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The Life & Times of Poopsie, Muma's Pen
The Life & Times of Poopsie, Muma's Pen
The Life & Times of Poopsie, Muma's Pen
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The Life & Times of Poopsie, Muma's Pen

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The Life & Times of Poopsie, Muma's Pen is an animation - come to life, of a dear sweet woman whose pen comes alive! It is a comedy of lovable motherly pangs towards her insincere but adorable little pen.

The muma loves to write. Her pen, who has come alive, is sickeninly (but most lovingly) proud of his most special (7 year old) self. He is a boy...and he'd never know he was made of the pen-family, and so... All the precious antics that go along with a 7 y.o. and a muma (who has held him her whole life), who writes - to fill in the gaps of her unmarried, overweight, lonesome (paranoid) life - come into play... as a comedy, unfortunately. You'd never know it; for she lies and lies and life (to herself) about thus; sometimes sounding like Marilyn Monroe - who hasn't dated for years.

You can imagine the imaginings of the episodes she gets into, or gets Poopsie out of. Either Poopsie and his little hearts view of the world, his feelings, or a trauma/tragedy/event that has happened to him. Otherwise, the tale could be about the muma - of reputable, self-indulgent flame for her own very motherly feelings or reactions to the world or her Poopsie, and/or anything that involves itself with our business.

Oh yes, he is 7 y.o., but at times thinks himself an elderly, worldly frenchman (a roughly 49 y.o. Maurice Chevalier, is what it is).

The Life & Times of Poopsie, Muma's Pen is written in either one-page little episodes or tritely brilliant lengthier tales. All, most sweet and enjoyable. All for adults - of all ages.

The continuing tales of Poopsie and his friends will be forthcoming in extended books. It is guaranteed in the last tale of this first book, called 'A Poopsie Tale'. The muma performs a transformation. Its all very halloweeny, but don't be distressed the muma can never change; for, she is me! [A-hem...] The title!

Side Note (and most needed fictional input): I have nothing in common with dis muma, except that I am unmarried.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherAuthorHouse
Release dateSep 20, 2013
ISBN9781491811863
The Life & Times of Poopsie, Muma's Pen
Author

Blue North

I am a homemaker, homebody who enjoys the classics, in movies and books; and that is why I have chosen to write stories with disney flare, but strictly for adults. I feel the need for this in the world of today, and enjoy the pursuit.

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    Book preview

    The Life & Times of Poopsie, Muma's Pen - Blue North

    The Life & Times

    of

    Poopsie, Muma’s Pen

    Blue North

    26993.png

    AuthorHouse™ LLC

    1663 Liberty Drive

    Bloomington, IN 47403

    www.authorhouse.com

    Phone: 1-800-839-8640

    © 2013 by Blue North. All rights reserved.

    No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

    Published by AuthorHouse 09/18/2013

    ISBN: 978-1-4918-1187-0 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-4918-1186-3 (e)

    Library of Congress Control Number: 2013915603

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    Contents

    The Life and Times of Poopsie, Muma’s Pen

    Desired Wishes

    At the Table

    Part Deux

    My Insincere Little Babe

    The No-No Room

    Da Bank

    Mama’s Purse

    Mrs… . aaah

    To All His Friends

    Next Page

    5 & 10

    Here! (Get it)

    Secrets (Oops!)

    Torture

    Egotistical

    Mothers Revolt

    Name Calling

    Sex!?!

    His Own Enjoyment

    ! ? !

    The Never-Ending Farce

    That’s That

    (Ugh!)

    The Mouth

    Post Script:

    The Goods

    Funny Thing

    The World

    Scotch Tape

    Shhhhh!

    A Muma Joke

    —Nobody—

    A Day in H___

    Apple Cheeks

    A Poopsie Tale

    Sign Off Page

    This is dedicated to ME. And all the support I got from guts, bravado & machismo that it took to keep pushing that pen and pushing it and pushing it (till my hand fell off, darn near).

    I want to also thank all the candy (the chewy, flavored kind), cigarettes & tea that went along for the ride to make this vehicle for what it is: a soft burnt orange to fading beige rusted ’74 station wagon. No. Just kidding. fool

    An obnoxiously fluorescent but magnificent pink Cadillac. fool

    THE LIFE AND TIMES OF POOPSIE, MUMA’S PEN

    Swoop in at a writer’s desk where a dear, sweet woman is continuing her life’s work.

    Closer. Closer. There. You are so close that you are at her pen-point; her dark, beautiful, very expensive pen.

    What? A face pops up at the top of the pen shape, and oh-so-majically happily smiles at you. You’ve noticed him! He winks, happy as could be. For—now—you have made him come alive! Majical.

    It is he, and his world that he is only concerned with.—

    The dear and sweet writer continues her work, and this is when he, the face in the pen pops out and onto the desk—in a silhouette shadow, sort of duplicate of himself. From this beautifully black-hued pen jumps out a form… the body of a pen, but… Oh! It can’t be? He seems to be dressed… he seems to exude… he seems to… to… Well, I’m just gonna say it: he seems to express (the imitation of) a frenchman; a dignified elderly, dressed to the nines—frenchman. (I dunno!)

    [No-big-deal-Note: he’s wearing a tuxedo tee-shirt. Okayy.]

    Oh, he’s happy now. Happy as can be. Happy as a lark that he’s got his freedom and, it seems—all to the sneaky misknowledge of the writer herself. (I think?)

    Well, he runs to his freedom; this insincere, most immature pen.

    Running to the edge of the desk; he’s at the edge of the desk and [strangely] (just like a pirate!?) yells, Aaagghhh! and jumps off, making a V-formation with his legs onto the ground below, to go off and play.

    The writer is left with just the shell of a pen, but why should she care? As long as she can continue to write, she’s a-okay.

    Incidentally, the pen she is holding has just, clumsily slipped out of the writer’s hand and onto the floor. She goes to pick it up and sees this shadow figure of her self-same pen. (This is so cute!):

    Pen:

    Madame!

    (Dare I divulge the data?)

    Pen is standing upright on the floor and (with his tiny little self) he looks intently at this writer, thinking himself (I kid you not): a grown man! A roughly, 49 year old Maurice Chevalier, to be specific. But that’s neither here nor there.

    Its just that (oh no!), with his M. Chevalier outfit on [tuxedo tee-shirt] and M. Chevalier plastic imitation shoes [Hey! Whatevver majical mystery thinks up of itself… is whateever it shall appear]—he was most seriously standing in an angered stance of his arms bent, clutching his waist (in anger), and his legs in a V-shape, most poignantly:

    Pen:

    Madame. Can you hear me?

    Muma:

    Why, yes, sweetums.

    Pen:

    Good. Let me tell you. I am every inch a frenchman! I am a grown man. I am—how de zay? Szuave, no? Don’t I look it? Do I? Huh?

    Muma:

    Yees. Quickly agreeing to his unsure psyche.

    Pen:

    Den, mama*, you gotta admit…

    Muma:

    Huh! You called me ’muma’! Poopsie**!?! Come here. Right now. And she tried to pick him up. Wherein, he jumped his squirty little self underneath the desk to sure safety—from kisses.

    * He knew to call her ’mama’ the moment she came near him, for she has held him his whoole life; and now that the majical moment of mystery has come to fruition, and the muma now has her—own pen—appearing to her [outright… or is that—as ’objec dart’?], well… he just knew… he just knew—who—in the universe to call ‘his mama’. Yep.

    * * A ‘star’ is born, at the first inkling—to call him such a ‘pet name’!

    The muma is ecstatic that this ‘mystery’ has appeared; this new arrival to her life and unforeseen mountain of joy—of a cherished other, a loved one, if you will, who will be sharing the muma’a life, and fully. You must realize that this character, of loveability does come from his own world; fully set, with all of his established unique character that he be. And share in this [presto/whammo] we will, immediate-like, and ever shall…

    But, far be it for me to overshadow and throw the attention away from ‘he’, who is… mmmmh…

    Pen:

    Star-a-da-show! Dats right. Yeaaah.

    Hey! I’m Poopsie. Dey call me Poopsie. Jus’ call me Poopsie. Clasps his hands in questioning direction. "O-K. Now…

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