Death to a horse

Source: Wikimedia Commons

Did you know that a horse can’t vomit? If a horse gets sick, it’s game over. 

Each weekend when you pick up your first drink, you agree to accept vomiting as the outcome. You know the likelihood that you will drink to excess and end up puking on the sidewalk as you bar hop with your pals. 

Meanwhile, that poor horse is sober. Involuntarily. He knows it will mean certain death if he reaches for beer #2. 

As for me, before I take any action, I ask myself: Are you OK with dying while engaged in this activity? That’s my criteria. I don’t want “Died on the teacups at Disney” engraved on my tombstone. My epitaph doesn’t have to be grand or dramatic. My last activity just has to be something I enjoy and would be proud to die while doing. 

“Entombed here while still seated at her beloved desk is Angie, who died writing a blog post.”

Now that’s the way to go out.

I’m Angie

Residing in the New York metropolitan area, I spend much of my free time writing. I graduated from Seattle University and regularly return to Gotham Writers Workshop to keep my skills sharp.

Typically writing at the intersection of memoir and humor, I am currently refining several manuscripts that fall into the graphic novel, crime, and science fiction categories.

My goal with this blog is to offer readers a five-minute break from the monotony and stress of everyday life. Success for me is making you smile or laugh.

If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a cup of coffee to fuel my next piece. 

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