wose...") (pause for intermission, cigarettes, and the chance to catch one's breath), - is now perched like a flasher with a major grin pinned to his face, and a minor in French literature, upon Oberon's invitingly admission-fee-suspended, pimped and tarted profile page, for your perusal, and - although it's highly doubtful - your enjoyment.

(Please direct all outraged e-mails, uncollected invoices or litigation papers to the owners of this site.)

---

If you haven't, you should read this award-winning story. Fine, fine, I only won a potato, but I'm sure you won't be able to peel your eyes away from it.

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Eddie Nailed It!!!

And Joan Jett? Guess They Have To Limit The Inductees Just In Case Another ABBA Comes Along!! What A Fucking JOKE!!!