Losing My Flapdoodle



I wrote the following after receiving a rejection. 

Then moi conceived a magnificent plan.

Here’s my ‘brilliant’ plan!!

I’ll write some stream of consciousness, totally woke prosepoemsmear and submit that to X submission opportunity! It will be lacking in actual grammar, structure and paternal literary merits! It will have no merit. None. Not a whiff of merit. I stayed highly aware of my own wokeness the entire time I typed that below. Did North Korea just flippin’ BOMB US?? Where is the vodka? 

If I consider ‘murica right now…I’ll start eating my bad hair. I won’t bother with a mustard chaser this time.



Flapdoodle sexbugs of Ganderv55

CarLISLE gives nothing and I rot like a dream as we rut in the leaves beneath the tree of his mother. She brings us old toast and new coffee her hair on fire from daddysexjuice and we smell her burning but she pours us coffee and scolds us about jesus who is meek and mild and full of corn. mother moother you are old news and mother directs us like traffic cones into the river of my lovers who slap me with morality. i screamed could not find my way but my carLISLE advised me to take three aspirin and stuff them in my sexbug and oooooh i discovered the sands of my own breasts and i wept because i am not awake.

we went on the sidewalk found a cup and a dead idea, took both back in our backpack and put them in a cage because it’s all we know of high heels. dream on screamed moother and we dreamed on

until father gave us gum that smelled like cinnamon whores at low tide which created ghosts in our intestines that we farted out as ironic statements of purpose for ivy schools that never considered us contenders. I WORE A YELLOW FLAPDOODLE and nobody told me I WORE A YELLOW FLAPDOODLE and I wondered why no one told me because i posted the bread pictures and everyone hit the yes button and told me yes yes yes and squirted yes juice into my burning eyes. I tire to be brilliant but the diamonds turn to rodents in my kneecaps where slime shops for canned meat and mark down cancer drugs. WHY WON’T U SLAP MEE mmmooother asked as she sliced smelly lettuce for the eternal meal

and sister, my sister is dead yet sits on my right hand better than god or allah because she gives me pink gummy bears for my sexbug slit and doesn’t need them back to glue in her scrapbook where she once glued a live frog that begged her to traditional marry it and she told it no, it wasn’t fresh and that she wanted a turtle to lay eggs in her vast pulsing worldwomb. My sister puts her hair out to be sliced and my mother slices it slices and my sister marries the frog and glues herself in the scrapbook that’s how she died and yet how she lives because i can cut her shape from the pages and stick them to my eyes so she stares at me as i paddle over the rainbutt and into the dirk

but CarLISLE won’t say. Theres nothing there and I MADE HIM UP because father asked me to and we all obey we all obey

except the cat but the cat lives on some other plane thats not here at all poor cat.

77 oh 5 hump my leg like naughty poodles of elves left in the jupitor rain and all the numbers confuse me with yearning

so i dig up the cat and the cat doesnt scratch me because mooother

cut off its soul and used it for a suncatcher but the sun stays captured in my father who hangs strips of his love on the wall like narrow rewards won at turkey shoots.

run brother run

u hav no bro says car and i curl up and shud at it all but the Ganderv55 invasive me so i sigh thru the orgi and use vanilla soap and my cookie smell sells stocks so great men can shit with ease


xmas2013 061.jpg
Molly enjoying a snooze




DISCLAIMER: Okay, so I wrote an all-over the map scream about the Tangerine Hellscape that is ‘murica right now. I might post it anyway. It’s funny. I think it’s funny. And since this is my safe space…bwha ha ha. It’s not. Because anyone casually driving by on the internet can peruse this. Anyone. Anyone!!

I will post the hysterical shriek of my scattershot thoughts, oh yes. Because it’s a primal scream. It’s probably a sub-primal scream, if that’s a thing. It seems to have come from some stagnant pool of WTF and cold dregs of coffee yet in my cup. Which is cutesy and profane at the same time! I’m no lady, I’m Bell Star! That was a line from a commercial advertising a Time-Life book, at least, that’s what I remember. And memory, as you know, is always so clear and right about everything. [It’s not, that was sarcasm] Anyway, the line was something like–” That’s no lady, that was Bell Star.” Who was a woman bandit in the Old Weste. Get it? Ye Olde Weste? Get it now?? Belle, not Bell? Anyway!! End of Disclaimer!!!


Hello, gentle sorts. I had a dream…[stop groaning and looking for another blog to glance at. I promise this is not a dream interpretation self-important self-discovery of yours truly. I promise! Or a lengthy or quick look at a certain FAMOUS SPEECH.] So. I woke up from this dream this morn panicked. Panicked, I tell ya. I had forgotten to feed my fish for several days and the tank was dirty.

Yeah. I don’t have a fish tank or pet fish. Have not had them for years. I’m talking decades. [Even though I’m perpetually twenty-nine, of course. So just barely three decades and the first one doesn’t count because I was like, um, a baby.] I felt a weird need to share that. Because I’m trying to come up with content to match my title– DANGER NOODLE.

That comes from some wag renaming animals with absurd names. I found them amusing, they amused me. I was amused! Danger noodle instead of snake. Here, the rest of them: http://pleated-jeans.com/2015/09/30/16-alternate-names-for-animals/

I’m trying to be lighthearted and frothy here because my country sucks.

It’s sucking all of us into some weird Dr. Who alternaverse. I don’t watch Dr. Who, so that might not work on any level but I feel ‘murica has been invaded by the Daleks and we’re all supposed to not notice and say only nice things to the ‘opposition’. Well, one side is supposed to say nice things [lib’ruls] and the other side can say whatever they want, except about kids.

See that Milo guy and his downfall from the graces of the American We’re-Not-Nazis But We Totally Are movement. Sexism, racism, xenophobia, homophobia, great, no problem. Raping kids, even we have to pretend we draw a line there because the public got a wee bit upset and went on Twitter mini rants, so we have to fire that guy but not change our stances on anything even a little. Yay!

Wait, gentle reader wonders, how does this chick know about Daleks, she DOESN’T WATCH DR. WHO? Gotcha!! Yeah. I got that from Eddie Izzard and other comics and assorted sorts. So, I know basically what Daleks are, I just don’t have an urge to watch Dr. Who fight them with umbrellas or whatever he actually does.

I’m sorry. I’m sure Dr. Who is a great show. I used to watch the ones when I was a kid with Tom Baker and the big long scarf. I don’t watch it now. Okay? Okay!

Now. Danger noodle!

Which is weird, about my not wanting to watch Dr. Who. Because normally I am all for those weird cult shows. Maybe it’s my version of a fish tank I don’t wish to clean and fish I wish would just starve already so I can flush them. Oooh. That was dark. Oh my.


Oh. So. Tangerine Nightmare, AKA 45, unsigned protections against transgender kids. So does that mean we can now hunt them with our ‘murican-made ‘chine guns of Awesome Murderness? Our Penisthundersticks can now be used to hunt…? Cause it seems removing protections from such a vulnerable and tiny group is just…I don’t know, asking scary-cat Jesusbillies to shoot now and not question ever later. Is that just me?? Am I having the vapors or what?? Danger noodle! Ah, that’s funny. Calling snakes ‘danger noodles’! Ha ha ha.

Here, from the New York Times:  https://www.nytimes.com/2017/02/22/us/politics/devos-sessions-transgender-students-rights.html?_r=0

Oh and Standing Rock.

If you have no idea what that is, well, ain’t you lucky. Yeah, the oil pipeline clusterfuck. Taking a big leaky oil pipe through sacred lands. [They leak, Look it up. Those big tubes carrying oil leak like mother bears.]

Standing Rock, North Dakota. Where protestors were treated like Middle Eastern terror cell operants. [Is that a word?] I mean, the military police showed up, with tanks. Rubber bullets were fired willy nilly into the crowds.

Who were not armed. Militarized local cops and actual military sorts.

Against folks waving signs who didn’t want their water sources ruined and their land defiled.

Veterans showed up to protect the protesters. Chanting and signs and refusal to just go away. For months. The pipeline goes under a section of the Missouri River known as Lake Oahe, by the way. For those of you scrambling to figure out if I’m making this up or not.


Big Oil versus Native Americans, and guess who loses?

It was a real life game of Cowboys and Indians, well, a real life game of We Want More Money Wah versus You’re Not Going to Ruin Our Water You Greedy Fucks. [That’s a mite simplistic. Others will and have written far more elegant and scholarly take downs of this tragic, awful clusterfuck of a clusterfucking mess.]

Reporters were arrested for reporting on this. 45 has stock in that company pushing for the pipeline. It’s a fucking Hollywood wet dream of an issues movie, it’s going to win bigly at the Oscars one day. With a title like Bob’s Standing Rock Stand. And [I predict!] there’s going to be a white person at the heart of it, because the White Savior trope wins bigly on Oscar Night. Danger noodle! Danger noodle! Ha ha ha.

Oh, this is all over the place, with no actual cohesive theme! This is why I don’t write essays. I am tangent girl. I go off into actual other lands and come back from the sky. What? See what I mean?

Oh and now protesters in general.

I see where in Arizona and other places, lawmakers [who can’t seem to remember they’re not little kings and queens these days] are trying to turn protesters into rioters. And then making said “rioting” illegal and prosecutable. So anyone opposed to anything going on these days…would be subject to fines and even jail.

Would that include going to town meetings with your local elected officials and demanding they explain themselves and do their damn jobs already? I think, yes, that would also be included in that Don’t Talk Back To Us attempted spate of silence the critics laws. Oh and all protesters, are, of course, being organized and paid for by George Soros, among others, who just want to Make America A Commie Playground–MAACP. My dad believes this. My brother. My aunts and uncles and…


danger noodle ha ha danger danger noodle funny yeah

Of course, since I’m kinda lib’rul [I’d so punch a racist-spouting asshat. Probably have. Ahem. I’m not a take the high road kinda gal. I’m probably a LINO, ha ha!] I’m prob’ly being too ’emotional’ to ‘rationally’ see where all this protesting is just
‘hurting’ the ‘liberal’ cause.

That if I and others protesting or even just casually mentioning some of the crappola going on lately would just…give it all a chance to smooth out and see that it’s all going to be magically okay, well…can’t we, those who are noticing and protesting and speaking out just…play nice and go along and be quiet and keep our heads down and understand it’s to MAGA?

America has been under siege for eight years and is the moist domain of carnage, blood, awfulness and elitist Hollywood types who need to keep their traps shut.

Because ‘merica is right now being raped by outer space illegal immigrants from war-torn galaxies who want to take our jobs, our prettier women, make us do heroin and vote a lot in our various elections. Not to mention take all our tax money that was going to buy more and bigly better bombs and tanks and medals for parades and instead use OUR TAX PENNIES to buy steak and lobster with their welfare checks.

danger noodle help me danger noodle help help

Did I mention I need to get back into Alice in Oregonlandia?

That I have been writing, but it’s crap I wouldn’t show to my dog, let alone another human. Except I think my junk writing, as I label it, is probably ‘better’ than anything ‘serious’ I poop out. Oh. How’s that for wretched rampant self-pity very early in the morning? Is it good enough, gentle reader/s? My country is turning into some sort of Tangerine Turd-Splattered Hellscape and the wind moans outside. Danger noodle no longer amuses right now.

Poor danger noodle. Killed by reality. Sad. There’s always trash panda! Hope reborn!
A raccoon. A raccoon is a trash panda. Why can’t I have that imagination?? Why must I be burdened with my dark and dreary gray wasteland brain country that produces indifferent zombies once in a while? Hello? God?? Can you get back to me on that? Thanks.

See? Tangent girl! Oh and…and oh dear. Rampant cutesy self-awareness. Holy balls of badly glittered homemade Christmas ornaments! Someone should go back and edit this down to just ‘danger noodle’ and ‘clusterfuck’. Sigh.