“The literary equivalent of a summer night, a good friend and a gin-and-tonic: Shannon is a deft writer; a natural storyteller with a wicked turn of phrase and frighteningly specific memory...”

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Go The F#%k Back To School!

Here are the cretinous techno-monsters! They’re still here. In their bedrooms. In their pajamas. Beds unmade. Toys strewn. They’re bored. They’re addicted to technology. Their eyes glaze over, their jaws slacken, they drool and twitch spasmodically as they play the Wii, watch the Disney Channel with

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When The Drug Dealers Moved In Next Door

My grade schoolers now know this, “If you illegally sell marijuana the cops’ll bust you and throw you in the slammer where they’ll make you get tattoos of Voldemort on your corneas. Also, pot makes you stupid. And don’t ever smoke it

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I Don’t Want to Grow Up

One of my daughters wakes up crying and goes to sleep crying. My other daughter wakes up happy and goes to sleep happy. According to a report by John Stossel on 20/20it’s a simple matter of brain chemistry. Some people

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Show Me The Way To Go Home aka Hawaii Big Island

“Show me the way to go home, I’m tired and I wanna go to bed. Had me a drink about an hour ago and it went right to my head. Wherever I may roam, Oe’r land or sea or foam,

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The Kayak Trip to Hell and Starbucks

Why do OLD PARENTS think they can do a lot of stuff? Meaning me and Henry. Because we decided to take the girls down to Long Beach for a kayak trip in the canals. Fun! For YOUNG PARENTS. The young ones, just

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Kids On Vacation

A Colleary Christmas –  2009 Cast of Characters: S – Shannon (44): Fairly well-preserved wife/mother/writer/controversial AYSO soccer referee and pseudo intellectual. Prone to occasional bouts of grandiosity. H – Henry (49): Almost as well-preserved-if-he’d-just-exfoliate husband/father/writer/Lord of Darkness and daughters’ luchadore nemesis. Prone to occasional

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I Might Be A Murderer

“I might be a murderer, a pedophile, a miscreant! How do you know your bones ain’t gonna be picked clean by birds of carrion nigh these next two weeks?” Homer and the little Heroines. These were the words that rang

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I am Hubbell

Great Scott that man was gorgeous! Do you remember that scene in The Way We Were? It’s the one where Barbra Streisand calls Hubbell because they’re broken up and even though she’s really depressed and verklempt her fingernails are stills

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Screwed by the Spring Sing

When I come in from work today I find Bridget flung across her bed scribbling furiously on a yellow legal pad. She’s using a thick, black Sharpie. Her handwriting is frenetic, disturbed. I can distinguish the words “mommy” and “jerk.” I’ve just been

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Mommy Flirting

Mom Flirting with the Brit and the German I flirt with moms more than men these days.  And not because I’m a lesbian, though that might’ve saved me some heartache in my 20s (but that’s another story).  I flirt with

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