A Small Cup of Coffee?


“Ain’t nuttin wrong with a cup of coffee, definitely not nuh-ub! But, if you dare to pour me a small one, then shame on you. If I drink it willingly, guess shame on me?” Gun Roswell

A Small Cup of Coffee?

Size really does matter, when it comes to coffee, because you know, nobody just wants one cup of the stuff, especially if it is a small one, espresso or not.

So, when being a good host for a guest, friend or foe, always be prepared to offer them the more, meaning at coffee time, which is pretty much any time, always always always, bring out the big guns, i.e large cups filled with coffee!

Thank you very much!

Life is full of ups and downs

“Life, well, it is a funny thing, life, isn’t it. Just filled with all kinds of surprises, mostly never good,  but yeah, guess it’s all good“ Gun Roswell

Life is full of ups and downs

The never ending rollercoaster, which some of us, call life, the never ending circle of ups and downs, mostly those kinds, making most of us frown, as where the ups are concerned, there is usually several more downs coming in return.

Never trust a smiling cat, nor an up at that, because you’ll know it’s gonna come with a payment, which oh so totally burns!

Monday Morning and another Cup of Coffee

“There is always time for coffee, morning, noon, day or night time, it’s all just fine, if you really enjoy the dark liquid kind and to have a cup of it, when you see fit” Gun Roswell

Monday Morning and another Cup of Coffee

There is always room for coffee, in the stomach, someone said, even if it was some other time a clock, usually not associated with the fine sustenance of a dark liquid, but if one was prepared, for the full effect of the stuff, then drinking a cup or two, would suit, no matter the hour, as long as the face did not go sour, simply because the lack of coffee, was ever present, so, better satisfy the urge and have that drink of it, the coffee, in a cup, or a mug or even jug it directly from the pot!

Because believe it or not, those rules and regulations for sleeping and consumables, was most likely created by someone who hated the stuff, both coffee and well, food and perhaps even people, as all of us, are mostly individuals and so, enjoying the good stuff, coffee, does not have to be at any given hour, even midnight will do simply fine.

Cat a contemplating

“The cats are serious animals, constantly thinking about life around them, that is until they take their very long nap” Gun Roswell

Cat a contemplating

The cat with a curious mind, sat on the side of the small yard, keeping a watchful eye, on the passers by, after all, this time of the day, there was a lot of foot traffic around the immediate area for the cat to slay at least in their minds eye to spy, if nothing else.

Never moving, as it was quite soothing, sitting there, without the need to be some place else, only real thing to do, to contemplate as to the why’s of these Hoomans and their constant hurry, to move somewhere else all the time as this place, at least for the cat was completely fine.

Whatever it was which kept them all moving, back and forth each and every single day, not as much as a decent nap for their weary heads to down lay, the cat still deep in thought, really could not fathom what the point was, making them all just pass and never stopping, not even for a small tap on the head of this furry feline of a softling.

But, whatever it was, the cat deduced it was an internal must for them to forever keep moving, but then feeling bored as this was hardly doing the cat any favours, becoming less and less vigilant, the sounds of birds and insects around them beckoning for a change of pace and so, the cat pounced and started to follow, the smaller creatures instead of the hollow pursuit of the Hoomans, feeling much more satisfied of the change and so, after a while, for a nap the cat laid.

What ever floats in my mind! Part Two

“Every writer I know has trouble writing” Joseph Heller

What ever floats in my mind!

I woke up, when I was born, no sooner, no later. That was as stupid an opening line as “Once upon a time” or “It was a cold and rainy night”, but I thought I was being clever in starting the tale with a joke. You who follow my writing may have noticed the humouristic twist in most tales, at least at some point. For the life of me, I cannot write serious, not matter how I try. Maybe I would have a career in joke writing or scetches for “Saturday Night Live” or similar shows.

OK, so the agreed process for this tale is: Absolutely no censorship in this tale, my mind freely flowing as my fingers do the typing. I am no longer in command of this vessel. What ever is written on these pages is purely fictional as produced by the army of voices living in my head. I was thinking of cheating of course, thinking before writing, plotting my way into this tale.

After emerging from the deep state I was in, I decided to finally let go, to leave it alone, to not think too much and see what will develop. Apart from the typos caused by my fingers not being able to keep up, this is all just a flow of the mind. I know it is crowded in there, despite the fact the sign implies there is “room for rent”. My occupants like to play tricks on me and those who might take a glimpse to my brain.

Funny things those renters of mine. I prefer to use that word rather than thinking this is a permanent situation. I do hope, that, at some point the other voices will take their leave and I can finally make decisions on my own. Whether that be writing or something else. Mostly it is writing though. When I do decide to let go, the writing is usually good, so I really shouldn’t be taking any credit. But someone once said, A good writer borrows, a great writer steals.

Oh, oh, I am stuck now, either the others went on a break or then they are all napping. I am actually wondering how familiar and TV-oriented this sounds. I do sound like a Borg drone from Star Trek, don’t I. “I can’t hear the others, I need the others to survive!” must be the most quoted line in the franchise when the Borg characters are in play.

But I digest, I mean digress ;P

Flow of mind or the lack there of. A while back I wrote a funny note on my mind having too many tabs open. Oddly enough, that was not fiction but fact. I do like to dabble more on the fiction than the fact side, never getting too personal, but I have a warm feeling inside of me. Guess I am safe as long as it doesn’t run down my legs! But so far so good.

So, back to fact or fiction, was that what I was talking about? No, it was the thing of too many things occupying the brain at one point, hence the tabs and open thing. OK, back on track. So yes. That actually has a link to the ever so talked about writer’s block. The only blockage I have or have had for the past fifty odd years is or was the fact that I do censor myself, a lot. I have so many ideas, causing my mind to overflow.

Currently, as I started my writing life for the third and hopefully charmed time, I will let myself write what ever I want, who ever I want and where ever I want. Sans all the self doubt, drama and excuses. Oh my! Now I am finally getting serious! I actually got a little serious there a day or so back when I poured my heart and thoughts to a few darker poems. I admit I use humour as a cover and rather than dwelling on real life issues, I crack a joke.

I freely admit to the following personality traits: I am sarcastic, pessimistic, I have a warped sense of humour, I am spontaneous yet conscious, I am lazy, but also industrious, at least when work is concerned, personal life not so much. So now you know. I like to hide but remain right in the open. I talk a lot, but say nothing.

Back to the topic again, (I seem to be loosing the track now constantly), what ever that was, I actually forgot at this point. Oh yes, free flow of the mind. So not a jogy, not a Vulcan, not logical, just your average everyday humanoid being. So that is my life story or sort of story. At least what I came up with today. I guess this is more than four hundred words. I don’t know how much of myself I have revealed in this little mind tale, but read between the lines or over the lines. Somewhere there, between, lies the truth.

Just call me, Mrs Claus

“Santa has it great. I buy all the toys. He gets all the credit.” Mrs Claus

Just call me, Mrs Claus

You may call me, Mrs Claus
Without applause
Doing my bid
Without one single payment of a quid
Yuletide
Without this, proud bride
Of Santa Claus
Would be, just empty banter
No kind of jolly
Or celebration folly
Neither for me
Or even, for you

Forty-Seven, Part three

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I no longer believe in the Easter Bunny,
and I’m beginning to wonder about Santa Claus.
But I believe wholeheartedly in 47”
Sarah Dolinar

Forty-Seven

The Culprit:

Maybe I am an alien
With a devilish plan

“Hello, I am Specialist 47
Delighted to make your acquaintance
Please find attached my credentials
For some mind maintenance”

Resident of Earth since 1947
Successfull mind melds, total of 47 000 000 047
47 more years to beat
Until my mission is complete

My contact information
4747 Galaxy Boulevard
A short promenade
A right down the hall
Or give me a call
My mobile number 555-4747
Thank you for your confirmation

Forty-Seven, Part two

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“Forty-seven, is a constant, Forty-seven will make you go far, Forty-seven, yeah, that is my number by far” Gun Roswell

Forty-Seven

The Homage:

How phenomenal
Quite Astrological
Completely magical
Oh so mythical
Like a rock star

My profound respect
I am fundamentally perplexed
How very puzzling
Even a little hustling
Quite the dazzling

You are… the Culprit

Forty-Seven, Part One

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“I no longer believe in the Easter Bunny,
and I’m beginning to wonder about Santa Claus.
But I believe wholeheartedly in 47”
Sarah Dolinar

Forty-Seven

The Proof:

The time is now, 00.47
Roswell 1947
Film, 47 Minutes
Waterford Greenwich 47-piece Flatware Set
Exit 47
47 followers
London Bus Routes – 47/N47
4711 Eau de toilette
Level 47 Walkthrough
Agent 47
47 Ronin
U.S. Code › Title 47
The 47 Society
47 likes on Facebook page
47 mints in the box

Fences won’t keep me from coffee!

“There is nothing wrong with loving coffee, too much, that is!” Gun Roswell

Fences won’t keep me from coffee!

They built the tall fences, to keep me away from my precious
They tried hard to surround me, with something else to see
They underestimated me though, as I will surely them all show
They cannot keep me apart, from the one which holds my heart

But, no amount of impenetrable barriers so bold, will be able to let me grab a hold
Of the only special and soothing one, whom knows what I am and what I have done
The only thing in this whole wide world, with which without into turmoil I would be hurled
And being the one, keeping me sane, through all the daily hassle and underlying pain

So, I will do my best and damndest, to push though and do not care less
If cuts and bruises I will retain, all along the way, until I am finally through
And then, you my dear and sweet thing, I will finally be able to cradle
On the palms of my hands, as even if bruised they will soon be on the mend

After I have had, my first cup of coffee before the looming of the day