Saturday Evening Post

What a wild, expletive-filled week this has been. Some amazing things have come from it, and there is an antsy orang who wants the keyboard. the air is crisp and cool. Grab a cuppa and snuggle into a rocker. Let’s talk.

Fuck the Dumb Shit

RWB Fireworks

You are welcome to not come see this post, unless you are prepared for some drama-stopping reality. No, expletives will not be deleted. Let’s get up close and personal. Fix a big cuppa with a shot of whatever is strongest.

Hot Flash!

“I bought you the perfect gift. It’s a fully automated house helper.”

Flash is back!

Derek ran his fingers gingerly over the cool, shiny surfaces the way other men caressed inner thighs. From the time he was old enough to see over the work bench, he had dreamed of this day. He had flown out the day the attorney call to say his father’s will was to be opened.

Saturday Evening Post

green down arrow

The first Saturday of the year and the 91st Saturday Evening Post. It is colder and windier than I like, so snuggle into a rocker with a warm blanket and grab a cuppa. There is a little something to warm it in the carafe, if you are so inclined. Let’s talk.