The Care and Feeding of An Actual Mess of a Person. When this year started, I had huge, wonderful plans for this blog. Post three times a week, minimum. Participate in every free-write flash fiction compilation I could find. Discuss current submissions out for publication at least once a month. Maybe even bring some life things into play. Something about best laid plans should go here, I think. Half the year is over.

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Sing her pastel hues and honey-flavoured wonder. You thought I was just swaying. Waiting for a Summer That Will Never Come. 8220;She makes me nervous.

Confessions of a Pseudo-Gaysian Suburban Dad. Thoughts on gender, race, parenting, and theater. An Open Letter to the Neighbor Who Filed a Complaint against my Black Lives Matter Sign. When you see my son is bouncing a basketball in the driveway, do you see a younger version of these boys and young men? These are the things we think about when we proclaim that black lives matter in the form of our simple lawn sign. Posted in Parenting Children of Color.

I felt frozen in place even though I knew I could just hang up the phone. I can talk sex with anyone. I can talk fetishes, kink, extremes. As long as I am online, o.