About Wordpusher715

Biography

I never know what to say. I live, I love, I perform, and I lament. Is there more than this?

Name:
Wordpusher715
Sex:
Male 
Age:
67
Sign:
Libra
Relationship Status:
Married
Location:
Near Mipple City, Wisconsin, United States
Local Time:
16 Jan 2019 19:24
Interests:
I am transitioning. My previous interests are past and new ones haven't been found.
Favorite Books:
Personal journey stories.
Favorite Authors:
I rarely read the same author twice.
Favorite Movies:
Diane Lane (sigh) (heavy sigh) (Rinse. Repeat)
Favourite TV Shows:
None.I am culturally illiterate and my kids make fun of me.

Statistics

Date Joined:
19 May 2018
Last Visit:
16 Jan 2019
Page Viewed:
838 times
Friends:
15
Followers:
6
Days in Chat:
0
Days on Site:
30+
Forum Posts:
23
Stories:
48
Badges:
6

Latest Forum Posts More forum posts »

Topic: Inspirations, the Stories Space Coffee House
Posted: 11 Jan 2019 09:00

Ugh. I woke up with a sore throat, head-ache and aches and pains today.

Best wishes for a quick recovery.<img src="/images/emoticons/wave.gif" alt="wave">

Topic: Inspirations, the Stories Space Coffee House
Posted: 11 Jan 2019 08:56


Take care of yourself and get well soon, Wordpusher. I've dodged the bullet so far this winter but I'm sure I'll come down with something sooner or later. My wife was ill back in October but I didn't seem to catch it.


Thanks for the kind thoughts today. I'm at work; slogging through a couple hundred emails and sniffling so as to be let alone. Best wishes for the weekend.

Topic: Inspirations, the Stories Space Coffee House
Posted: 11 Jan 2019 03:56

Really, really, hot black tea, double-bagger, please. Large cup. Add two Ricola cough drops into bottom and two tablespoons of honey. Feeling low with a stuffy head and raw throat. I have the best velvet, low tone, raspy voice for singing Barry White songs but can't make it through a whole song without cracking. The best thing about an email society is that I can work all day without speaking to anyone. Make that To Go, please. Thank you.

Topic: Does anybody care?
Posted: 07 Jan 2019 14:31

Philosopher Bob Dylan says:
People are crazy and times are strange
I'm locked in tight, I'm out of range
I used to care, but things have changed.

In 4G warfare, the fight is precisely over what you care about. If you are not familiar with why our President tweets cr@p and why the two political parties do what they do...then go read about 4G warfare.

If you care less today, the enemy is winning. To win, you must care more. Do not give up the fight over self-reliance, over meaningful work, over compassion, over individualism, and over universal and absolute truths. Hold people to meaningful standards, traditional respect, integrity, and authenticity.

I care. You should, too. The fight is worth it.

Topic: Inspirations, the Stories Space Coffee House
Posted: 03 Jan 2019 02:58

Coffee, please. I plan on staring into it for a while and ruminating on my life. If I don't speak, it's because I'm lost in thought. I know where I've been and I know where I am. It's where I'm going that befuddles me at the moment.

Topic: What is the Premium length of a story?
Posted: 03 Jan 2019 02:51

In business, there's a parable about three people having lunch. The first person says the most important language to know is English and that one must speak English if one is to succeed in business around the world. The second person says German, French, Italian, Spanish, and English are the most important languages to speak as they are the languages of the most populous countries in the world. He proudly proclaimed that he spoke all of them. The third person sipped his soup silently and simply nodded his head. As the silence became unbearable, he set his spoon down and looked at his fellow businessmen who were waiting for his opinion. He said clearly, "The most important language to speak is the one my customer uses."

Who do we write for? The arc of the story and the targeted reader appear to determine the appropriate length of a story. But then there are times I wonder what it might be like to just string several microfiction pieces together. Sort of a Mama Mia musical via microfiction pieces strung throughout a story line. I don't have the discipline to do it myself but there are craftsmen here who could.

Please know that sometimes my confidence exceeds my intelligence. If that happened here, I apologize.

Topic: Inspirations, the Stories Space Coffee House
Posted: 25 Dec 2018 12:36

Happy Christmas and a hot coffee this morning, please.

Topic: Santa's Bag...
Posted: 22 Dec 2018 04:54

More discipline, more time, and more friends but Santa only has tangibles in his bag. I'll settle for lumber and a plan to build an obstacle course for the grandchildren and myself. <img src="/images/emoticons/book1.gif" alt="book">

Topic: Bucket List
Posted: 08 Dec 2018 10:02

I wish to become an everyday athlete. Only self-discipline and resisting temptation stand in my way. Well, easily distracted might be in my way, too. And cake. Sigh, it's an uphill battle and I've never been an athlete in my life. I wish to become one. I only need to retire and focus. More difficult than I thought.<img src="/images/emoticons/eusa_doh.gif" alt="d&#39;oh!">

Topic: Story settings, an anomaly
Posted: 19 Nov 2018 06:53

Sorry, brain not working today. Thanks for the courtesy of a respectful reply. Back to bed for me. I'll wake tomorrow with a working brain...hopefully.

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Recent Activity All Blogs »

Stories Published By Wordpusher715 All Stories »

A Christmas Tree Cutting Adventure

Stupid. Just stupid. The sun was setting; dusk hung like a cloak over the Coconino National Forest. I had a scotch pine tree on my right shoulder, my left hand held our seven-year-old daughter’s hand, and the lovely Mrs. L carried our three-year-old in her arms. We were walking downhill from the tree cutting area and had no clue how much farther we had to walk. All I could think was “I...

Added 05 Jan 2019 | Category Memoirs | Votes 7 | Avg Score 5 | Views 218 | 5 Comments

My Lover Desires Me

Of sweet tea and southern charm, With honeysuckle and red clay, As peaches ripen in the Georgia sun, My lover desires me. As catfish nibble an empty hook, In a hole 'neath a rusting bridge, As young men ripen in the Georgia sun, My lover desires me. As her charm soothes my savagery, With sweet tea upon her breath, As her womb ripens in the Georgia sun, My lover desires me. The Marshes...

Added 29 Dec 2018 | Category Poetry | Votes 4 | Avg Score 5 | Views 197 | 4 Comments

When I asked if I could kiss you, you said Yes with surprise

I kissed you and I don’t know why; it was certainly forbid, You said Yes when I asked you, and then we definitely did. I don’t know you but your eyes are soft brown, Your face is of an angel. Eggshell blue, your formal gown. We’d never met before but when I saw your face, I knew you were the One of all the human race. You knew I was your One, I could see it in your eyes. When I asked if...

Added 22 Dec 2018 | Category Poetry | Votes 5 | Avg Score 5 | Views 213 | 6 Comments

The Lovely Mrs. L at Christmas

  The beauty of Christmas is in her eyes, Sparkling and twinkling and saucer-sized. The love of Christmas is in her heart, Laughing and giggling with kind remarks. The joy of people, on this special day, Who honor the Savior and His true Way, Warming hearts of man, woman, and child, All grievances reconciled. Step up, young men! Be strong in your Faith! 'Tis the Creator who put Christmas...

Added 13 Dec 2018 | Category Poetry | Votes 5 | Avg Score 5 | Views 134 | 5 Comments

The Ghosts of Time

“Let’s call this class to order, shall we?” The Professor looked as aged as the two-century-old building he was teaching in. Dressed smartly for his age though, he had the physical presence that outstanding educators naturally possess. Selecting a book on the wooden table in front of him, he opened to the marked page. “The great Albert Einstein said: The only reason for Time is so...

Added 02 Dec 2018 | Category Humor | Votes 3 | Avg Score 5 | Views 274 | 3 Comments

Your Christmas Gift To Me

This night I write, Dear Santa Claus, Please do this for me, just because I love my fellow man this year, I see, A little bit more than presents for me.   Don’t bring me presents for Christmas this year, Don’t bring me kindness or bundles of cheer, Give all my gifts to those in need, And let your gift to me be a good deed.   Take all my sweaters to ol’ Good Will, Take all the toys...

Added 01 Dec 2018 | Category Poetry | Votes 6 | Avg Score 5 | Views 223 | 7 Comments

It's a Wonderful Wife

My wife is still in bed as I close the door behind me and leave her to peaceful slumber for a while longer. It's 7:45 AM and I'm late. I jump in the truck with my roll-around briefcase and pull out the driveway headed for work. My mind flashes on the fact that I don't have my glasses on. I know that I don't need them to drive and I can wear my reading glasses at work but still... Less than...

Added 27 Nov 2018 | Category Musings | Votes 10 | Avg Score 4.9 | Views 298 | 9 Comments

An Exhortation for Freedom of the Press

Jaundiced views of political moves shatter the credibility. Tattered news can only prove maundered fallibility. Sauntered news casually eschews truthful probability.   Journalistic hubris, as portrayed by the Righteous few. Is liberalism the reason for the Red, White, and Blue? The newspaperman always printed and painted. The news itself was always tainted. In 1776, a shot was...

Added 21 Nov 2018 | Category Poetry | Votes 2 | Avg Score 5 | Views 249 | 2 Comments

Salvation and Self-Veneration

(The Prophet) There’s work to be done in this world, but it’s not work for boys or girls. Where once there were people of a great and mighty nation, Now all I see is a slave generation. A Slave Generation. Slave to your phone, to the drugs you rejoice, slave to the music, it’s all your choice.   (The Populace) But I don’t need work done in my world, Work isn’t needed for...

Added 23 Nov 2018 | Category Poetry | Votes 4 | Avg Score 5 | Views 230 | 3 Comments

A Rifle Reports at 6:43

At zero four thirty the men arose To put on their warmest clothes, Thermals and woolens, boots laced tight, They venture into the dark of night. Orange and plaids, worn on First Day, Protect these men in a visual way. Protein bars and thermos containers, One empty bottle, all no-brainers. Rifle and ammo fully secured; Men trod silently, never speaking a word. They climb inside each...

Added 18 Nov 2018 | Category Poetry | Votes 4 | Avg Score 5 | Views 265 | 4 Comments

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