The Woodshed

by MontiLee

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***squints in the blinding glare***

um...

***squeal of feedback from mic***

um...sorry...the need for near constant attention has brought me to this point.

the first step to conquering the problem is admitting you have one, and hopefully with this I can put that off for as long as possible.

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Working on Fast Fiction Friday

(viewed 639 times)
Excuse my toes.

My works starts as longhand and progresses to the laptop when I'm sick of looking at the chicken on my stationary.

This is my desk. It was formerly a cat tree. When you are poor, you make do.

14th Jul 2004, 14:35   comments (2)

The afterglow of a forbidden orgy

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Zeus...what can I say. He knows all the kewl people.

For those who care - yes that's an Original Care Bear, circa 1983 - it's Birthday Bear, and I've had him since I was 11 - you do the math.

That is also an original Pink Panther that I've had since 1979, when the cartoons were on Saturday mornings (not the Matt Frewer ones) - remember The Ant and The Aardvark and Mr. Shark?

The Eeyore belongs to my husband (shut up), and the yellow legs sticking out are attached to a multi-colored elephant I've named Henry the Hurt Elephant, because when I'm not feeling well, I either hug him and/or beat him against the nearest wall until I feel better. Doug won him at the State Fair for me when we were courting, over nine years ago.

:::gets teary-eyed to the strains of "Memories":::
17th Jun 2004, 14:59   comments (5)

How my garden grows

My Red Gnome hides among my Foxglove.

Pictures 2 and 3 are what I wake up to every morning. The Yarrow threatens to take over everything, but it'll have to fight the Morning Glories for space.

If I could have nothing but Lavender, I could die happy. Yes, that's a house (formerly a literbox hood) for the little Green Gnome. He complained of the harsh elements, and who I am to deny him anything.

Underneath that Morning Glory is a Fae, a trellis, and Antique English Roses.



17th Jun 2004, 14:45   comments (0)

Justin senses my nefarious plans...

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I babysat the little petrie dish with legs over the weekend. At 18 months he staggers around like a drunk at last call, and people think he's adorable, especially with his stiff-armed salute. He'll make a fine Socialist one day.

He knows the words "No", "Momma", "Mine" and he's the only person I know who can give "Car" three syllables.

He also knew that "Cars" were Outside, and Outside was must more interesting that watching Aunt Monti yell at the blank screen on her laptop.

I'll bet he took home some new words.
17th Jun 2004, 14:41   comments (2)

Absolutely

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Combining two of my favorite things - Sailor Moon and Vodka.

11th Jun 2004, 17:33   comments (8)

If only all sacrifices went as smoothly

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1st Jun 2004, 16:21   comments (5)

A road trip turns tragic

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1st Jun 2004, 16:16   comments (10)

To sleep, perchance to dream...

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1st Jun 2004, 16:14   comments (2)