Headline of the Day

"Man Gets 4 Years in Fatal Fire"

I would have thought a couple of minutes at most would kill him. 4 years in a raging inferno sounds excessive. I mean, what did this guy DO?

The Door

Dry waterfalls,
raw red stone exposed
in the center is a door
of white sunshine and
too much space

The air whistles all the time

Strange

I find it strange that nobody comments on any entries except Mr. Fox and Rabbit. Strange.

Mr. Fox and Rabbit - Part 25

“Where were we…” said the Sorceress. “You are here to defend me from … the Ferengi … who is in high orbit … in some ship or other … and somehow this piss moat helps.”
Dr. Bear nudged Mr. Fox. “And the microscope.”
“Yes, electron microscope,” smiled Mr. Fox. “We need the Electron Microscope to find… hum…”
“Shannon?” said the Sorceress, thoughtful.
“Yeah.”
“Why, again?”
“Because once we find her on the map we will know where we are and where we are headed.”
“Couldn’t you use a magical concept called an address?” said the Sorceress, dry as a glass of vodka without the vermouth.
“She is trying to curse us!” boomed Dr. Bear in a nearly silent whisper. “She is speaking magickal words!”
“No doubt, no doubt.”
The Sorceress swiveled her head until it faced the stain on the floor. “Is your … uhm … companion DEAD?”
“Rabbit…?”
“Yes, I suppose.”
“No. He just exploded so he could attempt to mate with a gaseous anomaly,” mentioned Dr. Bear the crux of the matter.
“What gaseous anomaly?”
Mr. Fox pointed at a blue and red cloud attempting to get away from a suspiciously familiar white puff of gas with glowing red dots where the ‘eyes’ should have been. There was also a long, rigid white
“WAND,” said the Sorceress, fixing the cloud with a baleful eye and completing/cutting the description off in the geometric centre. “Will he stay in gaseous form?”
“Well, as long as Rachel puts out…” Mr. Fox trailed off and cringed. “I am so going to get cursed for this.”
“HIBISCUS SEMPER FIDELIS!” chanted the Sorceress, and suddenly a device of staggering complexity appeared next to a field house of succulent brie. “Behold: the Microscope of Yore.”
In the meantime, Rachel floated to the edge of the moat, pursued by the amorous gasRabbit. The Sorceress summoned a bolt action shot gun from the thin air and leveled the barrel at the floating bunny’s head. “You have 20 seconds to comply now you only have five kaboom,” she chanted in an unbroken monotone, fired, and Rabbit, solid again, fell on his ass.
“That was some solid lead,” he said.
“Solid enough, looks like,” said the Sorceress. “Get lost.”
“Okay… what about my wish?” said Dr. Bear.
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” said the Sorceress. She reached into a magickal box and tossed over a heart made of cheese. “Here.”
Dr. Bear stared at it, weeping with gratitude, then ate it. “Tastee…” he mumbled.
“Will we ever see you again?” said Dr. Bear with superstitious fear.
“Not bloody likely,” said the Sorceress. “First of all… By the Egg, I don’t even know where to begin. First find Shannon. I estimate you only have 3243292342934820 microbes to examine before you find her on that map.”
“I underestimated the power of the dark side,” said Mr. Fox. “That would take too long,” he bit into the microscope, taking out a healthy chunk with his incisors.

This is my Thanksgiving Post Because It's Thanksgiving

Merely funny stuff is not bloody good enough for this blog. It has to be autobiographical funny stuff, metaphorical insanity involving anthropomorphic symbols of the voices in my head, or pictures that have some kind of a special significance to my increasingly overheating brain. Writing every single day is making me think too much. I am starting to comprehend the reason for all those alcoholic writers; they just want the thoughts to stop for a while. Also, my eyes are popping out of my head; staring at a laptop for 10 hours a day is not doing my eyesight any favors.

Note:

"." was the last Mr. Fox and Rabbit episode, EVER. However, Mr. Fox and Rabbit does not take place in linear time. Therefore, I will keep writing Mr. Fox and Rabbit until I get to the second to last episode, which will be titled ";".

The Greatest American Hero was a wonderful show. I loved it. As a 14 year old, I even had a crush on Connie Selecca, who at the time was not yet a withered looking undead creature. There was something incredibly attractive about being a total loser with a superhero suit.

Of course, now I have a different opinion. The main character was NOT a loser; he had a job, a house in a good suburban neighborhood of California, a considerate, intelligent and hot girlfriend, connections with the FBI, an education, white skin, knowledge of English, youth and health.

Because this was NOT ENOUGH, the almighty, working through the agency of some justice obsessed aliens, tosses him a uniform that gives him superpowers.

Grateful as a rabid cat, he loses the instruction manual; not once... but twice. Under incredibly stupid circumstances. For no other reason than to keep the laughtrack going on his imbecilic attempts at flying. I think this will be my only GAH post.

Happy Thanksgiving, Everyone!

When is Thanksgiving?

I thought it was on a thursday in November. Last thursday in November? When is it? I just got an email today (that's Monday) wishing me a happy thanksgiving. Is it Thanksgiving TODAY???
(clutching at bootlaces while slipping into deep crevice) "Help meeeeee......"

Princess Leah Porkana and the Quest for the Platinum Piggy

I found an interactive Piggy Quest:

http://amby.com/reading/quest/2.html

Enjoy!

House of Style

My publisher asked me to rewrite the book to reflect the so called 'house style'. Example: ' for dialogue, "" for speech within dialogue (not the other way around, like in the US). I asked for an exemplar, to see the house style in action - so I got in the mail a printout of a work titled... uhm... 'The Old Perversity Shoppe'.

Beautiful, methinks.

.

“Darkness is coming,” said Mr. Fox.
“I know,” Rabbit shrugged and chewed on a carrot. “It had to come sometime.”
“You don’t seem particularly worried.”
“I am not paid to think.”
Dr. Bear said, “But things are … they are going so well. Aren’t they? We have a Suzuki Samurai. We have cheese coming to us. We have … things.”
Mr. Fox waved his paw dismissively. “Things like that don’t matter.”
Slowly, Rabbit spoke: “When the darkness comes, what will become of me?”
“I don’t know, Rabbit.” Mr. Fox looked up, at the open square of sky overhead, velvety black and so full of stars. “I am the one who has to pull the lid shut.”
They looked at one another, for the last time.
Mr. Fox pulled the lid shut.
And darkness came.

Gnomes

I love Total Whore Gnome. First of all, she is waving at you, presuming your interest in her tawdry wares. Second, she is wearing enough makeup (and fake eyelashes! by God!) to cover up any and all imperfections that may scare away a potential John.

Please, Lord, deliver us from Evil.

Lesbo Debbie wears pink so she won't be confused with Militant Lesbo Debbie. You guessed it: Lesbo Debbie is from a tribe of lipstick lesbian garden gnomes, the kind who wear pink and makeup. Notice, however, that she still refuses to wear a skirt.


Hillbilly Gnome comes with his very own compressed vinyl siding walker, painted wooden brown, stripped from the side of his double-wide. He needs it since he is blind and he has motion sickness ever since that party involving that tempting shot of clear liquid that burned so delishisss...

This is where I live - Part II

There are three other nests on my tree. There is one near the top, close to the sun, and there is one near the bottom, by the thickest branches. Mine is one of the two nests that are near the center of the trunk, comfortably shaded by the thickest part of the canopy. I do not own the tree; nobody can own a tree. The valley has vast, unique green and black worlds, those being the trees that exude magic, and the one with my nest on it has the job of observing the others. I did not build my nest and techically it isn't mine; the tree grew the nest for me, once it had realized my need and my own unique function.

This is where I live

I have a nest on one of the middle branches of the tree on the left. I don't have cable or air conditioning, but there is a sexy pigmy owl who comes by on alternate tuesdays.

I tell time by consulting my Casio timepiece.

The 'tree' in the middle is actually a bug in disguise, sort of like a mantis. I am not afraid of it - we have an understanding involving canned peaches and gold.

Mr. Fox and Rabbit - Part 24

“No shit!” exclaimed Rabbit. “Does she hump?”
“NO,” said the Sorceress. “In fact, it would accrue to your benefit if you just assumed she will dissolve your weewee if you so much as approach her with your zipper open.”
“Jesus.”
“In fact, she is not precisely my familiar.”
“What exactly is she?”
“Hard to define. An unusual entity for sure.”
Mr. Fox coughed and nudged the Sorceress on the left arm, 2.4 inches south of the armpit. Will the Sorceress recognize the special armshake? Will she respond with the customary sibilant hiss? Will she give Mr. Fox the dry chuckle of the Shaenaizei? Will she mention the ancient Indian myth of the Ramajana?
“WHAT?”
“Well… Ugh, our presence here is only in part attributable to our need for an electron microscope.” Said Mr. Fox in a delicate whisper. “Our other reason for being here is to defend you.”
“Defend me. I see. Well, my new pissmoat should be adequate to protect me from just about any threat.” Dry as the desert, the Sorceress chuckled.
(Mr. Fox feverishly etched a checkmark on a black granite slab)
“No, no. The threat that is coming, you cannot defend against it with a mere moat.”
“What kind of a threat are you talking about?”
“I am talking about the … the NOTHING.”
“Is this a blatant ripoff of the Neverending Story?”
“Not precisely. The NOTHING is a 328 mile long starship in high polar orbit. The Ferengi is in charge of it. She intends to populate the Earth with cubicles.”
“I am not sure how to respond to this.”
Rabbit shrieked and exploded.
The Sorceress spoke with a glazed over look of one who has been battered into creative submission. “Well, that is something you don’t see every day.”

The Enemy

Mr. Fox and Rabbit - the Tree

This is the Tree, where Mr. Fox, Rabbit and Dr. Bear live (when they are not questing). The Tree is addicted to sex with I-Pods and enjoys licorice tea.

I am not just some pretty face. I have a brain too.

Booking Photos

Wow. I can tell these are the same girls as the ones below... They don't look like they had a good night. Although, strangely enough, the one on the left is still pretty.

Hot Cheerleaders Caught in Bathroom Lesbian Orgy

TAMPA (Nov. 7, 2005) -- Two Carolina Panthers cheerleaders were arrested at a bar where witnesses told police the women were having sex in a restroom stall, angering patrons waiting in line.
Renee Thomas, 20, of Pittsboro, N.C., and Angela Keathley, 26, of Belmont, N.C., were taken to Hillsborough County Jail early Nov. 6. Witnesses said the women were having sex with each other in a stall at the club in the Channelside district.

This is a true story. I have a couple of comments on this:

1. The 'patrons' was really just one pissed off woman who was waiting in line. She was pissed off for the following reasons:
1. she had had to pee,
2. these women were too hot and they had to be taken down a notch,
3. her would be boyfriend has been drooling over them all night
4. and they had the gall to have sex with one another in a club bathroom, something she never would have had the guts to do.

2. These women are being charged with stuff now and they will never cheer again (except in softcore porn).
What is the likely outcome of this little jaunt? I suspect these chicks will appear in Playboy and Penthouse, get a gigantic book deal, a pictorial in Maxim, and end up dating celebrities, probably ending up in a sordid foursome marriage with Charlie Sheen and his maid.

Persian Chicken with Pomegranates, Pine Nuts, & Grapefruit Yogurt

INGREDIENTS:

1 Whole Chicken, cut into 8 pieces
6 Pomegranates
1 Cup Pine Nuts (or walnuts), toasted and chopped fine
1 Lemon, juiced
2 Tablespoons Honey
1 Teaspoon Cinnamon
1/2 Teaspoon Cumin
1 Sweet Yellow Onion, peeled, cut in half, and sliced thin
3 Tablespoon Vegetable Oil
1 Cup Plain Yogurt
1/2 Grapefruit, juiced
1 Tablespoon Powdered Sugar
4 Cups of Cooked Rice

PREPARATION: Juice five of the pomegranates by cutting them in half and using a citrus reamer or scoop out the seeds and press them through a sieve. Remove the seeds from one pomegranate to use as garnish.
Heat the vegetable oil in a large skillet over high.
Pour off all the oil from the skillet except for one tablespoon. Turn the heat to medium and add the onions. Cook the onions until soft (about 3 to 4 minutes). Add the chopped pine nuts and cook an additional minute. Whisk in the pomegranate juice, lemon juice, honey, cinnamon, and cumin. Add the chicken back to the pan. Bring the mixture to a simmer and continue to cook until chicken is done (about 45 minutes to an hour).
In a small bowl, whisk together the yogurt, powdered sugar, and grapefruit juice. It should have the consistency of mayonnaise.

To Serve:

Place a serving of rice onto each plate. Add the chicken and spoon some of the pomegranate sauce over the rice and chicken. Add a dollop of grapefruit yogurt on top and sprinkle a few pomegranate seeds around the plate. Involve your girlfriend by substituting her flat, naked stomach for a plate. Enjoy!

Ernest Hemingway on Scott Fitzgerald

His talent was as natural as the pattern that was made by the dust on a butterfly's wings. At one time he understood it no more than the butterfly did and he did not know when it was brushed or marred. Later he became conscious of his damaged wings and of their construction and he learned to think and could not fly any more because the love of flight was gone and he could only remember when it had been effortless.

Mr. Fox and Rabbit - Part 23

Dr. Bear, Mr. Fox, and Rabbit all swiveled their heads to gaze upon the eldritch Sorceress. With baited breath they awaited her answer.The ostrich rolled her eyes and raised an extremely long leg, tucking it behind her left wing. “OBVIOUSLY, you can use the LayoutNames design function in a calculation in order to get it... Every ass with a smidgeon of sense knows this.”Dr. Bear intoned in revenant tones, “She is the ONE!”
"Follow me to my demesne, creatures who have come to seek my aid!" intoned the Sorceress.
"Are you sure we should follow her?" thundered Dr. Bear in his customary whisper.
"Sure thing. She's got extremely long legs," leered Rabbit, lost in a haze of lustful images involving climbing and various anatomically impossible ideas.
The walked in under the barbican. Heavy strands of gouda, pressed into nearly solid neutronium in the heart of a red giant formed the bars. More lovestruck homeless manned the ramparts, saluting their lady love with tears, the shaking of paper cups and inarticulate yelling.
"Ughm," said the Sorceress. "Well."
"What are those?" asked Mr. Fox, staring fearfully at the lucite encased body of Isaac Asimov.
"Oh, that is the lucite encased body of Isaac Asimov."
Rabbit suddenly groaned with obvious sexual excitement. "Who is THAT?" pointing at a vague blob of purple with a blue base moving about randomly.
"That is Rachel," said the Sorceress. "My familiar."

I am an Irritant

I hope I did not irritate the hell out of my publisher, the Evil One surfaced from within after receipt of the contract and I went over it provision by provision.

So I wanted the word Blasphemy struck from the clause indemnifying the publisher. Is that really so excessive? I don't think so.

The Sorceress 

Hello SUCKS

Ok, I can't upload pictures anymore to the blog. The instructions on the help page SUCK ASS, and I don't have the patience to read them anyway.

What kind of an ASS invented blogspot so you would have to use separate software to upload pictures anyway? What am I doing wrong?

This was going to be the most exciting PICTURE POST EVER, and now it is ruined forever.

Mr. Fox and Rabbit - Part 22

“How do we find her?”
“Like I said, she has exceptionally long cilia,” Mr. Fox furrowed his nonexistent eyebrows. “What we need here is an electron microscope.”
“I can go back to the 7 Eleven…”
“I don’t think they have any for sale.”
Dr. Bear lowered his eyes in shame. “Sorry…”
“We need to find a research lab.”
“Oh.”
“How?”
“We will consult the Sorceress.”
“This has an ominously quest-like flavor to it.”
“Doesn’t it?”
They drove night and day towards the demesne of the Sorceress. At dusk of the first day, Rabbit pulled the Suzuki Samurai over to the side of the road and hid it behind a decrepit shed.
Mr. Fox walked over to the shed and whispered in its ear, while waving about a Twinkie. “I am Mr. Fox, Decepticon Operative 521e42. We are on a secret mission for Megatron. Hide us for the night and I shall leave you this energon bar.”
The shed said nothing.
“We should be okay here for the night,” said Mr. Fox loudly.
In the morning, they set out. The yellow Twinkie shone in the sun where they left it next to the shed.
At dusk of the second day, Rabbit pulled the Suzuki Samurai over to the side of the road and hid it behind a decrepit nuclear accelerator.
Dr. Bear walked over to the nuclear accelerator and whispered in its ear, while waving about a Twinkie.
“I am Dr. Bear. I like Twinkies. They are tasty.” He grinned at his companions.
“You think that was enough?” asked Rabbit.
“Well, he has not been blown to his component subatomic particles for cheek.”
In the morning, they set out.
At dusk of the third day, Rabbit pulled the Suzuki Samurai over to the side of the road and hid it behind a decrepit Lady Rabbit in Heat.
Rabbit whipped it out and got his groove on. Mr. Fox and Dr. Bear just sat there until dawn, nervously looking out for cops.
“Are we at the Sorceress’ place yet?” asked Dr. Bear nervously.
“Demesne, Dr. Bear. You want to say Demesne.”
Rabbit’s ears revolved clockwise until he caught the right scent. “I smell … CHEESE. We must be close. Prepare yourselves.”
The Sorceress’ Demesne was constructed of Cheese. Four gigantic, microwaveable burritos absorbed any delicious cheese that had melted off the battlements, and otherwise acted as castle towers. Numerous dogs ran around the place, wearing tutus and other drag. Our brave band was forced to come to a stop at the moat.
“Holy shit, is that what I think it is?” said Rabbit.
“What?”
“That moat… I think it’s filled with beer.”
“I shall sacrifice myself … for all of us.” Dr. Bear dove into the moat. For the next three days all they could hear was the slurping and drinking.
“Uhm, well, I am not sure how to say this, Dr. Bear, but now we are faced with a river of piss. It’s a lot more disagreeable obstacle than the moat of beer.”
“Yeah. It’s also bear piss. Foul stuff.”
They stood by the part of the moat that adjoined the gate tower. Suddenly, the barbican was raised up into the block of havarti that formed the stout foundation of this part of the castle. A homeless man marched over to the Suzuki Samurai and began to clean the windshield with an astonishingly filthy rag. “What’ you want wif my lady love?” asked the bum.
“We have come to seek her aid in a matter of life and death,” began Mr. Fox, but Dr. Bear gently pushed him aside. “Bring her and thou shalst have a Dollar!”
The bum scurried off immediately, leaving them to wallow in the scent of 523423 gallons of beer induced bear piss. “Well, it could be worse,” said Rabbit. “In a way, we have improved the defenses of this castle.”
“Yeees – vast improvement. I couldn’t have thought of a better addition to my castle. A piss moat!” exclaimed an attractive ostrich with exceptionally long legs. She rolled her eyes for emphasis.
“You … you are the Sorceress?”
“Obviously the brains of the outfit… I did say MY castle, or is your hearing impaired? With those long floppy ears, that would be unlikely.”
Mr. Fox collected himself. “We have come to beseech your aid, almighty Sorceress. We seek an electron microscope.”
Mr. Fox raised Rabbit’s right ear and softly whispered in it while the small lupine conducted the delicate negotiations with the eldritch creature before them.
“How do you know she has magical powers? Ask her something only she would know.”
“Uhm… Okay. Something completely random. Let’s see now.” Rabbit pursed his lips.
Dr. Bear shrugged and said, “In FileMaker Pro 4.0, I would like to print out the names of all my layouts. I use many different ones and would like to print them out so I can notate when I use them in case someone else has to do my job. I cannot find any way to do this on my own.”
Dr. Bear, Mr. Fox, and Rabbit all swiveled their heads to gaze upon the eldritch Sorceress. With baited breath they awaited her answer.The ostrich rolled her eyes and raised an extremely long leg, tucking it behind her left wing. “OBVIOUSLY, you can use the LayoutNames design function in a calculation in order to get it... Every ass with a smidgeon of sense knows this.”
Dr. Bear intoned in revenant tones, “She is the ONE!”

Royalties

I received my contract from my publisher and it turns out I will be receiving ROYALTIES.

I shall contact my publisher because I do not want some uppity Arch Duke or Prince to rain on my parade. Nossirree. I want some nubile 19 year old princess who liked to wear fuzzy pink sweaters. And her crown, at all times. That would be important, methinks.

Two Stout Lego Men - Part 1

Two Lego figurines at night (the guy that came with the mechanics shop and an astronaut):

“Truman Capote. Somerset Maugham.”
“They depress me.”
“Translations depress me.”
“People don’t live their lives like they want to. They live their lives as if they were reading from a script.”
“You mean their jobs, their school, their wife, their kids?”
“More than that. I mean their entire outlook on life. What passes for their morality. When they are presented with an unusual situation, they don’t make up their own minds about it. Novel situations seemingly demand fallback routines of the sheep, I guess that is what I am trying to say.”
“Rote is safe.”“Safe is boring. Life is short.”