Just Four Friggin' Lines is a poetry series by Miss Snarky Pants devoted to people who prefer to read Donald Trump's speech - announcing his run for the presidency - on the toilet. Now before you say, Hey, wait a minute! That's not Just Four Friggin' Lines, please note that I never indicated how long the lines… Continue reading Just Four Friggin’ Lines #6 – The Trump Edition
Just Four Friggin' Lines is a poetry series for people who insist on listening with their eyes. And in honor of those who scribble verses like sleezy phone numbers on their palms and wrists, I bleed Just Four Friggin' Lines of ink. Are you hemorrhaging words? Share your four lines in the Comments below and stop… Continue reading Just Four Friggin’ Lines #5
Just Four Friggin' Lines is a new poetry series by Miss Snarky Pants - okay, it's the only poetry series, unless you count my Big Bang Theory Haiku - written especially for people who like their poetry the way they like their flu shots: fast and painless. This might not be Shakespeare, but it's Just Four Friggin' Lines.
Just Four Friggin' Lines is a new poetry series I'm writing for the lovely people who don't have time to read my longer humorous, satirical, political or just-plain-indulgent-and-confessional posts. It's poetry. Written in less than a few minutes, then printed out and photographed - so you know I didn't come back and tinker… Continue reading Just Four Friggin’ Lines #1
A Stupid Butterfly Poem Clipped between pane and screen, two monarch wings form wicked angles, dusted with the world that passed since they last beat beat beat beat beat beat beat beat. Against the brittle, grating mesh. Against the July-baked glass. How was this wind-buoyed wisp caged, walled, black legs… Continue reading A Stupid Butterfly Poem
Last night I started writing a post about my maternal grandfather, whom I called Grandpa. A nostalgic sort, I tend to sometimes dwell in my memories and the stories told to me by my family. Those places that are sepia-toned and a bit soft around the edges. Tales in which truth and embellishment have become… Continue reading Setting The Snark Aside
I was a private school kid. Before you go there, I wasn’t that kind of private school kid. There were no limousines or drivers or designer bags or ivy-covered walls or disheveled teachers in tweed who lived onsite and inspired me to seize the day. In fact, I was a scholarship kid – which meant… Continue reading How Polly Flinders Ruined My Life
The day I was Freshly Pressed, the gifted author of The Book of Alice - an utterly charming blog about parenting by the mother of an adorable toddler named Alice - bestowed upon The Paltry Meanderings of a Taller Than Average Woman , the highly-coveted 7x7 Link Blog Award. After gushing and blushing appropriately, I came to realize that… Continue reading You Like Me! You Really Like Me!
While I was studying poetry in college, I was forced to write a sonnet. Forced, you say? Was a gun held to my head? Did a professor surreptitiously slip a pinless grenade into my palm, step back cautiously and demand, "Write the damned sonnet!" No, but my instructor did string my GPA up by the… Continue reading The World’s Worst Sonnet About A Dead Dog Ever