The Daisy and the Dragon Part 2

After the wedding, my friends and I sufficiently trashed the newlyweds' car. Inspired, I wrote an addendum to the original Daisy and Dragon story.

The two were now joined, and no man can sunder.
The dragon had a new mission - vagander to plunder!

The two flew away at such a great speed,
They did not even notice a loose anal bead.

With the flower in his clutches, over Rome, Spain and China,
The dragon could not wait to sample the flower's vagina.

The dragon gazed at the daisy and knew she was ripe for the plucking.
So with green dong in hand, he turned out the light for a fucking.

To the dragon's surprise, he did not know her greatest power.
The gear shifter was used, but not on the flower!

All night long, strange noises filled the keep;
The whimpering of a dragon and the bahing of a sheep.

If anything could be said, it was a great honeymoon,
With several rubber dildos and a festival of poon.

The Daisy & the Dragon

This past Saturday, two of my friends got married. The theme of the reception was Daisies and Dragons (d&d). To celebrate the occasion, I wrote them a story:

Once upon a time, there was a dragon of might.
With honor and pride, he did whatever was right.

There was also a lady with magical powers,
Known throughout the land as the Princess of Flowers.

One day, the mighty dragon felt a pain in his heart.
The problem, you see, he was missing a part.

The princess also yearned for her prince to come along.
It seemed lyrics of love echoed in every song.

The dragon searched the realm, looking for love
Until one day, he saw a flower from above.

The princess was calm as the hairs stood on her neck.
She knew someone was coming - perception check!

When the princess saw the dragon, she knew he was the one
So she used her greatest power, and the charming had begun.

The dragon admitted, "I was not ensorceled, for I made my save.
'Tis only the beauty of your flower that my heart does crave."

The two were united for the kingdom to see
A time of great happiness - both hearts filled with glee.

So with nights filled with love and days filled with laughter,
The dragon and his daisy lived happily ever after.

On Being a Father

I was born on Father's Day. When I was growing up, at first I didn't think much about it. Then I thought sharing that time of year with my father was neat. Later, when I actually started buying gifts, I thought about how I had to buy gifts just around the time of year I was getting them. But now that I'm older, Father's Day holds much more significance to me.

First, I think of how my father has treated me my entire life. Through bad times or good, he always loved me just because I'm his son. What more could you ask for - love without having to do anything in return, even if you screw up. Also, my father was always the provider for my entire family, always making sure we had whatever we needed. He's always been a God fearing Christian and made sure that my brother and I always went to Church when we were young. And he always held an interest in whatever we were doing.

Next, I think of how much my father has influenced me. Without his presence throughout my life, where would I be? What kind of person would I be? Often I find myself repeating some of the words and phrases that I heard him say throughout my childhood. I was always listening to him, even when he may have thought that I wasn't.

Finally, I think about the future. Here we are on the precipice of another Father's Day and another birthday for me, bringing me yet one year further into my adult life. And now I'm starting to think, "Why am I not a father? Wouldn't it be nice to have a kid of my own?" If and when I do become a father, I want to be the kind of man that my father was for me.

This past week, my 6-year-old niece has been staying with me. She's just about the sweetest thing on earth - full of energy and smiles. However, from time to time, I can barely keep up with her. It's hard for me to remember sometimes that she's just a kid when I'm begging and pleading with her to eat something. Kids are just picky. And they're afraid of the dark sometimes. And even a tiny scrape can be traumatic. As an uncle, I have the distinct pleasure of being able to visit with my niece, spoil her rotten and then just move along. But what if I were her father? Could I handle it? I love her to death, but honestly I'm just not sure.

I'm lucky to have the father that I do. If your father was present throughout your childhood, or even as an adult, then you're lucky too. Don't ever take that for granted. If you are a father, then congratulations. I just hope that you're a part of your child's everyday life.

Do I want to be a father? Yes. Am I ready to be a father? Honestly, no...no I'm not. But my theory is that no one really is. No matter how prepared you may think you are, things are just different once you actually hold your own child in your arms. There will always be the unexpected, your patience will always be tried and accidents will happen. But through it all, there is love - the love between a father and his child.

Food Porn

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Are you tolerant of your oven?

Remember way back when we were children and were introduced to the slutty ways of the Easy Bake Oven? Sure, anyone could stick a bun in its oven but we whole-heartedly accepted her loose ways. But that wasn't good enough. Now there's a gay oven uprising!

Recently Quiznos introduced the Toasty Torpedo. The sandwich alone is over a foot long and is incredibly phallic-shaped, especially when cut in half. The bread is "ciabatta" which is apparently Italian for "penis." The safe way to eat the thing is to utilize the special wrapper it comes in. You can insert your own Italian sausage joke here.

Now to the crux of the situation - the gay oven. Here is a sampling of the dialogue found on their new commercial:

Oven: "Scott, I want you to do something."

Scott: "I'm not doing that again. I got burned."

Oven: "We both enjoyed that."

...

Oven: "Put it in me, Scott."

...

Oven: "Say it, Scott."
Scott: "Only four dollars?"

Oven: "Say it sexy."

Scott: "Only four dollars."

Oven: "Sexier."
Scott: "Only four dollars."

I'm still haunted by the oven's baritone voice saying, "Put it in me, Scott." That doesn't leave much to the imagination. I think we all know what was stuck where to get that burn. On the web site linked above, you can hear some of the dialogue and when you mouse over some of the graphics, the oven moans in sheer ecstasy. I know ovens are supposed to be hot, but this one is flaming!

I actually tried these sandwiches and I'll tell ya, I felt dirty for putting that thing in my mouth! First I pumped out some horseradish sauce into a cup, unwrapped the sandwich, dipped the end into the thick, white sauce and had my first meaty bite. I felt like I could've been in a George Michael video.

10 Tweet Fiction

Since I've always been a fan of flash fiction, I took a cue from @Zombie_Frenzy and decided to try writing Fiction in 10 Tweets over on Twitter (@tokyosteven). Anyway, I went ahead and collected the tweets as a whole here.

"Granny's Love" ©2009

A warm, lazy southern summer day. It seemed like nothing could go wrong, but the chirping birds and white clouds belied the bad news.

Little Suzy carelessly kicked her legs as she sat in her tree swing. Her gaze met the ground where the grass seemed just a bit sadder today.

Earlier in the day, Suzy was told that her grandmother had died. It was hard for her young mind to grasp the concept of death.

Never more would Suzy wrap her arms around her granny. Never more would she smell her grandmother's sweet perfume.

The girl hopped down from her swing and stepped on a passing insect. After all, why should it get to live?

A shrill scream pierced the air. Suzy looked up, toward her home. She didn't see any movement. The girl hopped back into her swing.

After a few swings, tears fell down Suzy's cheeks. "Why did granny have to die?" she asked. Suzy buried her face in her hands as she bawled.

A few heavy footsteps filled the air. Suzy heard them but assumed it was only her mother or father coming to comfort her.

A low, rumbling groan made Suzy open her eyes and look ahead. "Grandmother!" the girl shouted as she ran for a hug.

Suzy's embrace was not met. Instead, only another groan. The girl felt something wet drip onto her head. "Grandmother?" she asked nervously.

The Snow

Since moving to Middle Georgia about 9 years ago, it has only snowed twice - once in 2001 and then again yesterday. Sure I went to bed hearing the warnings of possible snow flurries but really thought nothing of it. I mean come on, it was 65 degrees the day before. But sure enough, when I woke up and looked out the window, I noticed that the precipitation I saw wasn't rain at all. Not hail nor sleet either, it was fine flakes of snow, just as predicted. I marveled over the accuracy of the local weathermen for a moment and then took note that not a single flake had stuck to the ground yet, instantly melting as it lit upon the red Georgia clay.

Mother Nature didn't mesmerize me long as I turned to the television for entertainment, glancing outside only once in a while until about 30 minutes later I noticed that the flakes actually looked larger. I went back to the window and saw that the ground was now covered in snow. Hallelujah! Sure, there was zero accumulation on the roads, but this was bonafide snow! OK, now I was far more impressed.

I couldn't stare out the window all day though; I had plans for lunch. So I got ready and as I drove to the restaurant, I saw a kid in the neighborhood trying his best to make a snow angel in the 1/4" of accumulation. I don't know if he was successful, but it looked like he was having fun. At lunch, my friends and I discussed the snow further as the flurry dwindled down to nothing more than an afterthought.

If there's one thing I can say for Georgians, they're an industrious lot. On my way back home, I noticed no less than half a dozen partial birth snowmen. True we didn't get much snow, but they made the absolute best of what we did have. Oh, and it was also enough to close down all the schools and go to work 2 hours late.