Thursday, June 16, 2016

Cloudy, cooler after last nights rain; we humped out at 100 degrees when the rains came.

I was feeling loggy this morning – I spent some time last night honoring Dogs alerts. He was very watchful and seemed to have zero’d on one of his favorite hates. One of the dopers. A fellow the sheriffs deputies have fingered as a dealer, and experience has taught me an individual of self gratification and impulse.

All of which means I woke with a perverted sense of anger which I too out on my imagination.

It started with me concocting a story about Amy. Amy wasn’t a very nice person. Hated by her parents, despised by her siblings, overly proud of her marginal body – 34-26- 36 – she was constantly finding fault with the best lain plans and grumpy about  the shininest finishes on anything.

It’s a wonder she finished High School, but as  she said, it isn’t the education that counts but the ability to give the answers wanted. Cynical witch.

I finished my coffee,, fed the Dog and fed the cattle, ate a piece of pizza left over from two days ago (it’d only been left out of the fridge over night one day), and found I was still hungry, but let it go. Coffee will do until two of the clock.

Then I decided, for some reason, to Google Cyprus. I didn’t. I used Bing. Bing gave e several choices:

Cyprus Women

Cyprus Maps

Cyprus this and that, and finally; Cyprus men.

Now I’m not into men, you understand. I will give you the first picture  Bing gave me featuring Cyprus men:


I quickly returned to Cyprus Women, and then found the section pertaining to Beautiful Women of Cyprus.

I’m now into my fifth cup of coffee and the cloud cover is departing. And I wish I hadn’t eaten that pizza.


From the reaches,

Ten Whiskey

About tenwhiskey

User tenwhiskey is also the author of this blog. He currently lives in small town Kansas in a semi-retired condition. His kids are married and gone (thank you). An empty nester. Divorced. Very happy with life as it is. Ten Mile maintains a personal blog here, writing of events as they appear to him; commentary, and opinions abound. He deviates into fiction as the mood strikes and creates flash fiction stories and short stories. He will not warn the reader when he drifts from fact to fiction. He feels adults are, generally, smart enough to figure out which is which. He does, however, attempt to make his fiction sound as true to life as possible. You have been warned. He, as time permits, writes and occasionally sells writing. More often than not he gives it away to various non-paying publishers of Ether Magazines, forums or for entertainment on a wall for in need of a hand friends. He likes candy, pies and a certain amount of strife. In the matter of strife - in his yourth on the farm, he became embroiled in a slinging fight. The fight involved lath as a launcher, fresh cow patties as ammo and it was a six way free for all. A little mud only adds (Umm?) a certain taste to life.
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