The Amazing Fabio and his fabulous tie collection

My mother was madly in love with a very sad and confused individual for almost a decade. When I say confused, I don’t think you quite understand.He was a white guy.He looked like Fabio. Well, only from the eyebrows up but still, that hair was wavy and fabulous. I was pretty sure he used some hair product but it was hard to tell being that his Armani cologne stole your nasal attention span first. His ties were often too bright for human eyes, usually polka-dots or stained glass designs.He would take a can of diced tomatoes, some old beets, and a packet of ramen noodles, and make the best fucking meal you EVER HAD. He’d whistle the entire time, tossing his hair around. He never kept a job. In less than a decade, I’d bet he had over 400 jobs easily. He would play the hell out of a piano at the black churches for money on the weekends but those job stints didn’t last long either. When asked why he only played for black churches, he’d say “Whites ain’t got any soul.”He was an obsessive evangelical Christian, who also was a psychopath and highly volatile and unstable. The […]

Introduction : Schlitz Beer & Cooters. Buckle up.

It’s hard to say who I owe for inspiring my writing.Is it the folks in the New York City bars with their nice hair cuts and UFO technology cell phones of 2001? As they continued to feed me Mai Tais until my face matched the color of the drink, I would continue my stories just for their amusement. Or maybe it was the friends who constantly brought up the ridiculous events of my youth, and almost pissed their pants laughing. No, they’re still assholes, it wasn’t them.Whatever inspired it, be glad it was inspired. The universe weaves the tales, and I am merely your interpreter. Not only am I an interpreter, I also am literate and have all of my teeth. You’ve hit the jackpot for North Carolina backwoods pickin’s.COOTERSThe dictionary term for Cooter reads: S: (n) cooter”Large river turtle of the southern United States and northern Mexico.”To you, cooter means something completely different I’m willing to bet. Not only is it an outdated term for the turtle, it’s slang for a woman’s vag. Can you imagine my confusion when I used the term “Cooter” outside of my family? But I can’t let it go. What a great word. […]


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Who the Hell is Sheena?
Sheena is the name my mom gave me when she heard Sheena Easton's "Morning Train" in 1981. My dad could never say it or remember it, so my sister still calls me "Sheiler" because that's what he called me. I write, I sing, I paint, and more importantly, I'm good at making people laugh. This blog was started in hopes to find the twisted readers who would love what I do, and share with others.
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