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Laughing Coyote Performs “How I Gave My Cat Bulimia and other Weird Tales,” Oct 25 Santa Fe

Open mic PERFORMERS ON BARCELONA, Sunday Oct 25, 6:30-8pm, Unitarian Church in Santa Fe, 107 W. Barcelona.

Come see music, humor, spoken word, etcPhoto0290.  I am one of many performers. See ya’ there. 2015-06-25 20.25.37

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Laughing Coyote is well on her way to becoming Poet Lariat de Empanda de Bano do New Mexico

Breaking News  (well not exactly ‘breaking,’ more like it’s been sitting here in my TO Do list for six months I know that Spring was, well, last Spring.)

Laughing Coyote is well on her way to becoming Poet Lariat de Empanda de Bano do New Mexico, a very prestigious position, similar to being Miss America in every respect except the aspects that are the same.

Laughing Coyote has been published in Spring 2015 edition of  The Malpais Review, a print publication out of Placitas, New Mexico.

Yes this is real. When not chasing her tail, or inventing new ways to experience old problems, Laughing Coyote writes poetry like any sensible quasi-human in animal form–or was that quasi-animal in human form?–or human animal in quasi form? Check out Laughing Coyote’s alter ego in a poem featuring her best friend, deserts, cottonwoods and just enough death and love to make things interesting.

Come to LGBT MALPAIS REVIEW POETRY READING!!!!!!

Come to OUTSPOKEN PRESENTS LGBT Anthology in Albuquerque, THIS SUNDAY OCTOBER 25, at THE SOURCE, 1111 Carlisle, Albuquerque NM from 3 to 5pm.  Hear many poets!  You will be relieved to know LC’s poem is only 3 minutes long, freeing you up to hear the many “non-Empanada de Bano,” poets, of which there are many. 🙂  They are,  well many of them anyway, are certified poets, not “certifiable,” like Laughing Coyote. Don’t tell anyone but Laughing Coyote has been writing poetry illegally for years.  Shhhh!

For those of you who like to plan ahead and not just mindlessly go to a poetry reading completely unprepared, here are some teasers.

No the poem is not funny, or not intentionally so, kind of the opposite of this blog: where often enough, what is intended as funny is just heartbreakingly sad. . . so if you need laughter, you need to bring your own this time. 🙂   (If you really need a supply of unused laughter, contact LC here, at the bottom of this blog where the “contact/comment” tab is buried under the tags. LC keeps supplies of laughter with her at all times, in case an open-mic goes seriously wrong and people start killing themselves in the audience.)

Laughing Coyote’s poem “Nevada Blue,” is on page 178 of The Malpais Review and there is nothing quite like hearing LC read her own work.  Plus. the issue features many local popular poets, both well known, sort-of-known, known by a few, and completely unknown and at least one not yet born…these editors are GOOD, let me tell you.  (The next issue may feature a poem that HAS NOT BEEN WRITTEN YET, which is just UNHEARD OF in publishing circles.)  Anyway this issue includes a mini-LGBT Anthology as well, more proof that gay folks can write and spell and rhyme just like the rest of the planet. Since I am gay every other day,  (and asexual on Sundays like the good Lord wants) I can make these kinds of statements.

The Malpais Review (and Malpais means ‘badlands’ in the spirit of desert lands) is available for purchase in the following places and also online.

The Malpais Review is available at these bookstores: The Range Cafe Store in Bernalillo, NM; Arte de Placitas Gallery in Placitas, NM; Op Cit Bookstores in Santa Fe, NM; Moby Dickens in Taos, NM; and Beyond Baroque in Los Angeles, CA; Treasure House Books (2012 S. Plaza NW) in Old Town, Albuquerque, NM; Op Cit Bookstore in Santa Fe (500 Montezuma, Sambusco Center); Gulf of Maine Bookstore in Brunswick, ME (132 Maine St.) and Anthology Books in Portland, OR. Also, by clicking the issue links on this page, The Malpais Review may be purchased through Amazon.

Support your local publications!

order online http://www.malpaisreview.com

Stay tuned for announcements about publication releases in  Santa Fe where you can here the poets LIVE. No you don’t need the Internet to see us!!!

(This is if all goes well in Albuquerque. The last time Laughing Coyote read at a poetry reading a riot broke out and arrests were made).

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I Want to Get Paid for Being Afraid

I Want to Get Paid for Being Afraid

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I want to have a job doing something I am good at. I am good at being afraid. I think I am good enough to get paid for it. I am expert enough at it to be paid for being professionally fearful, not this pissant amateur stuff, like being afraid of the dark and being afraid of ghosts or bumps in the night. Pfft! That shit is easy. Any dork with a nervous system can be afraid of those things, including possible monsters under the bed, or creepy things in the closet. Those take no imagination whatsoever. Everyone knows that monsters hide under the bed and those other things are in the closet because under-the-bed monsters tend to be very large and selfish and also drone on and on about their big monster problems, so you, as a smaller, and probably healthier creepy thing, wouldn’t want to be under the bed with them anyway because who wants to hear about their boring large monster problems?

I’m more creative than that. Way more creative. That’s what I would put on my Fear Resume:

  • FAR MORE AFRAID THAN ANYONE ELSE YOU KNOW
  • AFRAID OF SHIT IT WOULD NEVER OCCUR TO ANYONE ELSE TO BE AFRAID OF
  • Able to multitask and BE AFRAID OF SEVERAL THINGS AT THE SAME TIME. (My personal record, occurring this afternoon, 20 things, and if you give me a minute, I’ll make it 21.)
  • Able to drop everything and BE AFRAID AT A MOMENT’S NOTICE
  • Also ABLE TO BE AFRAID WHILE DOING OTHER THINGS, so the future employer will know that I’m just not sitting around on the couch eating bon-bons being fearful, but that I pretty much can do anything AND BE AFRAID TOO.

So it will be very much like hiring TWO PEOPLE instead of one. You can hire me to wash the dog and worry about having anaphylactic shock from the soap, fleas  from the dog, germs from the dog that carry a special brain disease that only people with blonde hair and blue eyes get, and so that research for the cure is underfunded and what cure their might be is almost totally inaccessible and really expensive; plus, given I don’t get paid enough to even buy 1/8 of the vaccine under development, and since it can only be grown in one strain of African-violets that don’t grow in New Mexico where I live, I can worry about the inaccessibility of obtaining a vaccine that doesn’t really exist yet and that I can’t afford because                      a) I’m a dog washer,  b) I live in New Mexico where wages SUCK, and I can also be afraid that if the pending vaccine  devastates the population of the African violets, it will cheat the world of said African violets, and also kill off a special population of mites that only grow in African violets, that, as it turns out, would be the answer to curing stupidity in humans, so then I might have to also be afraid of the fact that, if I save myself by taking the vaccine, I might have just killed off the human race.

Am I hired yet?

I can be afraid of anything. Give me a minute and I’ll find a reason to be terrified of the color shirt you are wearing. Yes, I am that good.

WHY WE SHOULD PAY PEOPLE TO BE AFRAID

Why, you ask, should we pay people to be afraid? A very good question and right now I won’t be anxious about why you are asking me that, and I won’t worry about feeling invalidated or that I might have just proposed the stupidest thing ever. I figure that if we can pay the guys on Jackass who injure themselves on purpose on video, and hire that rich ignorant bitch Paris Hilton to do commercials, I can get paid for being afraid. Right now I also won’t be concerned about the fact that you are thinking I’m the biggest pussy ever. My usual response to that accusation is: Just because I have a pussy doesn’t mean I am one.

I can also turn the fear off, for a while anyway, which is handy while I’m receiving instructions from the aliens, no ha ha, just kidding, my boss (who I have been assured is not an alien although he kind of has that “look,”—those of you who are familiar with aliens know what I mean­­­) anyway, while receiving instructions from my boss, I can turn the fear off long enough to listen without worrying about if the boss is trying to kill me, or what he really means when he says, “Make sure you get the dogs wet when you are bathing them.” (Yes yes everyone makes foolish mistakes sometimes. You can’t dry clean a dog apparently. Apologies to Mrs. Dunham. Your new dog is being shipped to you on a drone by Amazon. Accessories will have to be dropped on your house separately).

THE INTROVERTED TERRORIST

Okay, so why should I get paid handsomely for becoming a professional Terrorist?

The word terrorist is misunderstood and misused. A terrorist should also include someone who can instill terror in him or herself, thereby obviating the need for extroverted terrorist types to spend time and money trying to make me afraid because I, being a total professional introverted terrorist, have been able to do that for myself. To show you how accomplished I really am and how much you need to hire me: I was afraid of Ebola, George W. Bush and the Tea Party before they even existed. There. That should convince you that out of all the scared people in the world, I am the one worth paying.

I am negotiating with the extroverted terrorists as we speak: they could pay me to automatically be afraid of them at a fraction of the cost it would take them to make me afraid of them. The government should pay me for my public service.

So should you.

I can also teach others to be introverted terrorists. See, mom, that Ph.D. wasn’t for nothing!

I AM BETTER AT BEING AFRAID THAN YOU

So why you should pay me to be afraid? Because I can be afraid of the things you would be afraid of if you could just expand beyond monsters under the bed, creepy things in the closet and death. That one, especially, is so yesterday. Any person with consciousness, skin and an email account can be afraid of death. What you need is someone to be afraid of things you never thought of so you don’t have to do it, and to also take over being afraid of what’s in the closet, under the bed, and in the afterlife (which is a really weird term if you think about it….if you are still alive how the hell is it the afterlife?).

Also the thing about being afraid all the time is that it has a threshold; if you are afraid of something long enough, and think about it all the time and imagine all the possible scenarios, eventually, you get bored and also your nervous system collapses and you couldn’t be afraid of it if you tried. But this is time consuming and dangerous. People can die from being afraid. If you hire me, I’ll save your life.

WHAT MONSTERS SAY ABOUT ME

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Basically I am so afraid I wear the fears out. They get up and go home and complain about me to the other monsters in the closet, “Oh my god, so needy. One or two ‘boos’ or ‘gotcha’s’ or ‘I’m here to kill you and take your soul to hell’ does the trick with most people, and then I go home and watch Ghoul-Flix. Not with her. We scare the crap out of her and she comes back for more. It’s like a nagging bratty spoiled child: what else can I be afraid of? What else can I be afraid of? Huh? Last night I ran out of shit to scare her with!

“She used up fearing having no transportation, being unemployed, having breast cancer with no insurance, having no friends who would help her during the breast cancer treatment, being diagnosed with M.S., (that’s Multiple Sclerosis, not a master’s of science) never having sex again, never having love again, not being able to write because she’s living in a box, with breast cancer, MS, rats, and other dirty people who can’t spell because of the outbreak of texting, and because her computer broke and she couldn’t replace it; going insane, having Ebola, having the Republicans take over the Senate, having the Republicans steal to 2016 election, making Fox News the only news channel in the U.S., having to relocate to Oklahoma; Roe v Wade being reversed, birth control being outlawed, and being made to adopt a baby at age 47 and care for her with no money and being made to shop at Wal-Mart on Black Friday every year until she dies; and after it was said and done, Debbie still said: Okay, what else you got?  I was tempted to say, ‘And you want to be a published successful writer!’ but even I thought that was over the top. I’m a humane monster. If she’s dead, she can’t be afraid anymore and what is the point of that?

“I had to make up some shit about how lint can get stuck in your belly button and cause almost instant ovarian disease in women over forty-five, who are blond, experiencing peri-menopause, who have a history of using nicotine gum to get over smoking, and who teach at UNM, read Nancy Drew as a child and have bad gums.”

“Wow, Gerald (the monster’s name is Gerald), that’s some amazing individualized targeting,” says Gerald’s buddy, whose name is, predictably, “Creepy.”

“I know! Can you believe it? I should get overtime for this shit. I had to get the Gene Identification Team on it,” says Gerald. “You should see her fucking genome.”

That must be really scary,” says Creepy shuddering.

HOW EMPLOYING ME WILL MAKE YOU RICH                       

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So, you see basically someone who is willing to be afraid not only of what they are afraid of, but what you are afraid of, can eventually wear out the fear to the point that it doesn’t exist anymore, and yet you didn’t waste any time on it. I did. So basically you compensate me, because I’m way better and more efficient at being afraid than you are, for doing the dirty work and you can get back to being brave, and winning the Nobel Peace prize, or at least conquering level 23 of Candy Crush with a focus not yet seen among human beings.

And I will be able to buy myself dinner and stop eating Ramen noodles, because if there ever was a scary substance, that one is it, just behind pork rinds, and whatever the hell tofu really is. And that seitan shit? That stuff is pure gluten. Seriously. Look it up.

THE U.S. ECONOMY RUNS ON FEAR

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Seriously, I should also be paid to be afraid because our economy runs on fear. People are afraid they are fat, so they go on diets, buy diet books and diet products to make them thinner. People are afraid they are ugly and unloved, so they buy    make up and cars to compensate. People are afraid of jihadists flying airplanes into more buildings, so we support an economy based on the implements of war. Fear is very profitable to businesses and very expensive for people. So for a very reasonable fee, I can be afraid for you. You can spend the money you would have spent on Prozac and Xanex on me. All the money you would have spent on fear based products, you could have spent on me instead, and I could make all that foolish purchasing on your behalf, thereby saving you money and rescuing our economy at the same time.

If that economic plan doesn’t quite make sense to you, turn on Fox News, and listen to any Republican on T.V. (because they don’t let the smarter ones talk anymore for fear of an outbreak of reasonableness), especially a Tea Partier, or anyone in Congress. After a day of that, you’ll see my reasoning is absolutely spotless and that you should pay me to make all your Fear Purchasing for you, and I’ll throw in actually being afraid for you for a nominal fee and free you up for all that time consuming, heartless capitalism you’ll be employing instead because you’ll no longer be afraid of hell, or instant or time-delayed karma. You can invest freely and suck the world dry.

FEAR: A POLITICAL SOLUTION

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Politicians instill fear so they can pretend to be the solution, which is the reason why the idiots running Maine, New Jersey, and New York State are quarantining people who have been in West Africa, despite well documented evidence that unless someone has a high fever and is vomiting and shitting uncontrollably all over the place, they are not contagious. The elected officials are doing this to get votes. Here’s how it works.  First, you create more fear by ignoring the facts provided by the CDC and then you take care of the unreasonable fear by implementing strategies to prevent infections that would never have happened to begin with so you can argue that you were “looking out for the people,” and garner votes from the part of the population that doesn’t bother to think past Fox News and CNN, which is mostly everyone. Obviously making the right people afraid is powerful, so let me help you get your favorite politicians elected by me developing all the needed fears and then voting in all the right places, since apparently voter fraud is endemic in this country and I can get out the FEAR VOTE as many times as I want.

PAY ME TO SCARE OTHERS AND PROFIT FROM IT

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Since fear is contagious (I have no idea why it’s never been quarantined. I should definitely be locked up) I can help make others afraid and get them to do what you want to do for your business or political aspirations, by simply being afraid in the most professional ways possible. Want some people to be afraid of the sun? Hand it over to me. Not only will I find ways to be afraid of sunlight that no one else ever thought of, I will induce that fear in someone else, so you can sell that new product for skin and also for FEAR that you have now developed because you were smart enough to pay me to be afraid for you and then I gave the fear to other people and now you can sell your new sugar pill to everyone I’ve come in contact with. (Note that I’m hypoglycemic and the placebo won’t work on me).

I blog therefore I can spread Fear like an air-born virus and all without throwing up on someone’s leg. Hire me. I’m better at being afraid than anyone else and I’m very sure that by employing me, you can profit from it.

And I will get to do what I do best: be afraid!  I fucking like it! Who wouldn’t? We all like what we’re good at. 🙂

Fear has turned me into a monster.

And look out: this year for Halloween I will have the scariest costume ever. I’m going as gluten.

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BOO!

The Laughing Coyote

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WHAT TO DO DURING AN OUTBREAK OF HAPPINESS

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I woke up today wanting to have a good time. I think they call it “having fun.” I wasn’t sure what to do: I thought it might possibly be related to “enjoyment,” or “the absence of misery,” or “not having to work today, or not until later and then, not that hard.”

I got up before my phone alarm went off. I looked around my house for something fun. I realized, “I don’t know how to have fun,” or “I don’t know what would be fun,” and “my life isn’t set up for fun.”  I concluded, “Shit, even simple pleasure escapes me.”

I tried smiling and my face fell off and I spent a discouraging day on the floor scrabbling around for the pieces, thinking what the fuck was I thinking? See? Just contemplating happiness has made me miserable. And then a question erupted from the relative silence of my bowels: could Happiness be the cause of Unhappiness?

If I hadn’t been thinking about “fun,” none of this bad shit, like trying to find my left cheek here on the floor, and not stepping on my eyes on my way to finding my eyebrows, and trying to put my skin back on my bones in something resembling a façade, and then realizing the mirror makes everything backwards. .  .had I not been “rediscovering joy,” none of this would have ever happened, including the crooked smile on my forehead. No I don’t  want to talk about it, thank you onslaught of new age healers.

Typically I am cowering in some existential corner, trying to survive the onslaught of life. Given the fact that I am set up pretty well in my world right now despite the IRS saying otherwise, this recoiling is somewhat ridiculous. I’ll bet the Syrians and Ukrainians and women who can’t get abortions, aren’t having a good “cower,” why should I? Sure, I am supposed to be grieving my mother’s death, but since no one is keeping an eye on me, I don’t have to unless I want to and right now I’d rather do anything other than feel bad. Even I have limits.

I know how to feel bad. I’m an expert at it. And I’m bored. Boredom, I’m ashamed to say, is my biggest motivator.  Once, in my early twenties, I decided “screw this, I’m going to bed and never getting up again.” Four hours later I was up and around and chatting with my boyfriend on the sidewalk. Giving up was mindbogglingly tedious. I decided that if a major depressive episode couldn’t be more entertaining, than I just wasn’t going to participate. You can only do so much with grey.

Returning to the present, (or some facsimile thereof) I decided, firmly, that I would now attempt happiness. Drum roll please. Or, perhaps more meekly, as I said in a text to a friend, “I am now ready to heroically attempt some ‘non-committal enjoyment’.”

In order to embark upon the pursuit of happiness in a safe and informed manner, I turned to Laughing Coyote Productions resident psychological expert, Dr. Crabby Ass.

He promptly advised against it.

In his article “Doing Psychotherapy with the Impossible,” the renown Dr. Crabby Ass writes, “I’m a trained psychotherapist. I help people with happiness. Not how to get happiness, everyone knows THAT can’t be done, how to stay away from it. In the words of one my clients, ‘I don’t have time for happiness. It gets in the way of worrying, which leads to efficiency and getting things done. If I didn’t worry and have unattainable goals to keep me busy, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.’”

Another friend of mine, who lives in the Northwest was more subtle. She refers to the state of being in which a person feels a profound lack of unhappiness, as “The H word,” out of deference to its often dangerous effects. She wasn’t trying to discourage me, but hinted that the Big H (her other name for it) might be too much to shoot for especially if one is vulnerable to the Big D, depression.

Thus I spent the next few days trying to “Un” the “Unhappy”, as a way to make the endeavor safer for me, the result of which was a non-word that had way to many U’s in it which then suggested other things: UnUnhappy. Thus ended my dream of creating  a safe word for The Big H.

Then Dr. Crabby Ass, with my best interest in mind, emailed me an article he wrote back in April 2014 in Pessimism Today entitled,

WHAT TO DO DURING AN OUTBREAK OF HAPPINESS 

1. Don’t run. It will just chase you.

2. Stand still and make yourself as big as possible. Holding your arms over your head and waving them is known to be effective in some cases. Make Happiness think that you are bigger than it and that you may not be worth the trouble.

3. Don’t panic and run around screaming. Remember Happiness is probably more scared of you than you are of it.

4. Preparation. Think ahead before you leave the house. What might I need to have with me just in case happiness shows up unannounced? Carrying around a copy of Sartre’s “No Exit” is a proven method of fending off unwanted happiness. So is watching You Tube Videos about how Republican congresses in many states are closing down almost all the abortion clinics, thereby saving women (and men) from having to make the most important decision of their lives, and now babies can grow up with I had to have you stapled to their foreheads.

5. Visit your local Planned Parenthood (before it gets completed defunded) and learn about the causes of Happiness and various prophylactic measures that can be taken so that Unwanted Happiness just doesn’t even occur. Yes, you can prevent Joy with a bit of rubber and some water based lube.

6. Should you end up with some Happiness despite these measures, remember to talk to it in low measured tones. You don’t want it to get too excited.

7. Should Happiness come into your life, don’t feed it!

8. In the event you are experiencing uncalled for joy, keep an obnoxious family member or ex on speed dial. They can either talk the Happiness down over the phone, sometimes by merely breathing into it, or they can just show up on your doorstep, bringing with them their usual interpersonal toolkit that always makes you want to drive off the nearest bridge.

9.  If you are close enough to work, this is the one instance where running from Happiness will probably be effective. Practice your wind sprints out in the yard beforehand, just in case.

10. As a preventive measure wear a mask and earplugs, so you don’t accidentally breathe in Happiness Cooties from those ridiculous sanguine yoga people, or hear the unmistakable mantra of the ‘infectious laugh.”

11. Stop reading the Laughing Coyote blog! Duh, that  should have been obvious.

If Happiness continues to attack

12. Laugh in its face. That’ll disarm the smiley little fucker.

13. Carry a weapon. You know, like a pistol, or a semi-automatic. In a holster.  Or around your neck, like a big metal pendant. When you are walking down the street and drinking a shotgun latte at Starbucks. (For the recipe of shotgun latte, post a comment).

Thus, if Happiness shows up, you can shoot it in the face and then claim you felt threatened. Yea Open Carry Laws!

14. Seek help. If you continue to feel assaulted by Happiness, there’s a support group for people like you: Jubiliation Anonymous.

Step 1: We admitted that we are powerless over Happiness and that our lives have become unmanageable.

Step 2:  We came to believe a power greater than ourselves (Re: GUN pointed at my head) could restore us to reality…oops I mean, sanity…..

Step 3: Made a decision to turn our life back over to our Unresolved Suffering and Our Problems as We Understood them…..solutions are for pussies…

14. Or call the hotline: 1-800-WE-WHEEP. (Yes there’s an H in there for obvious, by now, reasons).

 

After all of this decision making and self-exploration and resolution creating and consulting, Laughing Coyote needs a nap.

I will continue to update you on the progress of the UnUnHappy Project….maybe those U’s aren’t so bad after all….

Best regards,

LC

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Laughing Coyote on Easter Break

Due to a mishap involving Obamacare, taxes, vodka, some cat fur, some Easter eggs, a blender and PMS, Laughing Coyote is indisposed….watching re-runs of Battlestar Galactica vowing that next resurrection day will be different!

Blog Post 3 entitled: In Defense of Lie-ography–Why Writers Should Lie As Often As Possible will post next weekend.

In the meantime, a tidbit from my new advice column, Existentially Yours, featuring Dr. Crabby Ass from the UWTF.

Dating Advice for Hermits and Shy People: Hire an actor to do your dating for you. That way you can just save yourself for the important parts!

Happy Easter/Spring from
Laughing Coyote Productions

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