Author: Jocelyn

  • Unwrap This

      Roughly forty-one years ago, on March 25th, my mom didn’t know what to get my dad for his birthday. Somehow “a child” seemed more creative than “a Mickey Mouse necktie.” So on my dad’s 32nd birthday, my mom, spinal-blocked but fully conscious, pushed me out of her girl bits. Half an hour later, she […]

  • Twenty-Seventh Sign of an Impending Apocalypse

    Spontaneously and unthinkingly, I recently did finger guns at a colleague during an English Department meeting. Should I ever attend a Liberal Arts & Sciences Advisory Board meeting and toss up some gesticular air quotes, that will be your final warning. Grab canned foodstuffs and run for your bomb shelters. I kind of hope your […]

  • Preschooler Oysters

      You know how it’s important for a parent to mess with her kid, just to make sure he’s ready for the Whac-A-Mole game that is middle school? I do; therefore, I view every day as a “mess-’em-up-early-and-hard” opportunity. Case in point: While the Wee Niblet still has affection for his Pokemon cards and is […]

  • Not So Much My Savior After All: The Pompous Lord Rerun

    In honor of my naturally-red Irish roots; the big drunk that is St. Paddy’s Day; a lack of writing time; and a firmly-entrenched believe that recycling is always good, I’m re-running one of my earliest posts (it had all of three readers!). I wrote a series of tales about Jocelyn Set Loose in Ireland, and […]

  • Stockholm Syndrome for the Flabby

    My relationship with the airlines thrusts me into moral crisis. When I fly, they make me angry. They treat me condescendingly; they torment me with their itty seats; they feed me not; the handlers bark at me when I inconveniently have to use the bathroom during Beverage Service. Of course, if the handlers could bother […]

  • Another Wasted TV Hour

      There I was, a plate of hash brownies on the tv tray, a bouquet of tulips nestled to my not-inconsiderable bosom, clogs shodding my feet, and damned if I wasn’t disappointed. Turns out that show New Amsterdam isn’t about dykes at all.

  • Pecking at the Picketing PETA Pipers

    Keith Richards was named this week as the new face of Louis Vuitton (headed by Marc Jacobs). Shortly after the contracts were signed, Jacobs seized Keith’s face in a firm embrace, skinned it, and used the leather to make a suitcase. Keith staggered home, enjoying the aftereffects of the anesthesia, eager to answer his family’s […]

  • Ouchie-ooh-la-loobie-ding-dat

      After a particularly hardcore session of Webkinz, during which he mined for precious gems, tackled fairies in the Charm Forest, and added a new trellis to his platypus’ yard, Wee Niblet stood up and staggered away from the computer. Leaning uncomfortably against the bed, he groused, “My legs fell asleep.” “Eep opp ork ahah, […]

  • Hep Me. Hep. Me.

      You know how, every night when you’re asleep, there’s the possibility that a mouse will crawl down your throat and suck the very breaf out of your body? Now imagine a critter that’s 23 times as big as a mouse, one that doesn’t restrict itself to the obvious throatal orifice. Picture Big Evil with […]

  • Thursday Night Live

    “Thursday Night Live” Had it not been for the two drinks in July rum/ginger ale/lime concoctions (aka the “Dark ‘N Stormy”) Downed before my pal Jim over for dinner that night–crispy pork bits on rice Said, “So some of us were talking” a gaggle of clackers at the college “And we think you’d be a […]