Phoenix: A chicken butt rises from the ashes and buys a National Enquirer

It was tough rising from the ashes this morning.

Chicken Phoenix Butt was minimally functioning at dawn.

2 cats and a husband had invaded the bed, purring, snoring and stretching.

CPB had decided to watch the Donald, Ted and John K, on CNN.

Thankfully, it played over and over again, and CPB was able to catch a glimpse here and there, at 10pm, 1am, 3am and finally at 430am of Anderson Cooper replaying the night’s antics.

A video played of a reporter and a campaign manager.

I have now seen that video 210 times.

I still don’t know what the hell happened.

Donald has decided to hand out nuclear bombs to Japan and S Korea.  He loves retail sales.

Ted is pouting over Donald’s attack on his wife and kids, and is refuting his involvement with bimbos.

John wanted to talk about the issues, but in this day and age, who cares?

It’s much more fun to look at the alleged assaults, nude photos and comparison of wives.

Then Donald delivers a punch:  Women who have abortions should be punished.

And Ted refuses to live up to his promise to support the republican nominee.

John is trying like hell to discuss the issues, but….

The public has decided that the National Enquirer has the real story.

Meanwhile, Hill is still trying to collect $1 from her loyal supporters, while Bernie goes to Rite Aid for another supply of depends.

Hey, he can afford it.

Social Security pays for it.

Ok, so the Chicken Butt is a little out of whack tonight, waiting for the knight in shining armor, to take the reins.

My fellow Americans:

What in the hell is going on?







Don’t go. But if you do, I will be there, to bug the %@5@%@% out of you.

7am:  Walk into a coffee shop.

Hey, how are you?

How about a bagel with cream cheese and a coffee?

Get to talking with the gal who is toasting the bagel.

She had a wild night.

A tree fell on her car.

It was one heck of a windy night.

How in the hell does she look so put together?

And then there is me.

Totally wild and disengaged, whatever that is.

Drove into the parking lot, at 740am, at work.

Saw the lone female goose.


Life can be so cruel.

Weathered the storms of the day.

And then I wondered, still I wondered, Who’ll stop the rain?

At 5pm, time to head on out.

Hey hey!

My my

Bring me a drink or I will cry.

I enter the bar and see my buddies:

Mark, Carol, Cait and Dave:

Let’s toast to each other, to this day and to this moment.

What a wonderful feeling it is to be together.

And then the news:

Dave is heading to Florida.

Good luck to you, my friend.

You deserve the best.

Hey, Cait!  Another double, please.

Excuse me while I drink and sneeze.

The crowd sauntered in.

Oh Chicken Butt, please, don’t be a goof.

As Pink Floyd said, “Chicken B, leave those kids alone.”

She didn’t.

My, my

Hey Hey

What a wonderful time we had today.

See you next time, Carol and Dave.

Love you two, even if you go away.

Just remember, when you think the coast is clear,

The Chicken Butt is always near.

And her next trip?

Tampa Bay.






Oh the way Glenn Miller played…..

There I was.

Ready to take on the world.


Ahead of time.

Raring to go.

Turned on the computer.


No drive.

Picked up the phone.


No dial tone.

Now what?

Clean my desk?

Why not?


Pancakes in the freezer.

Finished that and decided to walk around.


Guess what?

No, not chicken butt.

No phone, no pc.

Most say, “Why?”

Chicken Thigh?

Waiting for IT to show up.

Is there any hope for my misery?

Looked for the age old remedy of written notes, of processes, to review.

When that was accomplished, I thought about the years that I had worked without a PC and without a phone.

What the heck did I do all day?

At 10am, Gary happened to walk by, and within a blink of his eye, fixed the problem.

Phone was ringing, emails were zinging, and I was back on my game.

And from then on, the day went down hill.

If only Gary had not walked by…..

Oh the good old days.



A break from the norm

Sometimes I think that we all need a break from the norm.

Get the hell out of Dodge, once in awhile, and trip the light fandango.

It doesn’t mean we aren’t devoted to our mates, our children, our families, our friends.

It just means we need a little space to kick back, get down, and act like a lunatic.

For me?  Grab my chicken butt hat and choose a spot to land.

Once landed, engage those fortunate. or not so fortunate persons who are in my immediate focus.

Hey hey My My!

What’s your name?

Have you always been this gorgeous?

Haven’t we met before?

On another planet?

In another life?

Can I buy you a drink?

Hey, wait.

I know you.

You are George Clooney.

No, let’s be realistic.

You are much more handsome than George.;

The dialogue continues through the evening.

And then, George gets loaded and I call a taxi, to take George home.

I continue to drink the rest of the George’s under the table, to prove that this Cougar is outrageous. outlandish and out of control.

And when it is time to leave, to head back to reality,  I pause, and wish everyone a happy life.

Sometimes, my friends, an escape from reality is all we need, to regroup, to act silly and to realize that nothing in life can take the place of living in the moment.


We all need an escape every now and then.

Just do it.

When life hits you so hard that you can’t laugh, when it gets so serious that you lose your sense of humor, take a time out, join the chicken butt in an evening of nonsense, and laugh until you cry.



Marching into spring

Time marches on.

Another work week over, the 4th work week so far in March.

One to go.

It seems that the days and weeks are zooming along at an alarming pace, so far, in 2016.

The winter months traditionally slow us down.

We retreat into our homes, finding warmth and comfort from the biting winds and bitter cold.

This year, not so much.

At least, not here, in Pennsylvania.

It was a relatively mild winter, with only one major snow event.

Ok, so that was a doozy.

But once we got over the shock of a season’s snow fall in one day, we enjoyed an unusually mild winter.

There are signs of spring now.

The landscapers are back on the scene, along with the geese, who are waiting for their little ones to be born in a few weeks.

Daffodils are springing up, and the green houses are selling Easter lilies.

Spring fever has its hold on me.

I take a break for lunch, just to get outside.

I am tired of sweaters and heavy coats, of wearing gloves and boots.

Give me some bright colored shirts and pants, and a new pair of walking shoes.

I feel a sense of relief, as we move into April.

I can’t wait to see the leaves appear on the trees, and the spring flowers to bloom.

It is a fact, that spring is my favorite season of the year.

Everything comes alive.

It is the time of the year that reminds me of hope, youth and possibilities.

And I am so very grateful that I am still here, on this planet, this day in March, 2016, to enjoy the miracle of this life.

Happy Easter everyone!





My first love: Music

What goes up, must come down.

Momma’s got a squeeze box.

What’s your name?

Who’s your Daddy?

It’s a gas! gas! gas!

Would you like to ride in my beautiful balloon?

Dream on.

The times: they are changing

Freedom stands for nothing else to lose.

Every one  must get stoned.

I was standing on a corner in Winslow Arizona.

Major Tom?

Thunder only happens when it’s raining.

In the house of the rising sun.

Hello, my friend hello.

Angie?  Angie…..

If there’s a bustle in your hedgerow, don’t be alarmed now.

Come on baby, light my fire.


I’m a picker. I’m a grinner.

Listen to the music.

There’s a bad moon on the rise.

I saw a werewolf drinking a pina colada at Trader Vics.  His hair was perfect.

Girls just want to have fun.

Can you feel the love tonight?

You can check out any time you want, but ….

If I leave here tomorrow, will you remember me?

Just spit me out.

Goodnight, Irene.

I love you just the way you are.


Until the next time, remember:  Music has a way of forming our beliefs.

Last comment: You are so beautiful to me.



Emily Dickenson and Dominic

Hello Dominic.

Who are you?

I am nobody.

Are you nobody too?

Dominic can’t hear too well.

He is elderly.

Hey, like I ain’t?

He has been golfing today in Eastern Pa, enjoying the 70 degree weather.

He walks in, alone, has a beer and no one talks to him.

Oh yeah?

The chicken butt strikes up a conversation with Dom.

I call him Dom.

I ask him if he is Italian?

He gives me a look that says:  “Hey you idiot, of course I am.”

He tells me his life story.

What a lovely person.

Can I buy you a beer, Dom?

No, Chicken Buttafucco.  I am on my way home.

I said:  “Hope to see you again, Dom.”

We high 5.

I doubt that I will run into Dom again.

It really doesn’t matter.

For tonight, I had a wonderful time, listening to Dom reflect on his family, his love of golf and his political views.

As he walked out the door, I smiled to myself.

What a perfectly lovely man, retired, devoting the rest of his years to taking care of his family, yet finding time for golf and an occasional beer.

I thought I detected a spring in his step as he left the establishment.

Cheers, Dominic!

So happy to have had the opportunity to talk to you.

I hope someday we will meet again.

So many people in this world.

Strangers, until we meet.

And then, BFFs forever.


Now is the time for our leaders to step forward

Woke up to the news in Brussels.

Innocent people on their way home, or to work, or on vacation, their lives changed forever.

Such randomness.

Is anyone safe?

Can we ever be sure that we are secure?

Maslow says that we need to feel safe, to be able to climb the ladder of self actualization.

Does anyone feel safe today?

There are those who intend to destroy our lives, if not with their bombs and guns, then with their threats.

It could be that the fear of what could happen, is just as devastating as the act of terror, itself.

So, we can choose to hide and hope that we stay safe, or we can take each day as a gift on this planet, and regardless of our circumstances, live it to the fullest.

As we go about our simple routines, we interact with so many others, and that gives us unlimited possibilities to brighten someone’s day. It may not be in a life changing way, but a kind act is rarely forgotten and most often appreciated.

This evening, the news continues from Brussels.

I cannot imagine the sorrow and pain that the Belgium people are feeling.

Who are these cruel, mad people who want to destroy whatever goodness exists?

Tonight, we grieve, for Belgium, as we resolve to form a union across the globe to defeat those who want to destroy this amazing planet.

And tomorrow, may the leaders of all the countries in our world pledge to work together to defeat those who wish to destroy us.

I know it can be done.

If only…..




Drum roll: A Monday to remember.

Hello my friends, enemies and those who don’t give a rat’s ass.

May I intrude on your thoughts this evening?

Just to share with you the highlights of my day?

I got an email from George Clooney.

Really, I did.

He wanted me to donate a dollar to Hillary’s campaign.

And if I did, I would have a chance to fly to his home in LA, and have dinner.

I called him and said:  “Is Amal gonna be there?”

“Yes she is.”

Needless to say, I declined.

I highly doubt if Amal can stand the competition if I showed up, and I refuse to be the reason for another Hollywood breakup.


I got a call from Jim.

“Can you bring me home a salad?”

Yes!!!!! I don’ t have to fix that awful left over liver tonight.

I called my favorite Italian restaurant and ordered a grilled chicken salad.

The owner answered.

How did he know it was me?

I told him I need a salad and I would be there at 5pm.

He said,  “I doubt it.  It is now 3 minutes til 5pm.”

Ok, so I meant I was leaving at 5pm, but I couldn’t.

A customer called and needed help.

It wasn’t my customer, but if you know me, I put on my papal hat to pretend I could save the world.

Ok, so  not the world, but I just can’t helping those who have no other recourse than to reach out to the chicken butt.

20 minutes later, I am on my way to pick up the salad.

The owner has the salad ready.

He says, “Hey what happened?  I thought you said you would be here at 5, but we knew it was impossible, since you called at 458pm.”

Yeah, ok.

So I drove to my watering hole.

“Hey, we were worried about you”, said the regulars.

“You are late.”

Am I in a rut? Predictable?

I had a few of my usual “orange drinks”, just like Truman Capote used to have.

Excuse me, but I have no idea why I mentioned that.

3 strangers walked in and acted like they knew me.

“My my, hey hey!  Nice to see you again!”

Who in the hell are these people?

One of them said, “I am sorry if I offended you the other night.”

Shoot.  I wish he would have elaborated on that.

Now, I am home.

Jim ate his salad.

The cats are fed.

I feel like this was a Monday to be remembered.

Just like every other day is a day to be remembered.

I love living in the moment.

Hope you and I will be here tomorrow, to enjoy another day on this planet,

Not sure why we are here, or what we are all about, but I do enjoy every one I meet, and can’t wait to see you again.




Remind me not to do anymore cooking

So, Jim says, “I could go for liver and onions.”

I should have just gone out to a restaurant and brought some home.

But being the ultimate homemaker, I decided to give it a shot.

Fry bacon.

Save the grease.

Drench the liver in flour.

Brown it and cook about 5 minutes per side.


Add onions, in that greasy old liver pan and caramelize them.


Not that I have ever tried to eat liver and onions, and I definitely will not be doing that any time soon, but that stuff is gross.

I have candles burning to eliminate the memory and the smell of the cooked organ.

There are leftovers.

Oh great.

Jim wants the rest for dinner tomorrow night.

I will have to stop for at least 2 doubles before I come home to that lovely scene.

Now  the cats are hungry.

They want chicken and liver, of course.

Here’s a thought:  serve them the left over liver and tell Jim that the cats went wild and ate it.

Or I could tell him I left the liver on the kitchen counter and when I finished the dishes, it disappeared.  It was probably a ghost who has been haunting this old house who ate it.

How about this:  The liver looked so delicious,  that I ate it.

He won’t believe it.

I guess I will just have to suck it up and fix it tomorrow night.  After all I was a Junior Bluebird, in my youth, and a Junior Bluebird is always cheerful and happy, especially after a few doubles.