Sometimes I wonder how I got to be 50 years old. I never remember feeling loved in my life. Is that why I can not feel it now? I think about it a lot. If I have never felt love coming from other people ever, then it must be my fault. (more…)
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Here we go once again on the magical expedition that is the job hunt. One of the worst aspects of modern life in my eyes (my beautiful, blue eyes). Prepare for an epic tale of intrigue, betrayal, romance and the consequences of a hero standing tall against the evil seeds of capitalism. (more…)
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C1 Chongqing
Chongqing.
This city is famous for three thing: Hot weather, hot-pot, and hot girls. (more…)
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My angel is named Erica. Erica Palomino. My son Charles was 16 when he met her. He was still in the aftermath of mine and his father’s divorce. He was confused and still hurting. Erica brought him out of all that. They had a love that anyone would say was impossible for people so young. I was there to see it though, so I know it transformed his life. (more…)
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I woke up here a few days ago. My clothes were gone and I was only scantily clad in some mangled foreign garb. Symbols stitched haphazardly to my lapels vaguely resemble characters from long ago. (more…)
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Motorcycle Racer Ghost Story
Back in 94, I was in a bicycle race down Pikes Peak in Colorado. For practice you had to get up on the mountain before sunrise so that you could get as many practice runs in before 8:00, when the road opened to the public. After practice I ended up spending the day working on bikes and misc. instead of catching up on sleep. (more…)
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Kauai Great White story.
Must have been 83 or 84. I was on the north shore on the end of secret beach heading toward Kalihiwai. There is a place the locals use to call Dragons breath. (more…)
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WTF - Chapter 1, Season 4.
My hands trembled, as I held the photo. Who is this child? It was a picture of a new born baby boy. His black hair was thickly curled, around smooth cinnamon brown skin. Eyes closed, sleeping quietly…wrapped in a knitted ocean blue blanket. What a beautiful baby, I thought.
Who is this child? …And why is this photo in my fiance’s glove box? (more…)
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I was two years old, and ready to go to the baby-sitter while my mother was working. Bum-Bum was always in her room when it was time for me to leave, from what my mother told me. My great, great grandmother was so full of spunk, never missed a beat. I don’t have a single memory of her, or of what she looked like unless I saw a picture. I couldn’t remember how she smelled, how she walked or talked or laughed. I have one memory, one vision, one sight. (more…)
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“Yitgadal v’yitgadash sh’me raba…”
The flowing Aramaic billows out over the cemetery with an eerie resonance, long remembered rote coming out, the meaning engraved at untold depths in our minds. Someone cries, a piercing shriek of a sob that stabs through the overcast clouds and the fog of my mind, makes me shake and look down in a pitiful pantomime of sympathy, something I should be able to express directly to his family. (more…)
…..The other day my niece Delia was uncharacteristically sweet, giving kisses, playing with my hair (not her usual deal) and sat with me after supper. “What’s that? Coffee? Is it nice?” She gave me My look back at me… its my niece, so of course I recognized the patented look (I invented that), so I turn to her and say “What’s up, what’s your deal?”
My brother Rob is at the table on his laptop, looks at me like what the hell- and Delia sits on my lap as if I was Santa Claus and says “Have you heard about the new seventy dollar doll?” Casually, as if second nature. (more…)
We have begun adding true stories to the website. For those of you who don’t want to write your story down, feel free to contact me and we can do a podcast telling your Crazy Story! You can reach me by email: Mymorningstory@gmail.com
or you can leave your story on a phone call to 302 – 468 MYMS. And you can even sign up on the website, and get the crap involved!
This is a story by Fighting Monkey Pants, about him and a Girl. hope you enjoy it, as you can hear me laugh all the way through it.
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