I was walking back from the grocery store that’s about two blocks from my house the other day. I’m carrying two big paper bags when I suddenly see Lin with her little dog.
The dog immediately pulls on the leash and its back legs starts viciously barking at me as if I’m a criminal. Normally kids and animals like me because they can sense my inner kindness, but this pup is just being a jerk.
Typical yappy dog. Lin seems in a hurry to get where she’s going. “Hi, I’m just taking him to the park.”
“Nice seeing you. Have fun.”
And that was it. Now, I’m loaded down with groceries and she’s being pulled by a precocious pooch.
But I noticed something I hadn’t before. Both times I encountered her she was seated. But today she had on a pair of black bicycle shorts and some sort of white halter top on. (Those tight compacting shorts that hold everything in)
As she walked away I stole a glance back at her.
This is not the girl I saw in her Instagram photos. In her pics on social media, she’s raven-haired and fit. A petite, cutie. But this person walking away from me no longer fits that description.
She’s blonde and packed on quite a bit of weight. Her back is chubby and her legs are thick. This isn’t good. Could she be stuffing her feelings about her ex? Has she gotten back with him? He cheated on her and she dumped him. But now she’s a little chubette and I can’t imagine him wanting to come back to a worse version of the chick he already cheated on.
Then her next boyfriend in Fairmount suddenly cut her loose too. Something’s wrong here.
Maybe she just stuffed her face during Covid? No. That wouldn’t make sense. She’s a nurse. They were busier than ever during Covid. It must be the depression of being on her own and the loss of not one, but two boyfriends. What is with these Asian girls? No offense, but this reminds me a lot of when I knew Kita from the tanning salon a few years ago. Addicted to tanning, the super bleached blonde hair. Do these girls want to change themselves because they’re unhappy in their lives? They look perfectly great with their natural hair and skin color. It’s beautiful to me. I’m a huge fan and have been for over 40 years. I’ve had a couple of Asian girlfriends and liked the way they looked.
I don’t know, but I’m getting a bad vibe about this chick and I swore no more crazies back in 2019. There just seems to be a lot of things going on with this chick.
I saw her one more time the other day. I was about half a block away from her as she was entering the building next door. She was in the hallway with her yippie dog and fiddling with the lock on the front door. I know she didn’t see me earlier and as I walked by all I could see was that back fat.
I get that if you read this you’ll think I’m being shallow. Maybe I am. But I’m not pursuing this girl. It appears that in the short time that I’ve known her, (Two brief encounters) that she’s got some issues with several things. The sudden hair color changed, twice! The rapid weight gain. Drug use. The bounced rent check. The sudden need to get a tattoo.
Where are this girl’s friends and family? She’s got a good career, but it seems she’s making a lot of wrong and desperate moves. I’ve known too many mentally unstable people during my 15 years in this city.
So, sadly… I’m going to steer clear of this one.
Oh well, like I always say: Good or bad, at least I got a story out of it.
Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly.
My father was a Vice President at the Provident National Bank in center city. In his time with the bank, he had risen up the ranks and had made dozens of friends and contacts. My dad was a charming and effervescent guy. Everybody liked him. He was the “cool” dad to my friends. A guy who shot from the hip and not afraid to tell it like it was. I think my mom and I would disagree with some of that.
He had a diverse set of friends and acquaintances around Philly. One of his friends was this rich lawyer who drove a Rolls Royce. He’d get drunk and stay in the city at his apartment at The Drake. He’d tell my dad to take his Rolls for the night and bring it back to him the next day. I remember getting driven to school in a Rolls Royce one morning and it was like sitting in my living room.
This lawyer guy was a total maniac. One night he was hit by a drunk driver in the Rolls. The drunk guy who hit him was killed instantly in the crash, and the Rolls was the only thing that saved my dad’s friend’s life. They took him to the hospital, and while he was waiting to go in to get checked out, he bummed a cigarette off of somebody in the lobby. (You could smoke anywhere, anytime back in the 70s!) As the man is puffing away on the cig, he notices that smoke is coming out of the side of his shirt. In the accident, his lung had been punctured and the smoke was leaking from his wound. The man told the doctors not to put him under anesthetic. Just sew him up while he was fully awake. He said, “If you put me under, I’ll die.”
Yea, this dude was a wildman. He would be speeding down the Garden State Parkway with my dad in his Rolls, and my father would warn him to watch his speed. The guy would simply say, “Let the cops mail me the ticket.”
Lunatic.
But this story is about another friend of my father’s. He owned/managed a restaurant that my dad and his friends would frequent in the city. It was called Davinci’s. My father became friends with the man, and they’d chat at length. We’ll call him Steve, and leave it at that.
He loved hearing about my dad’s place at the seashore, the sweet sea air, and the sheer bliss of having a shore house. Steve wanted this for his family.
Steve had a hot wife who was a slender redhead with an unforgettable bustline. His eldest daughter Jaime was a slightly curvier version of her mother who was blessed with the same assets. He also had an adorable younger daughter Stacy, who was a delightful, hip kid despite her young age.
Wildwood, New Jersey – 1977
So, Steve decides to buy a shore house right around the corner from us on 9th street. It was nice hanging out on the beach with this family. Steve was a charming guy. Picture Lou Ferrigno but without the speech impediment. His wife Jackie was a lovely woman who became fast friends with my mother.
My friends and I, being 15-year-old boys, were instantly enthralled in the presence of daughter Jaime. She exuded raw sexuality and aloofness which fascinated us. (In hindsight, I think it was just that body) Jaime wanted nothing to do with twerps like us. She was already dating older dudes.
Here’s a photo I found of me and hot Jaime.
This is what we’re dealing with. That girl is only a year older than me. She’s built like a woman and I look like a twink next to her. What made things worse for us guys was, she and her friend Debbie would go out into the ocean up to their necks. They would then proceed to remove their tops and swing them around their heads. We were like… “Are they trying to make our brains explode?”
My bathing suit was wet when this photo was taken, but there was endless ribbing from my friends about how it looked like I was “sportin’ one” because I was standing next to her.
Here’s another shot of me with Jamie and Carol. (Sandy’s older sister from the previous chapter)
The struggle was real.
Sigh… I need to move on.
Their house was nothing like ours because they were obviously wealthy. I remember seeing a french phone on a fancy table in their house. Who has a $100 phone in their seashore house in the 70s?
We just assumed they were loaded. They owned a restaurant in Philly. They must be rich. We don’t know anything.
One day, we’re all on the beach and Steve tells my dad that he’s acquired a little boat. (Like the one in the photo above) He’s determined to firmly ensconced himself into seaside living. Apparently, he had won the boat in a card game in Philly. That’s some high stakes, I thought. (I think the boat was worth $12k) He told my father that he could use it any time he wanted.
It was a cool little boat to have access to. My father of course got me a little book to read about boating. I like how before my dad took on anything new he tried to learn all he could about it. He passed that good trait onto me. I read the book cover to cover. I knew starboard from port, and bow to aft. I also knew that if the tide was going out that you had to give the boat that was traveling with the tide the ‘right of way’. All of these things are as important as rules that apply to the road when you’re driving a car.
I remember the boat being up on its trailer in our yard for a period of time. Somehow it was my job to scrub the barnacles off the bottom of the hull and paint it with a special blue paint to keep them from getting back on there.
I also studied the steering mechanism of the boat and rewired the whole thing with fresh cable to fix the steering. That was my contribution to our new shared toy.
Before we ever left the dock my father would always make his presence known with someone on staff. He would tell them where we were going and how long we expected to be out. Safety first!
On the property of the marina was this goose named Thor. He was like the watchdog of the whole place. I had seen him on several occasions squawk and chase hapless mariners around the property. Head down, wings out, at a full angry run.
We’d take the boat out and dad taught me how to drive it. It wasn’t like the boat I had previously ridden in. This had a steering wheel and a throttle. (Way cooler!) You’d get it out in the bay and gun the throttle up, and the nose of the boat would rise up as the boat went faster. I still had much fear about the ocean and water in general, but I really enjoyed driving the little speedboat around.
Once my dad took my sister and me out of the bay and across the channel into the ocean. We were across from second and JFK Blvd at the northern point of the isle. Once we crossed the channel, (which I was told had been dredged to 40 feet deep so the bigger boats could travel through it!) he drove us out to a huge sandbar 100 yards offshore. This amazed me at the time. One always thinks that the farther you go out into the ocean the deeper the water becomes. This is true, unless there’s a sandbar.
He beached the boat and tossed out the anchor. So we were far from the shore and standing on dry land because the tide was low. It was like being on a small desolate island offshore from Wildwood. My mother had packed us all lunches and we had a little picnic out there that afternoon. Everything always tastes better at the shore!
Dad would get his fishing rod out and cast a few times back into the channel. Normally, if there is a sand bar, the bigger fish hang out at the edge of it, waiting for the little fish to come across the sand bar as the tide rolls in. As they reach the deep water they get eaten by the bigger fish. My dad was hoping to get one of those fish to fall for his lure.
I walked on the sandbar away from shore. It’s so cool because if you walk east you would think the water would suddenly get deeper and you’d go into the sea. But I could walk really far out into the ocean and it only remained a foot or so deep. It was weird to be so far offshore and only be in water up to your knees for 50 yards. But of course, the idea of all of this went against all of my instincts and I didn’t stay out there long. That coupled with my active imagination. I had remembered reading that most shark attacks against humans occurred in less than three feet of water. So I was pretty sure, even though I was in shallow water, I was really far from the shore. I was positive there were tons of big sharks out there just waiting to kill and eat me there. So, I quickly got back to the safety of the sandbar and my dad.
We had some good times out in that little boat. I have another story about our fishing exploits on that boat in another post.
The tide would start coming in and we’d head back to the marina. We took care of that boat like it was our own. But that’s how our parents raised us. You clean up after yourself and you take good care of things that don’t belong to you.
However, this wasn’t the case with Steve’s family. His daughter Jaime and one of her boyfriends would go out in the boat on occasion. We’d find trash in the boat and things in just general disarray onboard when we’d go to use it.
I remember finding a bottle of men’s aftershave stowed under the dashboard of the boat once. I was looking for something when I came upon it.
“Hey, dad. Now we don’t have to worry if the boat sinks.”
“Why not, son?”
“Because we can just hop into this!”
I don’t think my dad really liked having to share the boat with Jamie and her friends, but it was Steve’s boat, and she was his daughter, so there was little we could do.
I was once sitting on the beach with my next-door neighbor. We were just minding our own business and chilling on the banket. Jaime’s boyfriend comes rolling up to us. He was this big, tanned, buffed-out dude named Rocky. We used to refer to him as “Rocky Berufi” because it just seemed to fit him. (Happy Days TV show reference) He was just a big meathead.
So he comes over and says: “Where’s Jaime?!”
“We don’t know. Isn’t it your job to watch her?” (Me, always the wise guy)
This response only serves to infuriate the brute even further. He grabs our little bag of pepperidge farm goldfish crackers and proceeds to crush it in his hand, turning the contents to dust.
This is like being in a cartoon. Are we supposed to be afraid of this guy?
“Where is she?”
“We really haven’t seen her, Rocky.”
And off he goes down the beach looking for her. I’m sure Jaime was probably out somewhere with a new suitor. We got a fit of laughing after his dramatic exit.
At some point, Steve started giving me $5 a week. He told me that if it ever rained, I was to promise to go out to the marina and bail the water out of the boat. Back then, I was happy to have the free cash and it seemed like an easy gig. But I was young and busy with my life at the shore. Things slip your mind when you’re a teenager. Too many distractions!
I also wondered if he has the disposable income to pass on to me, why doesn’t he simply invest in a tarp to cover the boat?
Well, one day it really rained hard and I totally forgot to go check on the boat.
It flooded and sank to the bottom of the bay.
He came over to our house and gave me an earful. I was sure that I was in deep trouble. But the gods were smiling upon me that day. My father snapped at him for going behind his back and giving his son money to bail out his boat instead of buying a tarp.
All was forgiven, but we really didn’t use the boat much after that.
I really liked that family. They were really fun people to be around. Much different than my family. My favorite memory of Steve was when their dog once ran away during a thunderstorm. They were from Philly, so the dog probably spent its life in a nice apartment in a building in center city. But at the shore the weather was wild, and thunderstorms on the cape could be intense.
So, their dog panics and gets out of the house, and takes off. I’ll never forget that night. Hours passed and Steve came back into the house after looking for the lost dog. He was soaking wet and quite agitated, but happy he had located his lost dog in the storm.
But here’s the thing. It wasn’t his lost dog. It didn’t even look like his dog. It had short hair and was obviously an older stray.
“Steve… I don’t think that’s your dog. Your dog had longer fur than that dog has.”
“What kind of sicko steals another man’s dog and shaves his fur off to make him look different?!”
“Yea… I think it might be time to lay off the coke, dude.”
The family only kept their shore house for a few seasons before they sold it and didn’t return to the shore again.
But with every encounter in life, a story is born.
Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.
I remember one season there were thousands of Monarch Butterfly caterpillars all over the place back the tracks on all of the trees. The Monarchs were making nests and laying eggs and the caterpillars were everywhere. I remember we’d catch them and collect them in jars and play with the little guys.
The monarch butterfly is one of the most recognizable and well-studied butterflies on the planet. Its orange wings are laced with black lines and bordered with white dots. Famous for their seasonal migration, millions of monarchs migrate from the United States and Canada south to California and Mexico for the winter.
The caterpillar of the monarch butterfly eats only milkweed, a poisonous plant that should kill it. The caterpillars thrive on the plant, even storing its toxins in their bodies as a defense against hungry birds. For decades, scientists have marveled at this adaptation.
One time my friend Micahel had a jar full of them and he had it on his bicycle. The jar slipped and hit the street. Suddenly, there were hundreds of caterpillars spreading out through the broken glass and crawling all over the street, his bike, and on him. It was like a writhing malignancy from a horror movie. He didn’t know what to do and was obviously alarmed, and simply rode off on his bike from the scene. I think one of the parents just swept up the glass into the gutter as all of his caterpillars made their untimely escape.
Some of us had pets like dogs. Mostly everybody had dogs on our street. German shepherds were popular back then. Think I’m kidding? I’ll name all of the dogs just on our block. The Hunzingers had Jason, a scary dog that always barked at us and most of us were afraid of him. But the baby of that family, Jenny, who couldn’t have been more than 5 or 6 at the time would go right up to the beast and tell him to settle down and he would. It was uncanny! She had power over that terrifying dog.
The Mitchell’s had a dog named Greta, Hersh’s next door had Gretchen, The Hanley’s had a Belgium Shepherd named Duke. That dog was enormous. He didn’t have to do anything. Just the sight of a dog that large was enough for you to steer clear of their gate. The McMeans had a chubby little dog named Happy, whom they would allow to go down into their cellar and do his business. It was a dirt cellar and they would just let him go down there and take a dump. Their next-door neighbors would complain because the smell was coming through to their basement. They later had a dog that was white with a little black spot on its side named Heidi.
We didn’t have a dog yet, and wouldn’t have one until 1978. You can check that out here:
Up the street, there was a family who had a shepherd named Carrot, who was very shy. Apparently, he got his name because he had big pointy ears, and the little girl who owned him thought his ears looked like Carrots!
I think the Zerbach’s had a dog as well but I think it may have been some kind of black setter. Not sure.
We had a box turtle that my dad had found up in Stover, PA which was a camping area my dad and his friends would hang out in. Probably just to get away from the city and smoke pot. But we had her for a while and I think her name was Elizabeth. Not evil, but I think she escaped at some point. (maybe she was simply returned to the wild.)
I had a lizard named Rex who looked amazing and cost me $14. He looked really cool and I felt like I owned a little dinosaur, but he didn’t live long.
I had white mice for a short period as well. They weren’t much fun. Like all rodents, they just run around in the woodchips in their cage and constantly crap everywhere non-stop. I think they were only .49 cents at the pet store and were probably only there as lunch for people’s pet snakes. Kinda sad.
Here’s a previously published story about rodents:
Our neighbor Sandy had a little green turtle or two. We had heard a rumor back then that there was something going on with those turtles. But I’m sure that was just a childhood myth.
That’s why you didn’t see those little turtles around anymore.
We did have fish for a short period of time. That was my older sister’s idea. It was a freshwater 10-gallon tank. I remember she had all of these lovely fish. The most beautiful being the angelfish that always looked so elegant. There were also a few other fish and a pair of what I think they called tiger barbs. Everything seemed well and good, but I think someone at the pet store should have known not to mix certain species of fish together in a confined area. Because at night the barbs would hunt the other fish and ended up killing everything in the tank.
This reminds me of another story. When we were kids we’d be at the seashore with our parents and in any gift shop back then you could find hermit crabs for sale. These cute, shy creatures are of the tree variety and not the ones I’d occasionally see in the surf on the beach as a kid. Those little cuties hiding in their moon shells. My parents bought us each a hermit crab that we got to pick out. I don’t know if I named my guy and I don’t remember if my older sister named hers, but my middle sister named hers Shirley Temple. We kept them all in a little cage in the dining room of our house in Philly. But again, containing nature has its consequences. (You’ve seen Jurassic Park. You had the technology to do it, but SHOULD you do it?) We enjoyed having our little hermit crabs and would take them out and hold them. It was cute, You’d pick them up by their shells, and place them in the palm of your hand. Once you touched them they would zip back into their shells. Then if you held them in your palm and were still, they’d slowly peek out and walk around. It was really cute.
But what I didn’t know at the time was that hermit crabs don’t grow their own shells. These guys acquire their homes by finding snails and ripping them out of their shells and just hijacking the real estate. Home invasion and a hostile takeover. We didn’t know any of that. When we acquired them, we probably just picked each crab based on the color and shape of the shells they currently wore when we got them.
But night falls and that’s when all of the bad things happen in the animal world. I think this is why kids are instinctively afraid of the dark. Because that’s when our ancestors were at their most vulnerable. You’re passed out one night and you open your eyes and some large predatory dog or cat is chewing on your baby. But I digress…
Kids are busy getting into different things all of the time. When you’re young the world is a fascinating new place that’s controlled by adults. Anything you can get into on your own always feels exciting and powerful. Maybe a few days went by and we weren’t paying attention to the hermit crabs. They’re primarily nocturnal creatures for obvious reasons and they don’t do much during the day, so after a week or so, they’re kind of boring.
Doesn’t the Shirley Temple hermit crab begin to systematically murder her cage mates and rip them out of their shells? Yea. I guess she was growing and was looking for a bigger shell to hang out in because hers was getting a bit snug around the hips. She killed the other crabs and then somehow busted out of the cage and left. We were all freaking out and of course my dad, the science dude comes to the rescue. He realizes she must be traveling along the baseboard and maybe somewhere nearby. So, Shirley busts out of her cage after killing her cellmates crawls along the tabletop. Falls three feet to the floor and makes her getaway. My dad finds her in the living room, like 40 feet away just cruising along to parts unknown.
I wish there were more to this story but wasn’t all of that pet murder enough?
Does anyone else have any interesting pet stories?
Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.
“If you live a life that is without the elements of who you really are you will never be happy.”
I’ve just been notified by WordPress that after 2 1/2 years of writing this blog I’ve written a 1000 posts!!!
It’s been an incredible journey to finally be writing again. I started out in this life as an artist. Then a musician, and then a writer.
But life, marriage, a child, and a career removed me from all of that. Other people needed me and the bills had to be paid.
But after 10 years I decided to write again.
I created Phicklephilly in the spring of 2016 and then did nothing.
By the fall I asked myself, is this something you’re going to talk about in bars with your friends and never do? I had discussed the notion of writing a blog about my life with many of my friends. One who is a better and more visceral writer than myself.
But I started to write.
I published a post about a waitress I had been infatuated with for some time on a Monday.
I worried no one would read it or like it. I worried that I wouldn’t be able to come up with content every Monday.
But I did.
Then I started writing updates for a Wednesday release.
Once the wheel started to roll, I did what needed to be done.
I wrote.
Writing is a hard lonely existence.
It’s something that you have to push yourself to do. Especially in the beginning. But like anything you really want you push yourself to do.
You begin a fitness program and you stick with it. The muscles grow and the fat disappears. You keep at it and then it gets easier.
I started to write like mad. Cranking out content until I had something happening few times a week.
Then I found other things I liked and started to write about them. The Tanning salon, Tales of Rock, Crazy dates I’d been on in the past. Celebrities I’d met, and most of all, past relationships.
Some beautiful. Some bittersweet.
I’m not a great writer, but I kept at it. Like a pilot, I put in a certain number of hours until the plane called Phicklephilly soared.
And now here I am with all of you my loyal followers and readers after two and a half years of writing.
1000 posts and over 50,000 views!
I couldn’t be happier.
If you want to do something, don’t talk about it. Like Nike says: Just do it.
Write everyday.
Push yourself. Who cares who reads it. Just create and express yourself.
I GUARANTEE you that if you start writing and keep at it, the rewards will be like pieces of gold falling into your lap.
When you write from the heart and tell the truth about everything in your life, (Not everything. Keep some of yourself for yourself. That belong to you.) You will find this liberating weight lifted from your shoulders.
Get it all out. The good, the bad and the ugly. Don’t be afraid. It’s just words. But it will lighten the load you’ve been carrying around your whole life.
Once you write it down and publish it… It’s gone but not invisible. But it’s out of you for the first time in your life. It’s now safely on the paper. You can understand what you’ve experienced so much better once you write about it.
You can look back on your work and your life and it’ so much easier to process, forgive and understand.
Writing Phicklephilly has been the most singular liberating experience of my adult life.
And there is so much more to tell.
I have so much more to say.
Knowing that these stories are now out on the internet forever. Even after I’m dead it is comforting.
Because they are no longer my responsibility. WordPress carries the weight for me now.
But by writing all of these stories guarantees my immortality.
I don’t need that, but it’s so much to live a simple, happy, and uncluttered life once you write.
I love most of what I’ve written. Everybody knows I hate writing dating and relationship advice but I found a way to keep it going for my readers who enjoy it.
I think my followers now know that I write Phicklephilly because of my simple love of creating. I’ve always been that way since I was a child. Drawing a picture. Sculpting something out of clay. Writing a song. Writing a book and a screenplay. Creating a comic strip.
I am an entity that apparently must always be creating and am happiest when I’m doing that very thing.
“If you live a life that is without the elements of who you really are you will not be happy.”
I feel happier than I have ever felt in my entire life.
I’ve lived a big exciting life. I’ve done a lot and experienced much. But it really comes down to a few simple components for me and please take heed if you wish.
Your health is essential. You have that. you’re already winning.
Surround yourself with good people. Whether they are friends, family or even some wonderful pet companions.
Have something to do every day that you like to do. If you hate your job, find a better one that suits your life needs. It’s a third of your life, work. Why spend your day being miserable? Do something you don’t hate every day. It’s a short life. Enjoy yourself!
To love and be loved. This is a tough one. Most people need this one. Love yourself and find someone else to love. If they love you back… Awesome!
Have something to look FORWARD to. I don’t care what it is. Just have something. Brunch with a friend, a red envelope arriving from Netflix, a party, a day off, something you want to do that you made time to do.
That’s it.
The rest is just stuff and bullshit.
Focus on the top 5.
Thank you one and all for taking the time out of your busy lives to take the time to read my little blog about dating, relationships and a bunch of stuff from my life.
I wish I could throw a big party and invite each and every one of you and we could all hang out and really get to know one another.
I’ve had the joy to become friends with some of the other talented writers on WordPress and it has been an absolute delight.
So many great people on here.
I also really appreciate my friends who have read and have subscribed to Phicklephilly. I love knowing they are here with me on this journey of self discovery and I hope some of this will inspire them to push forward on their lives.
Two and a half years ago there was nothing. I decided to start to write and now this is here.
You can create anything you want. You just have to do it and do it every day.
Look what can happen if you put your mind to something.
I’m still going to try in 2019 to get a couple of books published on Amazon Kindle this year!
Thank you, Thank you, Thank you!!!!
Anything can be done, and you can do it too.
Please reach out to me for anything. I’ll always get back to as fast as I can.
My heart is full of love.
Life is good and my daughter Lorelei is healthy and happy, so that’s all I need.
Thank you one and all. This means the world to me and I hope you continue to enjoy the content I provide in 2019 and beyond!
There’s so much more to the story!!!
Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.
Happy New Year! I’ve been writing this blog for over two and a half years now! I appreciate all of my readers that have stayed with me on this journey of dating and discovery. I want to thank all of my followers who have helped grow the site and I love all of your comments! Keep them coming!
2018 has been an amazing year of dating, relationships, friends, family, self discovery and most of all, love.
I found a girlfriend! (If you’ve been reading this blog I know what you’re thinking, but bear with me. The blog is called Phicklephilly for a reason! See: Cherie)
Also…. I had a goal to reach 50,000 views by Christmas 2018. Thanks to all of you I achieved that number on Christmas day!
Thank you so much!!!
Here’s some of the things you can expect to see in 2019!
Murder Mystery Weekend
I’ve finally decided to try my hand at writing Erotica. It won’t be the usual intense in and out action like most erotic stories. I’ve been working on this idea for a while, and I want it to be a rich and satisfying tale. This series has already begun! Because it’s NSFW (Not Safe for Work) I’ve decided to publish it on my new sister site to Phicklephilly called, La Petite Mort. (There is a link to get to that sight that is live right now!)
The first few chapters will set up the situation and introduce the characters. If you’re looking for the sex, there’s some steam, but you’ll have to be patient. I like a story and character development.
I also have another series starting over there entitled….
Another Life
Have you ever wondered if you exist in another world living Another Life?
I have, and I decided to explore another world that I could have possibly inhabited. In this series I’m a teenager in the late 70’s. My parents are divorced. My stepmom is a bitch. I have roommates. I work at an auto repair shop. I’m close to my uncle and my cousins. I go to college. I navigate this other world and see how this alternate path turns out.
This is part one of a new series I want to write that mixes mind control with transformation elements. This is the first time I have written something primarily based on mind control and while this first part is very smut heavy later parts will have more focus on the mind control aspects for other purposes (as well as smut). I hope you enjoy and please give me feedback, it would really help!
There will also be some exclusive erotic series that I’ll only publish on La Petite Mort so for now they’re a secret. You’ll have to visit the site if you want to read those!
You can find all the goodies there starting in January 2019:
Let me know what you think because this is all new literary ground for me.
Enjoy!
(Read at your own risk, and praying none of my sisters read it!)
As always, your comments and suggestions are most welcome.
Remember, this is my first foray into erotica, so any positive and negative feedback will be very welcome!
California Dreamin’
If you’ve been following this blog for the last year, (and I hope you have!) You read about how I began to tell random stories from my past. (Search: My Young Life) (Wildwood Daze) Many were very personal and I needed to get them out. I was comfortable enough with the regular content and strength of phicklephilly to tell those stories. The feedback and outpouring of assurance was glorious and I thank you all for your words and support!
But I also had the opportunity to write about my young life playing as a musician in several rock and roll bands. Those series ran every Friday in 2018. (Search: Renegade) Wildwood Daze) (Union Jacks)
Now it’s time to tell the crazy, winding tale of my journey from New Jersey to Los Angeles in the early 80’s. It was a mad time to be a young, good-looking musician in a rock band in L.A. So get ready for the real insanity to begin in 2019!!
These stories are some of, if not the most crazy events that I have ever experienced. I’m sure I’m going to be laughing out loud writing them.
And there are plenty!
Cherie
My lovely girlfriend Cherie will continue to appear every Monday at 8am. We’ve been together for a while now and she has well-earned the number 1 spot on my blog. Strap in… it’s going to be a bumpy ride in 2019!
Dating and Relationship Advice
This series really caught on last year. I originally wrote and published it once a week. I just wanted something to fill the Saturday slot. But when a friend of mine ran into some problems in his relationship, I decided to write more. I made a pact with myself that I would write a piece every day and publish every day at noon and twice on Saturday! This way when I didn’t see him he would always have my words to help him through his struggle.
I frankly don’t enjoy writing Dating and Relationship Advice as much as everything else I compose, but people seem to like it. I’m a big purveyor of, “Give the people what they want” So I’ll march on to bring you the best and most up to dating and relationship advice I can come up with! Thanks for making that column a hit!
UPDATE: The more I’ve thought about this the more I want to kill it. I hate writing it and editing it so I’m going to take a break from it at some point. If my traffic drops dramatically I’ll resume it, but if not I’ll stop publishing it. I’d much rather publish content I really love and believe in that’s fun to create, rather than just pounding out content simply for traffic..
UPDATE 2.0: I found a way to keep it going and I hope it works. It will save me a ton of time in the editing process and in the same moment I can support other writers.
I love the idea of Dating and Relationship advice on phicklephilly, but it takes so much time to create and edit, it’s eating up the time when I should be creating fresh content that IS phicklephilly.
But here I am on New Years Eve and I think I came up with a way to make it work.
So for now it’s on for 2019!
Bear with me!
Crazy Dating Stories
These posts have become a bi-monthly staple of the phicklephilly universe. They’re the funniest and most cringe worthy posts on the site’s history. But like I said… my readers love them. Everybody likes a bad dating story, and I have so many to tell. Crazy Dating Stories are like catnip to my loyal following. I love writing them so I’ll do my best to remember them and keep cranking out the trash!
Enjoy!
Sun Stories
Sun Stories have been a monthly series that have appeared on phicklephilly since it’s beginning. There have been so many great tales that have come out of the tanning salon. I have enough to publish an entire book. (I plan to once again try to get Phicklephilly and Sun Stories published as books on Amazon in 2019!)
Highlights to appear this year in Sun Stories will be the introduction of a couple of new characters. (Some enduring, some fleeting)
Chanel – The nerve-wracking and sexy two-part story of the pretty Romanian gypsy that came in from the cold to tan at the salon one night.
Kita – She’s a cute, naive, 20-year-old Asian girl who goes to college in Philly, but lives in Florida with her sister and parents. She loves to tan and is a unique character. I can’t reveal too much, but I’m interested to see how this story plays out.
Jazmin – She’s an exotic, smoking hot Middle Eastern girl who works across the street from the salon at the Guess retail outlet. This is an intense and jarring story about a girl who knew too much… but not enough about one thing.
Tales of Rock
This is my favorite series to write on phicklephilly. As a former musician and rock trivia buff, I love writing these stories. I get a thrill out of telling stories about musicians, sex, drugs and rock n’ roll in general. This enduring series will continue to own the 8am slot every Sunday morning through 2019!
A couple of highlights this year in Tales of Rock:
There will be several disturbing stories about underage girls getting involved with some of the most beloved of rock’s musicians. It’s a lurid series, but someone has to tell these tales. (It might as well be me.)
The Theory of the 13 Year Rock vs. Pop Cycle
This is a 5 part series that runs every Sunday for a little over a month. I did tons of research for this one and I am proud to present this interesting series to my readers! The cycle spans over half a century of Rock and Pop!
Enjoy!
In Search of the Forgotten Heroes of 70’s Rock
I loved writing this post because I grew up listening to these icons in the 1970’s.
Steppenwolf
This one came straight from my heart and soul.
Celebrity Sightings
I’ll continue to crank out stories about local and global celebrities I’ve met in my life. I may even write a few about some actors and actresses I simply adore but haven’t met!
Tinder Moments
I’m sick of these. They’re funny and weird but hard to collect and assemble. They’ll appear monthly through 2019, but after that I’m cancelling this series. (I think online dating sites have been played out anyway.)
Sensuality, Sex & Something Else
I will continue to promote my friend Jad’s blog every Sunday at 3pm. She’s a great lady and her stuff is always a fun read. Whether her series will continue on phicklephilly in 2020 is anybody’s guess at this point. I’ll have to see what the site looks like by then.
Update! Jad has since reached out to me to tell me that she’s met someone special and will not be writing that series anymore. However, she has told me that she will continue to write her blog but it will be private and for her eyes only.
Please join me in wishing her health and happiness in her life!
Thank you Jad for your great stories!
Racquel Writes!
I met the effervescent Racquel on word press. I love her writing and her stories. I decided to feature her every Saturday (Or i it Sunday?) at 3pm on phicklephilly in 2019. She’s a great lady and I hope you enjoy her journey. Please read, comment and follow this wonderful lady’s work! Her series begins next Saturday on January 5th at 3pm EST!
Thank you!
Later in the year I’ve decided to rerun the Rebecca series from 2016. There may be some new developments brewing in that lost relationship this year…
Stay tuned!
So thank you again, one and all for your wonderful support. I’ll continue to deliver quality, unique content this year. I hope you continue the journey with me.
It’s going to be a fun ride!
Life is fleeting and fragile. Enjoy yourself!
I work a lot and when this post publishes I’ll be asleep on New Years Day.
I will arise at some point tomorrow and make my way to the Mummers Parade for a moment.
Thank you one and all for your ongoing support!
Zoolon Forever!
Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.
After two and a half years and 942 blog posts I have miraculously reached 50,000 views on phicklephilly!!!
This is the best Christmas gift that I could have imagined this holiday season.
When I started this I never thought it would reach such heights. I didn’t even know what I was doing. I just wanted to create again after not writing for over 10 years.
I was inspired by a lovely, charming waitress and a guy I worked with who said I should write about all of the ladies in my life.
It started out once a week on Mondays. I wrote about a waitress I was infatuated with at the time. (See: Maria – Amor En Vano)
Maria has become my muse and the ongoing inspiration for this blog.
The best part of that relationship is that we’re friends but rarely hang out. There’s no romantic connection and that’s what keeps it healthy. I could never get involved with her because we live in two different worlds.
When I see Maria, it’s the very best of Maria. I don’t ever experience the other aspects of her life. I’m sure they are extremely challenging for my muse. Life is complicated and confounding to my muse as she navigates the minefield of her life in the service industry and her romantic entanglements.
She has limitless value to me, but I never experience the darker aspects of her life.
It may seem one-sided but that’s how it’s best suited for our current relationship. She lives her life and I live mine. Completely different. I never see her struggles. I only hear about them.
Granted, I’m always available to help her in any way I can and I’m willing to help her in any way I can.
But for the most part when I see her it’s “Greatest Hits.”
I’ll be spending Christmas day going through all of my contacts to try to find her a marketing gig at an agency somewhere in the city.
I want to do it. I want my muse to be happy and successful. She’s been through too much. I have very little invested in her. But her presence has been the trigger that ignited this blog so I must honor her.
Maria needs to do nothing.
The train that is phicklephilly is already rolling down the track and has been for the last two years. (27,000 visitors and 50,000 views!)
She’s my inspiration! I have to help her!
The beauty of all of this is for once the muse doesn’t become the girlfriend. That’s where the problems always start.
I’m in a better place than I’ve ever been and my creative work continues to flourish. Whatever was inspired two years ago worked!
I remember when I created the first skeleton of phicklephilly I had no clue what I was doing or where I was going. I knew I had to start dating again, (Ugh) and knew I needed content.
I created the blog and that was a huge first step. But actually, that’s the easy part.
You can sign up for any writing site on the internet and they’ll pretty much effortlessly walk you through it.
What it really comes down to after that is up to you.
I created phicklephilly in July of 2016.
I never wrote a word until September.
The whole summer went by with me having a blog and not doing anything about it. Pretty much a bit more of what I’d done for the last 10 years.
Nothing.
I asked myself, “Is this going to be another thing you talk about with people you know at lunch and over drinks and never do?
I paused and thought about Maria. A beautiful, sweet woman from humble beginnings like myself, that was self-made. A woman who told herself that she was determined to get her marketing degree and rise above her current vocation.
Am I going to write and create again, or am I just going to talk about it over beers with a bunch of people and never do it?
That would be easy and dumb.
I know people who are far better than me in regard to the written word.
I discussed what I was going to do. They said I had inspired them to write again too.
Here’s the difference.
They are stuck in their lives and will NEVER take pen to paper ever again.
That’s fine. It has no effect on my life. But I needed to evolve and start creating again. I’ve done art. I’ve done music. Writing should be easy if I just put my mind to it.
Anyone who is reading this who writes knows it’s not easy.
You have to find your space and be alone and bang out a 1000 words about whatever. Fuck writers block. You just have to be alone and create. You do it every day and crank out the art.
Like a ballerina, she takes classes every day. My father once said, if you want to be a painter, go paint every day. Well I like to create and I write everyday.
I was chatting with my sister Gabrielle at the holiday party on Sunday, and I was telling her about what’s coming out in 2019.
“How do you have the time to come up with so much material and stories to have it come out everyday, twice a day?”
“I like to work and be busy, but in my down time instead of sitting around or blowing money doing anything else, I write. When I’m off I edit or create. It’s not hard if you put your mind to it.”
Nothing’s hard if you put your mind to it.
That’s how everything has been accomplished in the world.
Most people just go to work and then do a bunch of other things that don’t evolve them and they wonder why they’re going nowhere or attach themselves to things they think will make them happy but it’s all a fail.
Put something on Earth that wasn’t here before you got here.
Tell your story.
If you’re serious you’ll do it.
If you want my help. I’ll help you.
Everybody needs a mentor.
Me included.
Happy Holidays! Thank you one and all for all the views and comments and follows. phicklephilly has grown beyond anything I could have imagined.
Thank you, Maria for your inspiration!
I’m going to try to write this damn thing until the day I die.
I hope you all enjoy all of the new aspects I’ve added in 2019.
Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.
Ronald Belford “Bon” Scott (9 July 1946 – 19 February 1980) was a Scottish-Australian singer and songwriter, best known for being the primary lead vocalist and lyricist of the Australian hard rock band AC/DC from 1974 until his death in 1980.[1]
Scott was born in Forfar, Scotland, and raised in Kirriemuir, before moving to Melbourne with his family in 1952 at the age of six. They lived in the suburb of Sunshine for four years before moving to Fremantle.[1] Scott formed his first band, The Spektors, in 1964 and became the band’s drummer and occasional lead vocalist. He performed in several other bands including The Valentines and Fraternity before replacing Dave Evans as the lead singer of AC/DC in 1974.[1]
AC/DC’s popularity grew throughout the 1970s, initially in Australia, and then internationally. Their 1979 album Highway to Hell reached the top twenty in the United States, and the band seemed on the verge of a commercial breakthrough. However, on 19 February 1980, Scott died after a night out in London. AC/DC briefly considered disbanding, but the group recruited vocalist Brian Johnson of the British glam rock band Geordie. AC/DC’s subsequent album, Back in Black, was released only five months later, and was a tribute to Scott. It went on to become the second best-selling album in history.[1]
In the July 2004 issue of Classic Rock, Scott was rated as number one in a list of the “100 Greatest Frontmen Of All Time” ahead of Freddie Mercury and Robert Plant. Hit Parader ranked Scott as fifth on their 2006 list of the 100 Greatest Heavy Metal Vocalists of all time.[3]
Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly I publish everyday.
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