The Stupid Annoying Situation

Almost every morning, as I walk my children to school, I have to step over fast food trash, used condoms and empty containers of lube left on the sidewalk next to my house. I don’t know who is leaving the mess but since it’s a repeat offender, I know it’s one of my neighbors.

I’m annoyed with having to clean up the mess so I’ve come up with some solutions that may stop my neighbor’s piggish behavior.

Step 1: Post a NO LITTERING sign on my fence in plain sight where the offense usually takes place.

 I know the first question is: Do litterbugs even know how to read? I must assume the answer is yes and if the sign can deter further littering then it’s well worth it. If by chance that has no affect on said offender then I will try Step 2.

Step 2: Leave a note on the car of the offender.

 Sometimes private humiliation is a good deterrent. I won’t threaten him or use coarse language like I’d like to but I will merely let him know that his actions have not gone unnoticed by the neighborhood and to please stop leaving trash on the sidewalk and street.  If by chance that has no affect on said offender then I will try Step 3.

Step 3: Gather the trash left on the sidewalk and street then leave it on the offender’s doorstep with a note.

The note will be simple. “Dear Neighbor, You left your trash on the sidewalk again. Please remember to dispose of your garbage in a trashcan and help keep our neighborhood clean. Thanks!” If he still does not change his piggish ways then I will try Step 4.

Step 4: I will park both my large vehicles along side my house leaving too little space for anything short of a smart car, which will force the litterbug to park farther away from his own house.

Since he has made inconveniences for me, all I can do is return the favor. I won’t slash his tires or bust all his car windows either because, he knows where I live and nothing would stop him from vandalizing my property. Therefore, all I can do is keep smiling while being a total bitch.

I should mention that there is a Step 5. It’s risky. It’s dangerous. It would work. The litterbug just happens to masturbate in front of my 4 year old daughter’s bedroom window and even though he’s in his car; he is still in front of her window. All I have to do is mention that to my Six9 - oh so protective of his daughter - husband and the offender would get a not so pleasant personal visit. 

THE BROTHERS

When I was about 5 years old, I lived on a quiet street. I was the only kid on the block so my one dream was to have potential friends move onto my block or at least close by. One summer day, a large moving truck was parked in front of the house across from mine. Days before, the people living in that house were evicted then the house was sold at auction. I sat and waited across the street staring at the house. Will they have kids my age? Will they be nice? The following weekend, my dream came true.

I was at the playground when I noticed two new boys riding their bikes. They liked to ride fast like me. When they stopped at the jungle gym to play, I approached them. We were the same size except for one was a little taller than me. The tall one had brown hair and eyes. His name was Adam. The other one was Riley. He had blond hair and blue eyes.

“Hi Guys! I’m Jacob. What’s your name?”

Adam approached me, “I’m Adam and that’s my brother, Riley. How old are you?”

“I’m five.”

“That’s cool. I’m seven,” said Adam.

Then Riley ran up to us and spoke to Adam, “Who’s this?”

“I’m Jacob.” I said looking at Riley. “How old are you, Riley?”

“I’m seven,” said Riley

Then Adam added, “Yeah, but I’m a few months older. Do you have a bike?”

“Yeah,” I answered.

“If you get it, we can ride around the playground,” said Adam.

“Ok! I‘ll ask my mom,” I was excited. “I’ll be right back Guys.”

“I call being the leader first!” said Riley.

Then Adam said, “I call second!”

The rest of the story can be found in Life Happens: The Short Story Collection available on Amazon.com and Kindle. https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=r+jozwiakowski

Sonnet to Him

The sky still sleeps as darkness weeps with cool silence.

I lie awake in the quiet my thoughts of you while you think of me.
I am aware of your love-struck loyalty and every year you prevail with politeness.
Your forged public loyalty is laughable and obvious to me.

This undying, unrelenting connection between you and me has no room for denial.

In dreams I see your eyes and hear your voice.
We smile.
We reunite in waves of warm wet tenderness submerged in passion but not by choice.

What is this strange connection?

So unbreakable our unconsciousness’ seized and thrust together.
The unsaid words between us hold more meaning than perfection.
Mere thoughts devour my heart plunging it deeper sealing the link forever.

After the union we are released to our restless faux covets able to function in light.

Our true selves only exposed once again in the night.

By The Sword

Acacia was an A student. At least she was until she finished the 10^th grade. She blamed her teacher, Miss Harris for a long time. Looking back, it was the day of the final exam in Miss Harris’ class that changed everything. Class was two hours long. At the sound the bell, Miss Harris handed out the final. There were 3 essay questions and 50 multiple choice questions covering the last 6 novels read by the class.

Acacia finished her exam in record time, about 45 minutes. She rushed to the front of the class with her test and handed it to Miss Harris. Miss Harris whispered, “Don’t you want to go over your essays and answers? You have plenty of time, Acacia.”

 Acacia responded, “No, it’s good enough for an A. I’d rather just go.”

Concerned, Miss Harris said, “Acacia, you know the rules during finals. No students are permitted to leave the classroom until the bell. Did you make special arrangements?”

“No.”

“Then you need to take a seat and read or prepare for your next final.”

“I have to go to work! So I need to go now!” Acacia was getting heated.

“Acacia, if you leave, I have to give you an F on your exam and report you to the principal’s office.”

“Fuck you Bitch!”

The rest of the story can be found in Life Happens: The Short Story Collection available on Amazon.com and Kindle. https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=r+jozwiakowski

A Cycle of Life

One spring morning two doves worked tirelessly to build a nest in a planter that hung from my porch. The doves were precious. They cooed at each other and mated on my doorstep. Soon there were three eggs in the nest. Both doves took turns keeping the eggs warm. One bird stayed during the night then in the morning, the other bird would arrive to relieve its mate.

I was not the only one to notice the dove’s routine for there was a big, fat, cockeyed, brown and white cat lurking nearby. I chased the cat away but I knew the doves and the eggs were doomed. The next day upon my return home from morning errands, I walked the path to the front door and noticed two large areas on the lawn that were covered with feathers. My front doorstep was also covered in feathers. The nest was empty.

The Pleasures of Yard Work

I do enjoy yard work but the next day I always feel like I competed in a triathlon and placed second - a close second - which in itself is remarkable for I was the only female competing with a bunch of 20-something year old men. And they were all good looking too - very good looking. I can’t tell you how many times I was approached for my phone number. Okay, so I was never approached but that was because I had such a huge lead. I mean, really, must yard work be so hard on my body? It’s not like I don’t workout but obviously my workouts don’t measure up to trimming a hedge, raking and sweeping. I must be old.

HIGH HOPES

One Sunday morning, Emmett awoke with a jump! “Glory be to Jesus! Milly, wake up!” He shook Mildred from a dead sleep.

“Are you okay Emmett?” said Mildred very concerned.

“Saints Alive Milly! Saints Alive!”

“Are you having a heart attack Emmett? I’m gonna get the doctor on the line.” Mildred moved to reach for the phone at her bedside.

“No woman! I’m as fit as ever. I had a vision!”

Emmett and Mildred Denard were simple people. They lived a modest life in their little two-bedroom house on a quiet street. Emmett worked as a bus driver while Mildred was a cashier at the local grocery market. Together they went to church every Sunday and bible study Wednesday evenings. They very much loved the Lord.

The rest of the story can be found in Life Happens: The Short Story Collection available on Amazon.com and Kindle. https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=r+jozwiakowski

The Apathetic Fool

Dane never considered anyone but himself. Usually that’s the case for an only child but Dane was the youngest of 10 children even though his closest sibling was 15 years older than him. Dane was still loved by his mother as best she could until she died when he was 3 years old. Dane’s father was never a hands-on daddy unless Dane needed a spanking and his wife’s death hardened him even more so Dane was sent to live with one of his sisters.

Betsy was married and had children of her own but they were teenagers. Betsy took Dane in but loved him as only a sister could in that she looked after him and made sure he was fed, cleaned daily and went to school. Her children were too busy with their own lives to give much time to Dane either but they thought he was cute and that it was funny to call him Uncle Dane. For years, Dane thought his first name was Uncle. It wasn’t until middle school that he learned what an Uncle really was but it never really mattered to him. Dane lived in his own world and that world was baseball.

At 6 years old Dane played T-ball then Little League at age 9. He joined the team at school and all of his coaches through the years loved Dane’s enthusiasm for the game but they all agreed that Dane would never become a serious ball player - not with his pigeon toed feet. Dane would always be a life long fan.

Dane thought of himself as a true baseball fan too and not just because he loved eating hot dogs; he didn’t collect player cards or pennants or jerseys like most fans. Dane preferred to collect baseballs but more specifically, foul balls. There was less competition for that. Dane would go to games and sit only where foul balls were likely to come his way. The balls weren’t worth anything especially since Dane never got a ball autographed. He was too shy to ever approach any player including his all time favorite ball player, Bucky Dent.

The rest of the story can be found in Life Happens: The Short Story Collection available on Amazon.com and Kindle. https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=r+jozwiakowski

My Winter Rant

I like to look at back issues of Playboy for three reasons: 1) To find the hidden bunny on the front cover; 2) To look at the naked ladies but not for arousal, rather to be critical at all the over bleaching they do to their teeth; and 3) To read the Playboy Advisor.

The funniest submission to the Advisor was in a back issue from May 2003. E.R. in Las Vegas wrote:

“I love to have my girlfriend sit on my face so I can lick her. The problem is that I inhale her wetness through my nose. I can usually smell her for days. It’s not unpleasant, but sometimes it kills my appetite. Any suggestions?”

My first reaction was to laugh and laugh and laugh for this was a new one on me. My second thought was, “Wait a minute! You mean to tell me I’ve been sittin’ on the best completely organic appetite suppressant for decades?!” If only it were that simple. My own scent does not suppress anything and I’d rather stab myself repeatedly in the face before sampling any other woman’s scent.

I didn’t read the Advisor’s response at first but I started to think, “Why would that guy’s sinus smell like lady-crotch days after? And what did the Advisor tell him?” I know what I would say and it wouldn’t be nice but then again, is it ever? I’d say:

“Dear E.R. thanks for writing. When you’re done being a human bidet for your woman, blow your nose and wash your face with soap and water. Feel free to get in the shower daily and rub the soap all over your body because it’s clear to me that you don’t have a fucking clue about personal hygiene. If that doesn’t work, try using a Neti pot. Good Day!”

The actual response wasn’t nearly as informative as I thought it should be but hey, it’s Playboy and not JAMA. The response is below. It’s a keeper.

“None. We love that smell.”

The Hook-Up

Her: Hey you let’s chat.
Him: Ok
Her: Thanks for adding me as a friend. I hope your wife doesn’t mind.
Him: Why would she mind? She has no clue.
Her: You didn’t tell her our history?
Him: Hell no. I was seeing her at the time…remember?
Her: Oh, right. So she knows nothing?
Him: Nothing. She’s clueless.
Her: Did you even tell her about your Ex?
Him: All she knows is that she’s my Ex but I never gave her details.
Her: How come?
Him: It’s none of her business.
Her: I noticed she’s not on your friends list.
Him: Yeah. It’s complicated. Is she on yours?
Her: No. I never asked.
Him: Why not?
Her: I broke the code.
Him: Do you think she knows?
Her: I don’t know but it’s not like she’s approached me.
Him: She knows.
Her: Oh. So what’s new? Got another kid on the way?
Him: Ha-Ha - you’re funny. What have you been up to?
Her: My horses.
Him: So you’ve moved on to bigger.
Her: And better. I have needs too you know.
Him: Don’t I know it. Aren’t you afraid of disease…for the horses?
Her: I clean them every week. I am a mother you know.
Him: Does your husband know?
Her: He’s clueless too.
Him: So he doesn’t know his wife is a mega super slut?
Her: How would he? It’s not like we met in college.
Him: I met mine in college and she still doesn’t know about me. She’s ignorant like that.
Her: HaHa - but I thought she was smart. Doesn’t she have a bunch of degrees?
Him: She’s book smart but has no common sense. I think she just married me for my name anyway.
Her: Oh, I thought you married her for her name. HaHa!
Him: Very funny.
Her: It’s kind of obvious, Dude.
Him: You don’t know.
Her: I saw your son’s graduation picture the other day. He looks just like you.
Him: I’m just happy I didn’t have to pay for him.
Her: She never asked for support?
Him: No way. She pinned it on another guy after I gave her directions to Planned Parenthood.
Her: HaHa! You really did that?
Him: There was no way I was gonna marry that fat fug. She knows why she got some.
Her: She should have named him Rolling Rock. LoL
Him: Yeah, total beer goggle moment for me back then.
Her: Right. And I’m so grateful too…especially for the STD.
Him: I thought you gave me an STD.
Her: Yeah, I think I gave you herpes.
Him: Shit, that was you? Fuck you.
Her: HaHaHaHa! You’re welcome.
Him: No worries. So when can I see you? I’ve missed you.
Her: Are you THAT hungry?
Him: The wife isn’t as adventurous. It’s frustrating.
Her: So how do you manage?
Him: I just go and get a bj from one of my students. No big.
Her: Aren’t you worried about losing your job? Or jail time?
Him: My students are very loyal and the school loves me.
Her: Nice. You should still be careful.
Him: I’ve been here over 10 years. I think I know what I’m doing.
Her: If you say so.
Him: So when can you make the drive over the hill?
Her: Well, I’m partial to my horses now. I’m so stretched out but my ass is tight.
Him: That’s good enough for me. The wife won’t let me go back door.
Her: Really? What a prude!
Him: No shit. She thinks it’s a sin.
Her: Bawhahahahahahaha!
Him: I know.
Her: How’s next week?

My Suspicions Have Been Confirmed

When the term Short Sale started being tossed around a few years ago, a lot of people thought it would be somewhat of a saving grace to get out of a property that was under water. But, there was major bottle necking on the bank’s end. Why? The bank agreed to process short sales in the first place so why the hold up?

Here’s why: The banks want the properties to foreclose. Oh, I’ve heard too that that’s ‘ridiculous’ for the banks would lose money. Not so. If there is one-thing banks know, it’s how to make money with very little effort. So that being said, not only did the banks manage to swindle the government out of billions of dollars with false promises, they also know that more money could be made on a property if it’s written off as a loss.

Moreover, the banks keep the deeds and then rent out the properties to Section 8 people. Now there is a domino effect. The Section 8 people move in, crime and vandalism goes up driving down the market value of the all the neighboring properties and thus creates more foreclosures and a sprinkling of short sales.

What we have here is an old fashioned shake-down. The government wants more regulations so the banks cannot sell fraudulent loans. The banks don’t want regulations b/c they want as much money as possible regardless of who suffers for it. And who suffers? Regular hard working people suffer for it. The banks are writing very few loans and demanding more money for down payments so unless you have over 20% to put down, you will not get a loan with a fair interest rate. Sure, lenders are dangling low interest rates to get people through the door but then they will convince you and that a credit rating of 750 isn’t good enough to secure a loan at the available rate.

So what can the people do about this? No, really. What can be done? If you don’t have the cash to buy a home outright, then you have to deal with the banks. The Occupy protesters had a good idea to take money out of the banks and use credit unions but that’s not enough and not everyone is on board with that. I know the banks are holding out until a republican is back in the oval office. When that happens, a windfall of loans will be written but the interest rate will be ridiculously inflated.