Why Suburban Chicken?

I knew you'd ask that.

It's in honor of my Salvadoran naighbors continued efforts to keep chickens in their yard, which invariably seem to end up in MY yard, driving my poor dog into fits of doggie excitement, and the chicken into a feathery freaked out flurry of wings and clucks.

OK, now that all that crap is out of the way....

It's been a LONG time since I've written anything new. The occasional FB note, yes, but really, other than a somewhat long winded, this is what's been happening the last few months, nothing of any real interest or consequence.  And I've missed it.

Things have been pretty good lately, and when my life is settled, I tend to get a little complacent. OK, let's get real here, I get fat, happy and lazy. Which I am now, most of the time.

After close to a decade of being stressed, semi bitter and cranky it's a nice change, but apparently it doesn't do much for keeping the creative juices flowing, which is something I've been mulling over a bit lately.

I wonder sometimes if my writing is based in the need to rant and spew about whatever is twisting my knickers at the moment. Is my need to be creative feuled by a desire to commit emotional bulemia, binging on stress and anger, digesting it into something humorous and then purging it onto a computer screen?

Or am I just too lazy to actually put forth the effort it takes to write more frequently than crisis to crisis?

Who the fuck knows? Not me, that's for damn sure.

So, that's what's been spinning through my warped little head lately.