Okay, so I'm not a nice person. Everyone knows that. At the most, I am also not exactly coherent. I just woke up after my first bit of sleep in three days. I've had way too much to do and not enough time to do it.
At any rate, there are lots of bars in my town. It wouldn't be a normal American town if there weren't. The biggest bar in town is called the Mill. The Mill is a fun place, with loud music and *special events* like wet T-shirt contests and other sexist extremes. The last was jello-wresting. The manager of the Mill, who is an acquaintance of mine, said that once is enough. After scraping dried jello off the dance floor for two months, he's fairly well-convinced that he will NEVER have another jello wrestling contest.
However.....
The other night I was tending bar and the usual late-night bored single males came in. These are the guys who are forever on the quest for women, don't care WHAT they have to do to get them, and despite small obstaclez like personal hygiene and complete ugliness, are always optimistic of 'gettin' laid.' They asked me if I knew what was going on at the Mill.
I told them it was mashed potato wrestling.
After the guys took off, full of culinary glee and excitement, the others in the bar (who now could laugh freely) and I discussed the ramifications of masked potato wrestling.
First off, what would you do with the condiments? Would grated cheese, sour cream, and bacon bits be offered as projectile weapons?
Second, which would be easier: lots and lots of Hungry Jack boxes or fresh potatoes? And if they were fresh, how would you mash a kiddie pool full of them? Would it be like stomping grapes for wine? Would you need butter and milk? What consistency would be best for mashed potato wrestling? Soupy or fluffy? We went for soupy and Hungry Jack. No one wanted to think about mashing a kiddie pool of potatoes with their feet.
For the matter, what should mashed potato wrestlers wear? One piece or two-piece? T-shirts and shorts?
(Allow me to interject an ewwwwwww here) The vote was for bikinis. I pointed out that guy mashed potato wrestling would probably be more interesting, but the bar regulars didn't seem wrapped up in that.
So, if any of you ever wondered what I do with my creativity while I'm working in the *real* world, let this be a lesson to you: not only do I take my laptop to write during the (rare) slow periods, but I lead intellectual discussions with the creme de la creme of Lancaster bar society. The vicious circle of Dorothy Parker? Child's play! Nothing competes with the Fariview Culinary Misdirection Society!
*phone rings*
"Celina?"
"Yes?"
"This is Dusty. What in the hell are you doing telling people we are having mashed potato wrestling here tonight?"
Some people just can't keep up. It's no less than an intellectual travesty.
Saturday, December 02, 2006
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Progress
Whew! I'm finally making progress on a whole bunch of projects. My writing time has increased from an hour a day tops back up to five, so I'll be cranking out some serious words over the next few weeks. Of course, that's going to be tempered by a novel I have coming out in January.
"The Reckoning of Asphodel" is set to be released at the end of January by Aspen Mountain Press. I'm very excited about it, but I'm also kind of apprehensive. I know how to blast the publicity route for book promotion, but I'm not really sure how to throw this over the top. Obviously, people have to hear about the book before they'll be tempted to buy it.
(Please buy it)
If it goes well, then I have a home for the other seven books in the series. If it doesn't go well, er....I'm sort of screwed.
So, soon I'll figure out my promotional plan and then I'll hope for the maturity to stick to it. So far, that hasn't exactly worked but hope springs eternal. Maybe I'll actually do it this time.
(waits for the snorts of laughter to subside)
"The Reckoning of Asphodel" is set to be released at the end of January by Aspen Mountain Press. I'm very excited about it, but I'm also kind of apprehensive. I know how to blast the publicity route for book promotion, but I'm not really sure how to throw this over the top. Obviously, people have to hear about the book before they'll be tempted to buy it.
(Please buy it)
If it goes well, then I have a home for the other seven books in the series. If it doesn't go well, er....I'm sort of screwed.
So, soon I'll figure out my promotional plan and then I'll hope for the maturity to stick to it. So far, that hasn't exactly worked but hope springs eternal. Maybe I'll actually do it this time.
(waits for the snorts of laughter to subside)
Thursday, November 16, 2006
The DD Holiday Project
Okay, rants aside--
I've come up with a holiday project that some of you might like to help out with. I have a friend from my writing critique group that is currently stationed in the Middle East. He's stuck there with only three or four books, and only has access to romance novels. Granted, there's nothing WRONG with romance novels (says the porn hack) but I don't think a bodice-ripper is what most military folk want to read.
SO--hence "The Idea"
I've suggested that our writing group send our buddy a couple or three used fantasy or sci-fi books. Since they're used, he can leave them there when he's redeployed and other soldiers can enjoy them as well. Allow me to extend the same offer to you guys who aren't in my writing group--email me privately and I'll spill the details.
Let's make someone's Christmas better who's far from home and in a dangerous situation! As a person with 6k+ books in her library...and living room...and bedroom....and precarious stacks in the hall....and under the kitchen table...AHEM!...I can certainly spare a few to give someone else an escape from their own particular reality.
Call it my good deed for the year. Ho. Ho. Ho.
I've come up with a holiday project that some of you might like to help out with. I have a friend from my writing critique group that is currently stationed in the Middle East. He's stuck there with only three or four books, and only has access to romance novels. Granted, there's nothing WRONG with romance novels (says the porn hack) but I don't think a bodice-ripper is what most military folk want to read.
SO--hence "The Idea"
I've suggested that our writing group send our buddy a couple or three used fantasy or sci-fi books. Since they're used, he can leave them there when he's redeployed and other soldiers can enjoy them as well. Allow me to extend the same offer to you guys who aren't in my writing group--email me privately and I'll spill the details.
Let's make someone's Christmas better who's far from home and in a dangerous situation! As a person with 6k+ books in her library...and living room...and bedroom....and precarious stacks in the hall....and under the kitchen table...AHEM!...I can certainly spare a few to give someone else an escape from their own particular reality.
Call it my good deed for the year. Ho. Ho. Ho.
Cyber Sniping Punks and the Consequences
I'm so tired of snipers.
Boy is it ever so easy to leave snide-ass little comments from the relative safety of cyber-land. This week has been particularly foul, with little barbs left for me all over the web--my websites, on boards, even here. Let me explain my new policy on cyber-snipers for you all so that there are no misunderstandings.
First, if you're going to start a war be sure you've got enough ammunition. I hate beating up on the helpless--it gives a girl a bad reputation--kind of like clubbing baby seals. If you consider your stockpile and come to the conclusion that it might be little short, take my advice: don't start anything.
Second, a hypocrite's hat is comfortable for some. If you wear one around me, be prepared for me to knock it off. Hypocrisy is the last resort of the weak. Try to avoid it. If everything you say is snide, then you're not a friend. Don't cower behind that title--that is hypocrisy.
Third, you will not catch me in a good mood for at least two months. With five different projects coming out in the first three months of 2007 I don't have time for petty little bullshit.
Fourth, if you can deal with the consequences, bring it on. In other words, no whining. I'm tired of giving people my opinion and then having them whine about it. If you can't deal with what I think, then don't put it out there.
Now then, in direct response to all the smartass comments I found over the past week:
1)--hate email from the sexist pig--NO, I am not a man-hater. I am merely convinced of my own innate superiority over people who think that testicles is a mark of merit...like you
2)--another 'you're going to hell' comment --Thank you very much, but I think I'll leave the decisions of my ultimate disposition in the hands of whatever higher being there is, rather than allowing you to consign me to hell.
3)--my brother-If it makes any difference, your opinion of my writing doesn't really matter to me. I get PAID to write, beotch. I didn't have to buy my term papers, thank you very much.
4)--member of my crit group--You know, I realize that it is the mark of the very young to makes themselves feel better by running someone else down. Unfortunately, it would be difficult for you to do that--you have a hard enough time accepting honest criticism as it is. And, as far as that goes, anyone who worries more about the glory and less about the project hasn't got their priorities straight.
5)--random website poster--cut it out, shit for brains. I know who you are. You don't amuse me, you mental midget.
Anyone else want to play???? Consider yourself duly warned.
Boy is it ever so easy to leave snide-ass little comments from the relative safety of cyber-land. This week has been particularly foul, with little barbs left for me all over the web--my websites, on boards, even here. Let me explain my new policy on cyber-snipers for you all so that there are no misunderstandings.
First, if you're going to start a war be sure you've got enough ammunition. I hate beating up on the helpless--it gives a girl a bad reputation--kind of like clubbing baby seals. If you consider your stockpile and come to the conclusion that it might be little short, take my advice: don't start anything.
Second, a hypocrite's hat is comfortable for some. If you wear one around me, be prepared for me to knock it off. Hypocrisy is the last resort of the weak. Try to avoid it. If everything you say is snide, then you're not a friend. Don't cower behind that title--that is hypocrisy.
Third, you will not catch me in a good mood for at least two months. With five different projects coming out in the first three months of 2007 I don't have time for petty little bullshit.
Fourth, if you can deal with the consequences, bring it on. In other words, no whining. I'm tired of giving people my opinion and then having them whine about it. If you can't deal with what I think, then don't put it out there.
Now then, in direct response to all the smartass comments I found over the past week:
1)--hate email from the sexist pig--NO, I am not a man-hater. I am merely convinced of my own innate superiority over people who think that testicles is a mark of merit...like you
2)--another 'you're going to hell' comment --Thank you very much, but I think I'll leave the decisions of my ultimate disposition in the hands of whatever higher being there is, rather than allowing you to consign me to hell.
3)--my brother-If it makes any difference, your opinion of my writing doesn't really matter to me. I get PAID to write, beotch. I didn't have to buy my term papers, thank you very much.
4)--member of my crit group--You know, I realize that it is the mark of the very young to makes themselves feel better by running someone else down. Unfortunately, it would be difficult for you to do that--you have a hard enough time accepting honest criticism as it is. And, as far as that goes, anyone who worries more about the glory and less about the project hasn't got their priorities straight.
5)--random website poster--cut it out, shit for brains. I know who you are. You don't amuse me, you mental midget.
Anyone else want to play???? Consider yourself duly warned.
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Regardless
--is a word. Irregardless is not. Despite the overwhelming compulsion around these here parts to start off ponderous sentences with the phrase, "Irregardless of how you feel--" it is STILL not a word.
Think I'm annoyed? I am. I had an editor reject a short story of mine today with the phrase *irregardless of the fine quality of your writing style...*
So tell me, pig, exactly HOW did you become an editor anyway? Hmmmm? It certainly didn't evolve from your stellar grades in post-graduate English studies, did it? Regardless of your pedigree, you obviously are misemployed.
Hmmph.
So the new house deal is SLOWLY creeping to a conclusion -- allegedly.
I'll beleive it when I see it. All I see right now is LOTS of boxes. Oh, and very active cats. Did you know that, regardless of how you try, you can't prevent a cat from trying to see what's inside a closed and sealed box?
More interesting news--my daughter broke up with her psycho-pig boyfriend this weekend THANK GOD. Regardless of the fact that he called her cell phone NINETY times in TWELVE hours this weekend to harass her, she decided that a long-distance relationship with a psychotic stalker boyfriend was an undesirable thing at the moment.
Thank you, gods. I might have to light a fire or two to celebrate, regardless of the forest fire woes ongoing in other, less damp parts of the country.
And then, regardless of what anyone else says, my mother-in-law is extremely annoying.
Get the point? Irregardless of whether you do or not, I did. *grin*
Think I'm annoyed? I am. I had an editor reject a short story of mine today with the phrase *irregardless of the fine quality of your writing style...*
So tell me, pig, exactly HOW did you become an editor anyway? Hmmmm? It certainly didn't evolve from your stellar grades in post-graduate English studies, did it? Regardless of your pedigree, you obviously are misemployed.
Hmmph.
So the new house deal is SLOWLY creeping to a conclusion -- allegedly.
I'll beleive it when I see it. All I see right now is LOTS of boxes. Oh, and very active cats. Did you know that, regardless of how you try, you can't prevent a cat from trying to see what's inside a closed and sealed box?
More interesting news--my daughter broke up with her psycho-pig boyfriend this weekend THANK GOD. Regardless of the fact that he called her cell phone NINETY times in TWELVE hours this weekend to harass her, she decided that a long-distance relationship with a psychotic stalker boyfriend was an undesirable thing at the moment.
Thank you, gods. I might have to light a fire or two to celebrate, regardless of the forest fire woes ongoing in other, less damp parts of the country.
And then, regardless of what anyone else says, my mother-in-law is extremely annoying.
Get the point? Irregardless of whether you do or not, I did. *grin*
Sunday, November 12, 2006
Angst and Drama
For those of you who don't have teenaged daughters, let me enlighten you to a few pertinent facts.
First off, everything goes on hold when she's breaking up with her boyfriend. This includes school, moving, and social life.
Secondly, there's nothing unusual about getting 85 calls on her cell phone in 12 hours--ALL FROM AFORESAID FORMER BOYFRIEND.
Third, it's nearly impossible to hope for some sort of restraint upon her mouth at any given time.
*sigh*
The tragedy!
Romeo and Juliet is one of my least favorite Shakespeare plays, mostly because I could never relate to it. Shall we say I now have an interesting character study stomping around in her room upstairs.
Lovely.
First off, everything goes on hold when she's breaking up with her boyfriend. This includes school, moving, and social life.
Secondly, there's nothing unusual about getting 85 calls on her cell phone in 12 hours--ALL FROM AFORESAID FORMER BOYFRIEND.
Third, it's nearly impossible to hope for some sort of restraint upon her mouth at any given time.
*sigh*
The tragedy!
Romeo and Juliet is one of my least favorite Shakespeare plays, mostly because I could never relate to it. Shall we say I now have an interesting character study stomping around in her room upstairs.
Lovely.
Friday, November 03, 2006
Totally Nuts
That pretty much describes my world right now. I have so much going on that I can't get anything done. I wake up every morning with an ambitious list of things to get done that day and by the end of the day everything is done half-ass--not well at all. It totally--TOTALLY sucks.
Once upon a time, I was an organizational goddess. I'm serious. I could sit down in the morning and crank out my 15-20k per day before cooking dinner and straightening my house. Now?
I'm lucky to FIND my damn computer.
I'm hoping that things will settle down soon (and I'll get moved into my new house while negotiating the current saturation of high school daughter angst in my home) and I'll be able to meet my deadlines.
Yeah, right.
In other news, I've been on a rejection roll lately. *sigh* The only thing that hasn't been rejected in the past few weeks is my stupid Master Card.
Okay, I'm starting on a new leaf today. I'll get back to my faithful blogging habit and jerk my schedule back onto track if it KILLS me (and it probably will). At that point, I might be able to polish off the COUNT THEM-- one two three four FIVE deadlines I have coming up in the next -- COUNT THIS TOO -- 15 days.
*sigh*
Screw it. I'm having a beer. Later.
Once upon a time, I was an organizational goddess. I'm serious. I could sit down in the morning and crank out my 15-20k per day before cooking dinner and straightening my house. Now?
I'm lucky to FIND my damn computer.
I'm hoping that things will settle down soon (and I'll get moved into my new house while negotiating the current saturation of high school daughter angst in my home) and I'll be able to meet my deadlines.
Yeah, right.
In other news, I've been on a rejection roll lately. *sigh* The only thing that hasn't been rejected in the past few weeks is my stupid Master Card.
Okay, I'm starting on a new leaf today. I'll get back to my faithful blogging habit and jerk my schedule back onto track if it KILLS me (and it probably will). At that point, I might be able to polish off the COUNT THEM-- one two three four FIVE deadlines I have coming up in the next -- COUNT THIS TOO -- 15 days.
*sigh*
Screw it. I'm having a beer. Later.
Monday, October 23, 2006
Vacation? What vacation?
Yes. Allegedly I took a vacation. Want to hear about it? Only I could take a vacation that was so vastly ... well... NOT a vacation.
To start off with, we decided to go to the mountains. I love taking my annual fall pilgrimage to the Smokies. Since last Monday was my birthday *sob, weep* we drove down through West Virginia and Virginia to the eastern border of Tennessee where we'd rented a cabin for a few days in the Smoky Mountains National Park. The drive was gorgeous--the leaves were in peak color, and even though the weather was rainy and a little chilly we didn't really care.
Yep. You guessed it. Hot tub. How else was I supposed to recover from the carnies?
So, we stocked up on wine and snack treats and settled into the hot tub for a relaxing evening, completely unfazed by the high wind advisories posted for the mountains. After all, usually those things were meant for the peaks and not the comfortable valleys of Gatlinburg, right?
WRONG.
Can you say 106 mph winds---sustained --- for about six hours? How about no power for three days? How about hot tub becomes cold tank of water? Ever hear a tree fall on top of a tin roof? Not a pleasant sound, particularly when you're trying to scramble down a tight circular stairway into the lower level clutching a bottle of Moet Chandon White Star and a relish tray of crab and shrimp. *sigh* There was precious little sleep---or anything else --- that night. Happy birthday to me. Of course, it was rather invigorating drinking 45 dollar a bottle champagne straight from the bottle in the pitch dark while listening to what we christened *Hurricane Carnie* bashing against the rocks outside.
It was their REVENGE I tell you--Revenge of the Carnies~! Not content with ruining my week before, they sent some lowlife, carnival barker-instigated voodoo curse after me! Wanna know how I know?
When we emerged into the dawn of the next morning, there wasn't a single damn leaf left.
*sigh*
Damn those carnies anyway.
To start off with, we decided to go to the mountains. I love taking my annual fall pilgrimage to the Smokies. Since last Monday was my birthday *sob, weep* we drove down through West Virginia and Virginia to the eastern border of Tennessee where we'd rented a cabin for a few days in the Smoky Mountains National Park. The drive was gorgeous--the leaves were in peak color, and even though the weather was rainy and a little chilly we didn't really care.
Yep. You guessed it. Hot tub. How else was I supposed to recover from the carnies?
So, we stocked up on wine and snack treats and settled into the hot tub for a relaxing evening, completely unfazed by the high wind advisories posted for the mountains. After all, usually those things were meant for the peaks and not the comfortable valleys of Gatlinburg, right?
WRONG.
Can you say 106 mph winds---sustained --- for about six hours? How about no power for three days? How about hot tub becomes cold tank of water? Ever hear a tree fall on top of a tin roof? Not a pleasant sound, particularly when you're trying to scramble down a tight circular stairway into the lower level clutching a bottle of Moet Chandon White Star and a relish tray of crab and shrimp. *sigh* There was precious little sleep---or anything else --- that night. Happy birthday to me. Of course, it was rather invigorating drinking 45 dollar a bottle champagne straight from the bottle in the pitch dark while listening to what we christened *Hurricane Carnie* bashing against the rocks outside.
It was their REVENGE I tell you--Revenge of the Carnies~! Not content with ruining my week before, they sent some lowlife, carnival barker-instigated voodoo curse after me! Wanna know how I know?
When we emerged into the dawn of the next morning, there wasn't a single damn leaf left.
*sigh*
Damn those carnies anyway.
Friday, October 13, 2006
And the word for the day is....
Paraskevidekatriaphobics.
Three days and counting until the fair is over. At the moment, the score is carnies: 489; mscelina: 2.
It was freaking cold last night--less than 30 degrees farenheit by the time the fair closed so there were LOTS of people in the bar. it wasn't until I started to count down my cash register that I realized it was Friday the 13th. Could there be a more appropriate day? Not in my world. After all, despite my avowed skepticism on the validity of Friday the 13th being bad luck, so far in my lifetime the only thing unlucky about Friday the 13th has been a string of execrable movies bearing that phrase in the title.
*looks around for a dude in a hockey mask*
At any rate, suffice it to say that the only unlucky thing about the day so far is the temperature. I'm the kind of person who likes to ease into cold. The day before yesterday, I spent a good hour in the basement of my new house while the tornado sirens went off. Today? Flurries.
NO FAIR!
All I have to do is make it through this weekend, and then on Monday I find myself in the Smokies sitting in a hot tub, drinking beer and watching leaves fall for a week. Not a bad birthday present overall. I already scheduled a horseback ride up Clingman's Dome for Tuesday, at which point the hot tub will become a medical necessity. It's been at least four years since I was well enough to ride, so I anticipate paying dearly for the treat.
Today, however, things are a little bit different. Today will be spent preparing for the final push to end fair week. Tomorrow I'll have my regular football crowd in addition to the carnies, and then Sunday--oh blessed Sunday!-- my regulars and I get to watch as the carnies pack up and move out. *does the happy dance*
I can't wait.
Three days and counting until the fair is over. At the moment, the score is carnies: 489; mscelina: 2.
It was freaking cold last night--less than 30 degrees farenheit by the time the fair closed so there were LOTS of people in the bar. it wasn't until I started to count down my cash register that I realized it was Friday the 13th. Could there be a more appropriate day? Not in my world. After all, despite my avowed skepticism on the validity of Friday the 13th being bad luck, so far in my lifetime the only thing unlucky about Friday the 13th has been a string of execrable movies bearing that phrase in the title.
*looks around for a dude in a hockey mask*
At any rate, suffice it to say that the only unlucky thing about the day so far is the temperature. I'm the kind of person who likes to ease into cold. The day before yesterday, I spent a good hour in the basement of my new house while the tornado sirens went off. Today? Flurries.
NO FAIR!
All I have to do is make it through this weekend, and then on Monday I find myself in the Smokies sitting in a hot tub, drinking beer and watching leaves fall for a week. Not a bad birthday present overall. I already scheduled a horseback ride up Clingman's Dome for Tuesday, at which point the hot tub will become a medical necessity. It's been at least four years since I was well enough to ride, so I anticipate paying dearly for the treat.
Today, however, things are a little bit different. Today will be spent preparing for the final push to end fair week. Tomorrow I'll have my regular football crowd in addition to the carnies, and then Sunday--oh blessed Sunday!-- my regulars and I get to watch as the carnies pack up and move out. *does the happy dance*
I can't wait.
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
The Carnies Are Winning
Ack! They're everywhere! Aside from being subjected to potentially the worse aggregate dental history ever, I have to draw the line at carnie inundation. They're in the bar from 12 noon until 2 am, taking breaks from their rides and games and gulping down PBR and Jack Daniels at astonishing rates. It's totally bizarre. For our regulars, it's a field day. They sit in their customary chairs, discussing the genetic potential for some of the specimens that stagger through the door with terrible accuracy. For example:
"I've never seen teeth like that on a human being in my life. His front teeth are coming out of his gums at such a strange angle that you could stack dominoes on them."
"I wonder what drugs his mother did in the sixties to cause that to happen?"
(Celina, behind the bar, sighs.)
"We should ask him. Whatever she did, we want to make sure that we never take it."
"Maybe it was Agent Orange?"
(Celina, behind the bar, rolls her eyes.)
"So is he a midget, or a half-midget?"
Truly frightening.
In other news, next week I'm headed for the (hopefully) carnie-free Appalachians. Usually, my annual fall trek involves a University of Tennessee football game, but this year I have to go during the week. *pouts* Of course, it will be peak season for fall foliage, so I'll at least be able to have a couple of good hikes and get some great pictures. I'll share them when I get back.
Oh well. Only the thought of my vacation is keeping me going. I have to go get ready for another 17 hour day at work now. After all, the carnies must get their booze. *sigh* Maybe I'll be able to salvage my sanity somehow, but at the moment I think the carnies are winning in their insidious plot to drive me crazy.
Time for a new strategy. *grin*
"I've never seen teeth like that on a human being in my life. His front teeth are coming out of his gums at such a strange angle that you could stack dominoes on them."
"I wonder what drugs his mother did in the sixties to cause that to happen?"
(Celina, behind the bar, sighs.)
"We should ask him. Whatever she did, we want to make sure that we never take it."
"Maybe it was Agent Orange?"
(Celina, behind the bar, rolls her eyes.)
"So is he a midget, or a half-midget?"
Truly frightening.
In other news, next week I'm headed for the (hopefully) carnie-free Appalachians. Usually, my annual fall trek involves a University of Tennessee football game, but this year I have to go during the week. *pouts* Of course, it will be peak season for fall foliage, so I'll at least be able to have a couple of good hikes and get some great pictures. I'll share them when I get back.
Oh well. Only the thought of my vacation is keeping me going. I have to go get ready for another 17 hour day at work now. After all, the carnies must get their booze. *sigh* Maybe I'll be able to salvage my sanity somehow, but at the moment I think the carnies are winning in their insidious plot to drive me crazy.
Time for a new strategy. *grin*
Friday, October 06, 2006
Confusion in the Ranks
Rank of course is being used in the broadest sense of the word. Darn those carnies.
At any rate, I received an interesting email today from a *fan*. I'm using the term very loosely, by the way. In this email, I was informed that the aforetosaid *fan* was *shocked and horrified* at the *blasphemous* way I changed Greek mythology *which is taught in our schools* to a *pornographic piece of crap.*
I was surprised by the crap too. I thought I'd created pornographic art. At any rate, to continue---
I have now received my first assurance from someone other than the priest who baptized, christened, and confirmed me that I am going to hell. Would you care to see my response? *evil grin*
"Dear (fill in the blank)
I was intrigued by your email. Allow me to point out for the record that I remained quite faithful to the original myth of Eros and Psyche, which was written by Apuleius in his collection of stories "The Golden Ass." As he was a Roman living during the second century A.D., you'd have to address any issues of blasphemy to him. I can assure you, by the way, that "The Golden Ass" is not taught in American primary schools. The novel is sexually explicit without my assistance.
I would be interested, however, to discover how you slapped a *pornographic piece of crap* label upon my work. As you are obviously someone who is offended by erotica, how did you manage to get a copy of my work? If you paid for it, then you are a hypocrite. If you didn't pay for it, then you are a thief. If neither applies to you, then you did not read it and you are a liar.
Thank you once again for your enlightening and ridiculous email. I sincerely hope that boil on your bottom is lanced soon so that your mood may improve. Have a nice day!"
Gee. I feel all important now. I think I should drop a line to J.K. Rowling, the proud author of the world's most banned books, and tell her that I feel her pain. I have a feeling that the email is its entirety will be posted on Isabelle's Mythos Erotica website. Actually, I'm going to create a whole new PAGE for it---if for no other reason that it amuses me.
Okay. Back to the bar and dealing with carnies.
At any rate, I received an interesting email today from a *fan*. I'm using the term very loosely, by the way. In this email, I was informed that the aforetosaid *fan* was *shocked and horrified* at the *blasphemous* way I changed Greek mythology *which is taught in our schools* to a *pornographic piece of crap.*
I was surprised by the crap too. I thought I'd created pornographic art. At any rate, to continue---
I have now received my first assurance from someone other than the priest who baptized, christened, and confirmed me that I am going to hell. Would you care to see my response? *evil grin*
"Dear (fill in the blank)
I was intrigued by your email. Allow me to point out for the record that I remained quite faithful to the original myth of Eros and Psyche, which was written by Apuleius in his collection of stories "The Golden Ass." As he was a Roman living during the second century A.D., you'd have to address any issues of blasphemy to him. I can assure you, by the way, that "The Golden Ass" is not taught in American primary schools. The novel is sexually explicit without my assistance.
I would be interested, however, to discover how you slapped a *pornographic piece of crap* label upon my work. As you are obviously someone who is offended by erotica, how did you manage to get a copy of my work? If you paid for it, then you are a hypocrite. If you didn't pay for it, then you are a thief. If neither applies to you, then you did not read it and you are a liar.
Thank you once again for your enlightening and ridiculous email. I sincerely hope that boil on your bottom is lanced soon so that your mood may improve. Have a nice day!"
Gee. I feel all important now. I think I should drop a line to J.K. Rowling, the proud author of the world's most banned books, and tell her that I feel her pain. I have a feeling that the email is its entirety will be posted on Isabelle's Mythos Erotica website. Actually, I'm going to create a whole new PAGE for it---if for no other reason that it amuses me.
Okay. Back to the bar and dealing with carnies.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Multitasking
I am apparently a professional multi-tasker at this point. Picture my workdesk at the moment. The desktop pc is stacked with windows: blog, author chat, im chat, wikipedia, my website, and messenger windows.
Oh, and College Football News. Can't forget that.
On the left of the desktop is the laptop, open to the latest story I'm cranking out. I have a roast in the oven, laundry in the washer and dryer, a cat on my lap and the phone to my ear yelling at the roofers to get the hell over here and fix the (%*^#)%(#^ leak in the ceiling of the back bedroom.
Only rarely do I type something in the wrong window. The messenger windows are apt to foul me up quicker than anything else---well, that and my inability to pay attention to what I'm doing. So far today, I've managed to crank out a good 6k on two different projects so I've been fairly productive. *sigh*
Oh, about the carnies. Yep, they are out in full force now. Carnies everywhere. For some reason, when the tornado sirens blew last night the carnies decided they'd rather die in the bar than in their RVs. It was an exodus of oddities streaming across the road that first alerted me to their sinister intentions. Up until that point, I was considering which bottles of booze to take into the cellar with me.
Needless to say, I was immediately so busy that I would probably still have been mixing drinks as the tornado blew me to Oz.
We're not in Kansas anymore, Toto.
Oh, and College Football News. Can't forget that.
On the left of the desktop is the laptop, open to the latest story I'm cranking out. I have a roast in the oven, laundry in the washer and dryer, a cat on my lap and the phone to my ear yelling at the roofers to get the hell over here and fix the (%*^#)%(#^ leak in the ceiling of the back bedroom.
Only rarely do I type something in the wrong window. The messenger windows are apt to foul me up quicker than anything else---well, that and my inability to pay attention to what I'm doing. So far today, I've managed to crank out a good 6k on two different projects so I've been fairly productive. *sigh*
Oh, about the carnies. Yep, they are out in full force now. Carnies everywhere. For some reason, when the tornado sirens blew last night the carnies decided they'd rather die in the bar than in their RVs. It was an exodus of oddities streaming across the road that first alerted me to their sinister intentions. Up until that point, I was considering which bottles of booze to take into the cellar with me.
Needless to say, I was immediately so busy that I would probably still have been mixing drinks as the tornado blew me to Oz.
We're not in Kansas anymore, Toto.
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Invasion Update
They're getting stronger. The back end of the fairgrounds (basically across the street from where I live) looks like a used RV sale. The influx of bearded, strange-looking people of both genders in teetering on the edge of ewwww. Overnight, the most popular beer at the bar went from Bud Light (allow me to state for the record that I don't really consider Bud Light a beer) to Pabst Blue Ribbon (they still make that shit?).
Surely, these are the unwashed masses that the Statue of Liberty warned us about.
Last year during fair week, one of my cats ran away. Impy is an escape artist. He opens refrigerators and closed doors. He also can open the casement windows. One morning I got up to find the cat gone and the window wide open. So, I walk the street in the pouring rain calling my cat and completely certain that he'd been run over by a car. It was like something from Something Wicked This Way Comes.
Then, I walked by the carnie campground.
As I yelled "Impy!" I saw a grey head poke up from halfway through the camp. (28 pound Maine Coon in case you're interested) He was getting fed by a carnie! So he takes off, running toward me and I rescued him in the nick of time.
This year, I've tied all the windows shut.
At any rate, the bar staff at the Fairview is currently outnumbered 300-5. I think they're winning. *runs off to call in beer order, including 20 additional cases of PBR*
Surely, these are the unwashed masses that the Statue of Liberty warned us about.
Last year during fair week, one of my cats ran away. Impy is an escape artist. He opens refrigerators and closed doors. He also can open the casement windows. One morning I got up to find the cat gone and the window wide open. So, I walk the street in the pouring rain calling my cat and completely certain that he'd been run over by a car. It was like something from Something Wicked This Way Comes.
Then, I walked by the carnie campground.
As I yelled "Impy!" I saw a grey head poke up from halfway through the camp. (28 pound Maine Coon in case you're interested) He was getting fed by a carnie! So he takes off, running toward me and I rescued him in the nick of time.
This year, I've tied all the windows shut.
At any rate, the bar staff at the Fairview is currently outnumbered 300-5. I think they're winning. *runs off to call in beer order, including 20 additional cases of PBR*
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