Vegans Are Sexy!

I am certinly voting for Kucinich and am looking forward to watching him on the debate on PBS tonight. He is the candidate for peace.

As humans we have an inherent right to be safe and I respect that right in others, no matter where they are born or what language they speak. Killing will never teach or convince others not to kill. The death penalty is one of those "do as I say, not as I do" acts that the US is becoming all too well known for. The slaughter in Iraq is only provoking more violence! Stop! Stop! Stop! I know that one day in the not too distant future, this administration will be brought up against the world court on crimes against humanity charges. Of course, George Bush will likely react to this the same way he's responding to being subpoenaed.

He won't get away with it though.

I am of this 35% of registered, voting democrats they refer to, but will be truly sexy when I am of the .02% of Americans who are vegans, like Dennis.


Lit 101 Submission: A Really Happy Hour

A Really Happy Hour

Lazy and lonely, Beth called her girlfriends from work to see if their usual happy hour antics were planned for today. Only Janis called her back and the two friends went to Lovejoys to play pool, drink, and support each other while they flirted with guys.

After two hours of this, they decided to pull out the big guns and began to hold hands and kiss, something the media told them men couldn’t resist. Before too long, they went home with each other.

They really had a nice time on their Lady’s Night Out and decided to do it more often.

See what can happen in 101 words! It's fun. Check out the new No Cure For That
content. There are more of these little ditties there. I really like Rob Bloom's short story also, very clever.


Grocery List

I do not know what anything is for:
Soap, foil, belts, bags, toothpicks, bulbs, and drugs.
More, more, more!
These are the things we buy in the store.
Pile it up. Pile it up. Pile it up high!
"Better to have than have not,"
They always say.
The "they" I refer to, we all know and love.
The "they" I refer to is our great Big Bro.
But I didn't have a big brother, you see
And am not quite comfortable with "him" telling me what to be.


I miss you, Ronya!

I took something I read yesterday a little personally and am needing to remind myself that while it might be the path of some to examine the flaws of the external world in order to change it, my own path seems to be somewhat different. I really appreciate all of the voices on the web that I see speaking up for those who are suffering, including Americans who are living in a corporate tyranny. Mine is a role more subtle, more personal. The following is a song/ poem I wrote several years ago and it has just sat in my head and on the original piece of paper in some box somewhere for a long time, except that my German friend Ronya sings it sometimes with my permission. I was a single mother for several years, but am not now and do not smoke anymore. Maybe I found my inner limousine, maybe not. While others yell and scream to do it, I like to whisper in the ear, "It's time to wake up."

I'm Trying to Find my Soul Mate

I'm trying to find my soul mate in a limousine
While I'm looking in the dumpsters.
Where's the in between?
I smoke my natural cigarettes,
Half a pack a day,
While I'm reading herbal texts
Trying to heal this cough away.
"I'm teaching people how to live,"
Is what I tell my kids
As I yell at them,
"Not right now!"
Something's got to give!

'Cause, living life is easier
To read about in books.
I sold my best friend's soul
To avoid her dirty looks.
That's the point, I guess;
Living life ain't clean.
All those tragic endings
Are better than they seemed.

So, one day I looked into the mirror.
10,000 shadow voices saying,
"Listen to us here!
We need a little loving!
We need some honest touch!"
So, I put on my skimpy dress
And merged with my inner slut.

That dress it did work
Like the mirror said it would.
I got more looks and calls that day
Than anybody should.
I'm telling my three boyfriends,
"I like women too."
If I could just find a limousine,
I'd be feeling pretty good!

But, living life is easier
To read about in books.
I sold my best friend's soul
To avoid her dirty looks.
That's the point, I guess;
Living life ain't clean.
All those tragic endings
Are better than they seemed.

My kids, they woke up
Though they slept pretty late.
Why does it always surprise me
They need food on their plates.
At least something can distract me
From all these contradictions.
Nothing does that quite so well
As three days of dishes.


He's Coming! He's Coming! He's Coming!

My mind is afire today. I wish someone would ask me a question that was actually interesting. I am feeling sad for the imminent further decline of the ocelot as the big fence is constructed to further divide nature into proprietory portions. Someone handed me four tickets to Norah Jones last night and I passed them on; what's wrong with me?

Curious Complacency

yearning burning churning
listen glisten christen
chime grime sublime
seek cheek peak
grope slope cope
twitching bitching hitching
fear hear near
hurl girl twirl
rant chant grant
his fizz says
be free see


Fortuitous Findings

Hi, I'm Freida Bee, wordly, womanized ranter. I am suspiscious, thrifty, and typical. Welcome to my blogoliciousness. I'll post poetic mischief, mundane morosities, and prophetic priorities. And I will not always write with such annoyingly verbose stylings. I'll speak what's on my mind and hope that you'll respond and give tantalizing discourse. Why else would I spend my time here?


Juicy germinating ideas
Give greatness to generally
Obscure obfuscators.

Relative relational anonymity
Frees one to express
Radical railings.

Formerly surpressed subordinants
Initially thrive in such
Corrosive cowardice.