Farewell Mr. Potato Head’s scrotum I regret never getting to know’d ‘im As for his testosterone, tater twin tots Here’s a bouquet of forget-me-nots I guess it’s a sign of…
Author: raboduffy@gmail.com
I can’t yet say that music has carried me through the corona crisis but I know that it will. For one thing, it hasn’t really been all that long since…
“Blessed Assurance, Jesus is mine…”I want my mother“Oh what a foretaste of glory divine…”my mother is in a box and soon she’ll be in the ground, I want my mother“Heir…
PART 3 Three days later the town was now in complete uproar over the disappearance of yet another young daughter. Fingers were pointed in every direction but ever increasingly at…
PART 2 Elsie had received her first taste of murder from her father, the experience of which would later serve her well. It was on an Indian summer, October afternoon,…
PART 1 “Blessed Assurance, Jesus is mine…”I want my mother“Oh what a foretaste of glory divine…”my mother is in a box and soon she’ll be in the ground, I want…
Bombast, drama, fantastical lyrical imagery, banshee vocals, killer riffs and pinball arcade synthesizers. What more could a thirteen-year old boy in the year 1978 ask for? “Okay Boomer, so some…
Last month Jenny and I took a little trip. We approached it in the same manner that has become our norm whenever possible. That is, we choose a few vague…
Five steps to better mental health: Don’t bathe your mother. Have at least one balanced nutritional meal every day. Avoid magic tricks. Fresh underwear daily. Don’t bathe your mother. I…
The following are salutations from the inside cover of the found 1971 yearbook of Jim Hugger, Normandy Senior High School, St. Louis Missouri. Misspellings uncorrected and without notation. To the…
Rather than “I love you because…”, how about simply “I love you.”
If you don’t know the Bob Dylan tune it is available for a listen in the audio player at the bottom of the homepage. This is a Bob Dylan composition….