FOR THE “PURE WRITERS:” Why I Happen to Like My Pure Videos

Why I like My Snapchat Videos:
They Showcase a Lifetime of Experience

According to my acquired belief system, these videos possess many virtues and capitalize on a Lifetime’s Wealth of Experience.

Their virtue begins prior to my birth with The Invention of The Photograph and the Resultant Cliché that “A picture speaks a thousand words.”

They’re able to make beauty from the ashes of my many Wasted Years as a Wife AND in Chemistry and Algebra to Fail to Recognize a formula for success, even if it equates!

Regardless of my track record, I feel in my gut these videos marry the Dramatic Flair I FIRST began at the onset of puberty with my Ability to Phrase My Words Poetically…

Honed during my years as a writer to Think Poetically In The First Place!

The end result should be POTENT DRAMA, wryly age-fermented into one self-effacing, surprisingly-impactful, socially-irresponsible yet hopefully still-entertaining multimedia of a cyberbyte.

When that inevitably fails like all my prior marriages, I find myself paying a premium to My IPhone Memory Plan, resorting to my inherent Gift of Gab, videotaping 100% of Everything I blab about for hours, rely on my Natural Aesthetic to Recognize The 1% that’s salvageable, and ultimately return to my aptly-titled B.S. degree in Radio-TV-Film to Edit The Useless Footage Down, hopefully quasi-coherently.

Of course, I never forget to swing by my long-term, prestigious highschool-memory banks to Cleverly Spin and Repackage this mere fraction of useless chatter about Everything into “Much Ado About Nothing.”

I hope you find them entertaining, too. Frankly, they’re easier to make than the poems, and I’d appreciate the harmless self-promotion.



Nowadays, young people “start growing their social media presence” instead of preparing to get into, attend, and graduate from college.

Is it tragic or smart?
It’s tragic but smart.
It’s tragic AND smart.

Life is played in multiple stages of Reality nowadays.



This Rule proves true about 80% of the time for me:

If a person is truly innocent, the Truth sets them free.

For The Guilty, the Truth turns them into Liars (if they weren’t already; which they most certainly were).




I heard Jennifer Lopez is running her mouth and talking smack about us skinny bitches again.

If those zaftig bitches don’t stop shooting trash out of BOTH sides of their pretty gobs, we’e gonna have some serious West-Side-Story hand-to-hand street action.

Any DAY now.

TOO MUCH TIME ON TRUE CRIME: Regarding Daughters & Sons

Regarding Daughters & Sons

The Laundries say Gabby was “like a daughter,”
But if they had treated Her like a daughter
The same way they treated their son,
Blood could’ve been spared from being shed
And this current civil case could never be won.
But as it stands, the Parent Laundries’
Highly Callous Disregard
Proved beyond all reasonable doubt
Their Intentions and Actions
Were, while child-protective,
Nonetheless equally dark.

What Do You Call It? Too Old to Know

What do you call Long-term Loyalty
In the Absence of
Friendship and Availability?

I call it:
You may Like me with gestures of kindness,
But your mental distance drains them of Weight,
Turning your Followship into
An empty, hollowed ship
Which doesn’t “float my boat”
Or buoyantly “float in seas”
Only sighted with tools
Designed to scope distantly.

These tools aren’t available to Me,
And neither are You, apparently.
I don’t know why I’m always the
Last One to See such seemingly
Simple and truthful Things.

At least I won’t be haunted by
Because The Ghost Who’s Most
Likely to Pursue and Eat
The Scraped and Burnt
Piece of Toast who looks a lot like Me

Is clearly Impressed Easily
By lousy cooking skills and
Solely Verbally-Skillful Attributes;
The latter attributes are the
Only Ones which describe my virtues
Even semi-quasi-authentically.

YouTrue Crime Poetry, Exhibit 41

Guilty of showing off my quick digestion skills again…


(They have some convincing costumes,
so please don’t start “Poet-Blaming”
for “Victim-Shaming”;
I wrote a poem to honor her,
Which honors more than empty words)

I’m so sorry The Freshest Rosie
Was Bound and Married into a useless posey,
But because she poked so slowly,
She identified her murderer,
And indexed Death’s
Most Pointed Finger
At Her useless excuse of
A lame-ass husband;
He poisoned her with cyanide
And never cared about
The Cars Nearby,
Driving on Ways both
Motored and High.

He might’ve been a Husband, true,
But in my always-humble opinion,
Yazeed’s Phylum is more
Rat than Human.
This isn’t fact nor scarcely truth,
Though I’ll be glad to school
Anyone with less than
Half a clue.
My lessons are so free,
You’ll think they’re a
In fact versus fiction
(Yes, I’m aware of the
Inherent contradiction),
I can only offer a special
Priced at so low a Price
And at CooCoo Crazy Costs
Because I actually talk This Way.
Oh, how it drives me so insane!
But what can I do?
And what can I say?
It Always comes out Rhyming
Any and Either way,
Every nano-momentary passing
Of Every Single Day.

Which Antidote might you advise
To under-dose Demise-by-Rhyme?



I thought jokes were only ever
Thought, Written, Told, or Spoken
By an Individual-Sized Person,
One accountable for its own voice.

However, Politicians have taught us
We don’t have to Make A Choice!
All of these things can occur in unison,
As well as simultaneously,
More “cacophonous” than “sonorous” or “harmonious”,
If You ask Me, or
According to the Notes I read.
I don’t know,
YOU tell ME:
Do they also sound
Too Stale to Sail
From YOUR Slide on
This Slippery Scale?

Regarding Sources of Poetic Inspiration

This could literally save lives! People Everywhere who have cried Too Much Salt in Too Many Tears won’t be forced to Blindly Search for a “Quick Fix” or a “Fast Replace” with Notorious Vexter, Visine.

At least not Anymore, they won’t.

[I told you folks SHE did it all day;
It keeps me awake and
Gives ME a Terrible Headache!

The Modern-Day Poet

Most certainly not doing It in the car!


She must talk to herself
ALL of the time,
And by her Own iPhone,
She must have been driven blind.

She ALLSO must ALLWAYS speak in Rhyme
(I know, I can’t stomach it Myself most of the time),
And A More Creative Method of Spelling
NO one should Never happen upon and find.

If that’s all set up,
Then “The Words Said By She”
Can NOW, Automatically,
Travel nonstop and
From Word-to-Text
And Bot-to-Blog,
Then Blog-to-‘Gram
And back again,
To once again
Wordplay with Those
Who Jest The Best❣️

And please don’t breathe a
Word of This to Anyone,
But she could do “It Driving”

If IT wasn’t so dangerous!



Micro-gestures Magnify;
Like the Face of Hate,
They’re hard to hide behind
And Reveal Intentions
Without Mentions.

Maybe micro-gestures speak volumes
When living in Microcosms instead of Life?

Enneagram Types: Defined by an Idiote


Have their Feet planted on the ground and their Finger pointed in your face.

Where do YOU want to live? I’m a great roommate: “Mi casa Su casa” any day, but I won’t give you “Alone Time” at Either Place.

Are accomplished and successful, or at least they’ll go to great subconscious lengths to make you think so.

Are simply The Most Compassionate Understanding People you never want to cross. The Sole Digit on Two Hands as comfortable shedding tears as pealing laughs.

Obsess with “just the facts, ma’am” and may seem a Bit Distant and a Bite Adjacent; in other words, they can be quirkily contrary.

Are terrified of potential scenarios, but spend much inner dialogue identifying and executing Countermeasures to prevent them in the first place. They always show up, but have the good sense to head home if it rains.

Constantly distract themselves with future dreams, especially those involving fun. Advisory: All Fantasy Must be Imagined at the 7’s leisure.

If they were Bulls, would be taunting Matadors one minute and breaking China in China Shops the next.

Go along to get along.
They’re invited along because They’re easy to have along,
They don’t yell for long,
And they agree with Everyone
And Almost Everything
Along the way.

I Know MY Number; Does Your Number know You?

Do you have the FOUR-sight to predict Mine?


Dear Businesses I have Patronized Regularly:

If I hear Another Person Yelling me
They’re “Bringing me Something-for-Free,”
While charging a Monthly Subscription Fee,
And subjecting me to
[Frequent], [[Repeated]]
!Constant Endorsements!,
I shall SCREAM
And Promise To Flee;
Conduct My Business
Somewhere Else.

Bare Finania££y.
MY IMPACT? Nano-Minu$-0ne.
But Most Mucho-Micros I Know In Person,
At least on The Individual’s Basis,
Are the Kind of Folks who are SO MUCHO,
They Mucho ALL Their Micro Group-Impact into A MACROECONOMIC One;
So Please Remember and Forget Me Not.

A Merry Band of Nobody
Who won’t Remind You of Her Age,
Just her Loyal Patronage.

Regarding “Influencers”


Am I the only one who sees the irony in the term “influencer?”

Last time I checked, adults could choose who they wanted to be influenced by: Influence was a two-way street; not some thing forced upon you.

Or maybe we always had “Influencers,” but we called them “movie stars,” “supermodels,””famous people,” and/or simply “popular.”

My greatest influencer, right wrong and probably both, is ME, and only because I’m not hungry enough to be influenced by Other People telling me what I want to eat.

As for ME, I only hope YOU influence convincingly. If I allow someone to influence me, I expect their influence to be complete.