Lizzard Of Oz
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Shit I just writ
- Getting Old at the Grocery Store
- The Power of Fear
- Every Minute is a New Day: 8 MORE DAYS!
- 11 Days! FAQ: Every Minute is a New Day
- Update: Every Minute is a New Day
- Every Minute is a New Day: 17 Days Left
- It’s here.
- Do Not Squander Your Madness On Petty Things Like Reality: The Smile Challenge
- Richard Linklater and the Little Monk of Odin Hill
Tag Archives: life
I went to buy a few things today: milk, ice cream, wine, and Prilosec. I didn’t feel old buying these things. That was until the young girl at the check out looked at my ID and said, “Wow, you don’t … Continue reading
“You’re only given a little spark of madness. You musn’t lose it.” -Robin Williams What is life without a little madness? What is there to take so seriously that we lose our sense of curiosity and wonder? Life has been a … Continue reading
So, today I discovered my first crow’s feet. At first it struck a nerve about looking old. Then the more I contemplated it, and I did contemplate it for hours, the more I realized that those little lines are a … Continue reading
Hello, my name is Amy and I walk into walls. Daily. Don’t be alarmed, I’m mostly harmless and incredibly fabulous. Being an oaf does not have to hold you back from being amazing and sexy. In fact, there are many … Continue reading
FAQ Let me take a moment to answer a few of your frequently asked questions. How do you know so much about life, Amy? Well you see, I fuck up a lot. That means I’m actually smarter than people who … Continue reading
Around 35 years ago I discovered something that has been a vital part of my life. As a child with a more vivid imagination than those around me, I was starving for an outlet, a playground for my imagination. What … Continue reading
Here is a short story I wrote a while ago as it was originally written. I am posting it now because I am working on giving it a bit of a facelift and including it in my Grandmother Magic series … Continue reading
Don’t Let Go, But Please Don’t Hold On By Amy Moloney A slow dance in cadence with the night My head on your shoulder Your scent surrounding my senses Burning me inside, a slow constant smolder Knowing the time … Continue reading
I Eat Pickles By Amy Moloney Sometimes I eat the wrong pickles But you know, I really like them sweet The looks of disdain from my friends Shows how poorly I have chosen But the pickles I eat are mine … Continue reading
My Impossible Week: Some people leave an indelible mark upon your soul. And you are a better person for having had the chance to get to know them, no matter how long the interaction. Such is the case of my … Continue reading
My Butterfly Friend By Amy Moloney For my best friend, the other Amy You are beautiful butterfly with tattered wings You must cocoon again before you can sing The world seems distorted when moving so fast More strength inside you … Continue reading
Sweet Honey By Amy Moloney I sat at the edge of paradise Holding a string in my hand Someone called my name “Sweet honey of mine” I pulled on my string, no resistance Until a balloon carried me high … Continue reading
Stardreaming By Amy Moloney How do you keep your feet on the ground When your head is in the stars When everything you touch Is eventually collected into jars The world holds less wonder Than the emptiness above And somewhere … Continue reading
A few nights ago I attended a wonderful event here at SXSW. It was called People of Letters, a travelling letter writing brigade from Australia. The panel of letter writers was impressive, from my writing guru Neil Gaiman and his … Continue reading
Middle Bloomers By Amy Moloney We are the middle bloomers Heeding the call of ancestral souls Pioneers of an unknown internal jungle Forging highways from the bricks of forgotten dreams We’ve begun to take life by its core Throw out … Continue reading
Inspiration Art is as much a part of my soul as breathing. The past two weeks without my hands covered in paint, ink, or clay has made me turn into a shell of my true self. When I pick up … Continue reading
Kids, the word is bra, not brawl. Although, my tits do tend to brawl with the wire bondage of my bra. Fuck, nevermind. I guess you’re right. Go ahead and call it a goddamn brawl.
Here is the latest doodles of El Rey Pulpo. He and Nurse Bitterpill had some fun while the power was out on the Alzheimer’s unit.
Forgotten Wings By Amy Moloney I had forgotten I had wings But I’m better now I unfolded my feathers Shaking the dust from their tips And when I took to the sky I remembered I have never stopped flying home