Flash Fiction: Grand Dad's Truck

"Ma said he picked up grandma in a truck. That was the first sign of things to go wrong.  At the drive-in, his spilled her malt, all over her dress when he tried to kiss her. Then on the way back, he splattered mud on her when he tried to help someone out of a ditch." Faye was amazed that Grandma ever dated again.

"Grandma must have hated him for that…" The girls laughed, each glad she was not her.

"What are you two laughing about?" Jamilla said.

"Mom told us about your first date. What a loser." Wanda said.

"I married that loser. His truck is still in the yard." Jamilla said proudly. "And your grandfather better not hear you talk like that."

Flash Fiction over at Madison Woods or on Twitter #FridayFictioneers 

Blah Blah...

Last night, Occupy and I watch the Wiz. He never even heard of it. Personally I think it's a part of urban black history. I love the movie. He said he enjoyed it, so I have to believe that he did. I really wanted to narrate the whole thing so he could catch some of the undertones in it. I decided not to, because I wanted him to just take it all in.


After the movie I heard him humming one of the songs from the movie. Well at least that worked. I was humming a tune all day yesterday, from the movie. I kind had to watch it eventually.


Today on the other hand, is not so hot. I don't feel like being on the phones. I would rather be out enjoying the nice day it's turning out to be. Guys I'm having cabin fever. I need to get out.


Bent over a computer on a day like today should be a sin. Attached to phone? Blasphemy!


I'm taking a note out the great Ferris Bueller's book and I'm going on a day off. Yes it has been decided. Days like today cannot be ignored....



I mean the evil word "work" just needs to be scratched from my vocabulary. My hearts not in it, so why force it?

The Penny Auction: Part Duex

So the founder of the Penny Auction site who wanted me to ghost blog, has for all intents and purposes, changed his mind. Sad Face...


I sent him a rough draft, having read it out to Occupy, and made some corrections. Occupy liked it. I'm convinced that Occupy likes most things I do. Yay ME!!! Anyway, I sent that off to PAG, (Penny Auction Guy) and PAG didn't like it. WHAAAAA??? What do you mean he didn't like it? That's what I said, he didn't like it.


So for your viewing pleasure or displeasure, I give you my ghost blog, minus the company name and contact information.

__________.com

Welcome to the launch of _________, I'm T_____, the founder, and my team and I have worked very hard to get this new concept in penny auctions off the ground. This is our blog which we hope to update regularly, and with your continued support and enthusiasm, we will continue to do so.

We are breaking the mold here folks. We're doing something that going to set the Penny Auction World on it's heels. We are using the eBay online auction business model to start, then we're going to do a little something different to bring you a better experience. Do not worry, you'll still have all the benefits and ease you expect from an eBay-like auction site. It's just going to be something a little different. 

We are nothing liked the other penny auction websites and we are proud of it. We give our users a little bit more control of the bidding process, so you get some money back for a change. Like a boomerang; toss it out there and it always come back. Get it? _________-boomerang, you can insert your cheesy joke right here________ but remember we are about you. In fact we like to think that we are you and vice verse. Different right? I hope you like it.

Okay so here's the disclaimer: This is a start-up, so you're getting the beta version. Have a little patience with us as we tweak our site to make it even better than it already is. We are a team of great folks working together to make sure that we don't conform like the other penny auction sites. That said, we want your feedback. No worries about whether we'll read it, trust us, we will. You can send your ideas to us here at blog@_________.com. You can even reach me personally at t@_________.com, I check to comments here too!

I gotta apologize for the crazy long first entry. I'm a little excited to be sharing this with you. You have any issues you need me to fix, drop a note. We'll take care of if, because that how we are. See you soon.

Folks you need to let me know what's the deally on this. Because I'm so awesome. No, I'm just kidding, but I am a newbie at this writing thing. Professional work isn't my thing but like I said in the first post about penny auctions, I'm trying to expand my hustle. All feedback is good feedback for this one. 

You know that may not be true. If you think I'm going to let you drag my name through the mud with comments not pertaining to this particular blog, I might just not allow it to stay up. Let's not test that theory today, M'kay. I never delete comments.

The Penny Auction?

Ms. Townes is always looking to expand her hustle. So with not much trepidation but a lot of skepticism I'm  tripping over myself trying to understand this thing called the penny auction. I don't want to participate in it, because I'm broke, more like, be able to write about it.

It's something different, and different, has turned on a $17 Laptop and shot me an email. So begins my journey...

Wiki said it was something akin to gambling. From the few sites I've visited I might agree. I can see some excitement being generated while bidding on something you'd normally not be able to afford. I could totally see it. Sort of like winning at a lottery.

Lets pretend the penny auction was a game. I like games. So the object of the game is to be the last person to bid on an item before the time runs out. The thing is, every time you bid the time is extended. So a smart bidder would wait until the time gets down to the last five seconds before the bidding closes, then bid again.

What do you do then, if there is another person using the same strategy? Well you keep bidding. How do you bid? Do you use actual money? Yes and no. Here is where I get confused. Since the item you're attempting to "win" is already dirt cheap you are raising it's price, by like a penny every time. But the bids themselves cost a dollar and some change. So you're really spending the cost of the item plus the cost of the bids.

I think it still comes out pretty cheap, but I'm guessing it is a part of the thrill to "beat" someone out of an item. Kind of like when you haggle a vendor at a flea market. That feeling of accomplishment, the WIN moment, the rush it gives you when you have that item wrapped up and in your hand. I don't know.

I don't know if this is something I can get into, but I know that I've been asked to ghost blog about it. I'm hoping that with some understanding of it I can do that and do it well. Hey it is a paid gig...

Overall skin care for tattoos: Love your ink at 90

When I'm ninety years old I'm going to go into my bedroom, remove all my clothes and stand, if I can still do that, in front of a mirror. Among the wrinkles, sag and cellulite, there will be tattoos. Since I'm thirty-two now the image is not so bad. There are only eight tattoos on my body now. In it's ever changing appearance, they are the only things that haven't changed over the past eight years since I got my first one.

I recently went to my bathroom and looked at my first tattoo, a simple fish goat, the symbol of the Capricorn. With little thought to what it would look like in the future I threw it over my right shoulder. That actually was a great place to put it. The process itself was relatively painless. It looks pretty much the same as it did when it was fresh. My other ones have not fared so well.

I could blame the artist. I could blurt out silly myths like, "He did't go deep enough," or I could say, "he used cheap ink." I could also, be very very wrong. The truth is there are a billion factors for why my other tattoos  aren't as fabulous. The main perpetrator is me.

I have a habit of changing body types every few years. In other words my weight fluctuates. Weight fluctuation is one of the top reasons why tattoos don't stay looking clean. Your skin looses elasticity naturally with age. If you add rapid changes in weight your ink will change, along with your body. Ladies this fact is also true with breast sag, you've been warned. If you want to keep your ink looking fresh as a daisy you'll take care of your body.

Another big reason my body art might need touching up is sun damage. I'm from New England.  I now live in southern California where the sun almost always make an appearance. It's warm and I like being outdoors.  Just like dye in your hair, the ink on your skin will fade. Fine lines and fading detail will suffer the most with constant sun exposure. The bolder colors and thicker lines are just as susceptible but it might not be as noticeable. Wear some sun screen if you have to. Here's a little hint, everyone has to wear sunscreen.

Moisturize: If there isn't enough commercials reminding you to keep your skin moist, I'm going to say so as well. I'm not going to sell you a particular brand, because, that is not my job.  Not only does moisturizing keep your skin looking younger, it also, just looks cool. Nothing is worse than looking at someone else's tattoo, and the skin looks like sand paper.  Remember that elasticity thing I spoke of earlier? This is another thing what will help your art stay bold. Moist, tight skin always equals sharp  ink.

I'm going to say this and you, reader, might not want to hear it. Take care of yourself. Eat right, maintain a healthy weight and protect yourself from sun damage. So when you're naked at ninety and standing in front of a mirror, you'll at least have something pretty to look at. 

Outland: Friday Flash Fiction

This week I bring back Marta and Henry from the first Flash Fiction exercise I did.  It seemed like a good idea at the time. Here's the picture prompt:

Happy Reading

Marta woke in the pre dawn. Henry, beside her, mumbled as she left the warmth of their shared bed.

She looked out the window at the hills behind the hideout. The sun would be rising on a dismal day.

"Perfect!" She said as she turned on the coffee pot. She looked over at Henry's still sleeping form. He would be dead by noon.

Marta went back to the window as Henry woke. He wrapped his big bear arms around her, content to watch the sun rise over the hills.

"We're going over those hills today." She said, into his warmth. "We should dress warm."

"I'll be ready."

She turned fully into his arms and kissed him. Behind him the shot gun sat in the corner. "No you won't."

For more Flash Fictioneer stories visit: Madison Woods  or follow along on twitter #FridayFictioneer

Onesie: Just put 'em in one and tell him a story

Occupy got to witness a great caller I had last night.


"This is ______ how are you doing?"
"I just took my bath because I wet myself."
"Did you now?"
"uh-haaaan uh. I had to take a bath because I wet the bed."
"You did! Well are you all cleaned up now."
"Yes Ma'am." (al lot of stuttering) "Because I wet the bed."


And the conversation devolves from there.


The call last about 30 minutes. There's a lot of baby talk involved, lots of wet slobbery kisses and phone zerberts on fake tummies. Tickles and a very nice man are discussed. I even get a fake picture painted by a little kid (this kid is probably 50 years old). The point is there is an entire world created to make my caller safe enough to live out his fantasy. I'm not going to judge and I'm not going to criticize. I'll leave that for the real world.


Occupy on the other hand was slightly disturbed. I used the same voice I save for talking to Chewy on my caller through out the conversation. I even talk to Chewy while on this call because, well because Chewy was sitting right there. Chewy can't tell that I'm not talking to him.  But he's a dog, Occupy, a full grown human, can understand that my caller just decided that he wants to wear a onesie.


Not just any onesie, not I'm talking the onesie you put on little babies the one with the snaps at the crotch. These are the ones that have extra spacing to accommodate a super bulky diaper. Then it's pink like cotton candy pink with little sheep on it.


We go the process of putting said onesie on and my caller is over the moon about it. We go through each little snap and I even play with his feet a little. Like I said I make an entire world, and he thanks me profusely when he hangs up.




I asked Occupy what he thought about my job. if you can imagine deadpan, think of the most dead pan person you know and say, "well my horizon's been broadened." I asked if his concept of sexuality has been expanded by listening to my calls, and I got another dead pan yes. Then I asked him if he had any favorites. For this he got super animated, then he said the coke head.


Let me explain the coke head (very briefly). A few days ago I got a caller who asked me if I liked to party. Like any good phone wh*re I said yes. He then offered me coke over the phone and told me to say I'm a c*ck  s&*king coke sl$t, over and over again. All while snorting the stuff on the phone while he talked.


Occupy took my dog for a walk, came back, nodded off to a nap, woke up read some email, and I was still on the phone. Three hours later I'm still saying variations of the I'm a coke wh*re. That was a test of my endurance. My calls never last that long, usually 20-60 minutes. Calls that long are a rarity for me and even though that was a metric butt ton of money I made I'm kind of hoping to never get that call again.


Lets be honest, I'm not really comfortable telling someone to pollute themselves with poison. I'm a recovering alkie remember. Stuff like this more than concerns me. But it is the nature of my job, and like most jobs there comes a time when your bills and rent outweigh your conscious.


After we laughed about that call he asked me what happened to the kid from the other night:


"What kid?"
"The one you baby talked to for like 20 minutes."
"That wasn't a kid."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah."
"So what did you do?"
"I put him in his onesie, told him a story, gave him a wet sloppy kiss and said good night."
"Seriously?"
"YEAH, Seriously."


Girl six signing out...

Out in the fresh air

Today managed to be such a great day, that me and Occupy took Chewy out to the Park. Balboa Park is a fabulous place to be. So we pack the car and went.

  Balboa Park was named after the first European to see the Pacific Ocean, while exploring Panama, some time in the earl 20th century or the early 1900's. Prior to that the Park was originally called city park. Pretty lame right.

  From the web page* I gathered that this place was seriously underdeveloped for the first 20 or so years. Then in the 1890's someone names Susan Sessions (a very good talker I'm guessing) bartered land from the park to build a nursery. The plants in the nursery went directly to the park  most of which are still there today. It's said that most of the 1400 acres of land was mostly brush until she came along.

 Sadly of the 1400 acres that started the park only a whooping 1200 remain. OMG, Balboa park is supposed to be one of the largest urban cultural park in the Unites States.  I can believe that, you know why? I'm going to tell you. 


On the bus (just go with it) that I take to school, there are at least five bus stops that the route passes. Each stop has some kind of attraction near it. Hence, the need for a bus stop.


There is a zoo, at least two museums and a bunch of other attractions on the bus rout alone. The information page says 15 museums. Holy Crap 15!

 

 
  There's a public garden somewhere in this ginormous park because somewhere hear this picture right above are pictures of it on an info board. Don't ask me where it is, because I don't know.

  <<Some pictures of Occupy here 

 


Balboa Park right now is hosting a Science fair until the end of this week at the museum of Natural History and the Museum of Science. It has since I've been here hosted the San Diego Black Film Festival. Which Fine  and Sexy invited me to when I met him. And more impressive is that Balboa Park hosted the Millennium Expo back in the year 2000.


Not a bad for a park with such humble beginnings.

*All information was taken from the Balboa Park Website linked above. Please, if you ever come to San Diego, save that web page and plan a few days to explore this wonderful jewel right smack in the middle of the city.

Our Dogs match, We Should Mate

First off the weather this weekend sucked here in San Diego...


So a while back I told Occupy that I met a guy on one of my walks that has a 3 year old Lhasa Apso.  Occupy immediately asks if I though the guy was cute. Of course I thought he was cute. The man was beyond handsome.  He had beautiful twisted locks, smooth chocolate skin, big juicy kissable lips and he has the same dog as me. The dog's name was Skittles.


Occupy decided that I should walk my dog around his house again to see if I could once again strike up a conversation with said hottie and his dog. If only life were that simple. I'm sure in what ever universe Occupy, er occupies, stalker charges don't exist.


Let me say that before my couch was invaded I did go back that way in hopes of seeing Fine and Sexy. I didn't see him and Chewy doesn't like taking that route. It's too noisy and has too much traffic on the road for him to feel safe.


Sounds like a cop out? Yes. But would I rather be a cliche of matching Lhasa? NO!!! I don't care how cute a pair of Lhasa Apso's are, somethings just scream lame.


If I had a female bestie local, I could totally run this by her, alas all my besties are back in Boston, or Norfolk or Yokosuka. I really need to get out.


So every time I say to Occupy I need a date. He always brings up Fine and Sexy. He imagines little doggy play dates and walks to the park where our dogs Chewy and Skittles romp together. I think he's on to something. Just not the right something.


Now I'm reminded of that super cheesy movie, Must Love Dogs. I didn't see the movie because I read the book. Back when I used to by my books from CVS. I've entered a new market of guys. I can now date guys that like dogs. I mean I dated them before but I never considered them a separate group.


So if I really wanted a date once in a while, I could trot my happy butt on to Plenty of Fish and demand that all persons interested have to be a dog lover, or at least a fan.  Even though that site does not work like that. Anyway all this is in an effort to avoid stalking Fine and Sexy.


Who knows maybe the weather in San Diego will get better and I can pretend I'm not stalking him. Or I  could do like I did when I was still in the service and Carry On Smartly. You never really know. But if you ask my buddy Occupy, he'd tell me, and you, I'm missing an opportunity.

Don't Answer the Phone

Today since it rained buckets of cold suck, I decided to write. Great thing that I'm able to do this especially since it's all about evil chapter six. Funny thing that the VA actually came through and now that I have a little more focus back I can now do this. So anyway I told Occupy the plan and said if the phone rings and it's my mom don;t answer it.  I'm going to go write and I can't be interrupted. I even put on my big noise canceling head phones to make a point.


Occupy never answers the phone. Part because I'm always logged on and working and partly because there is really no reason for him to do so.


Mom calls from some unknown number. Of course he picks it up, now I have to explain to her why a man of whom she has no knowledge of is picking up my phone. For reasons I'm not going to get into right now, this is going to be a difficult thing to talk about with her.


After a very awkward "I'm just returning your call, I can tell your busy," statement from Mommy Dearest, I have to wonder what she thinks is going on here in rainy San Diego while she is across the country back east? I can assure you that the show at Ms. Townes' house is g rated when I'm not on the phones working. But to explain that to mom, might be a little hard to do convincingly.


Fast forward to about 9PM when my oldest brother calls. Yay! Me for having a family that cares. Once again I have my headphones on and blasting while I type away at chapter six. I'm actually making progress. My fingers dance over the keyboards with sure strokes of pure American genius. then I get that awful tap on my shoulder.


My oldest brother, since I don;t take him very seriously, gets put on speaker so Occupy can here him scream who the heck was that answering the phone.  Sure telling my brother why I have a guest no big deal. Telling my mother, super big deal. Why, I don't know.


Regardless I managed to stop thinking and preaching about chapter six and finally wrote it down. Once again I am a little stuck but at least I have moved from the spot where I was stuck before. Nothing a night of good sleep won't cure.

Be well people.

In the Way of everything else

Last night I planned my day around me going to a clinic and doing  little research on it. After doing a little  history snooping about the area of San Diego I live in, I figured it would be a great starting point. The Heights Bulletin wants a weekly post about the businesses in the community and I had planned to spend my Friday working on it. Clearly since I'm here blogging and not on their website blogging I didn't get to it.

Last night I logged on to my phone and promptly sat down to a movie with Occupy. We managed to get through the whole movie. We smoked two cigarettes outside, came up with a shopping list, discussed where we want to move, trouble shot the spotty Internet and a boat load of other stuff before we turned in to sleep.  I forgot to log off. I do remember thinking that I should log off, but I guess I just didn't.


Bright and early I get a call, about six AM. I thought it was my mother, or my brother, or someone. No pervert is up that early, right? Wrong, here in California we are the last to wake up so when it's six on the west coast it's nine on the east. I'm getting the mid-morning sneak freaks. After the first call I log off because I really wanted to sleep. The call took up an hour of my nap time. Hey that's a good thing. But I wanted to sleep some more.


Five minuted later my boss calls me back asking if I can take another call. She knows that I'm off now but asks anyway. So I take the call. 15 minutes later I ask her if she has other girls on and the answer was not what I wanted to hear. So I logged back on. By 1:30 PM I'd made $180. I never have days like this. Ever.


I need to do the blog entry so I can have it submitted for this week. Maybe I can push it to Monday. If I can manage to get it in by Sunday night. Then I'll have to think of another place I have to go. It will definitely give me an excuse to take my camera. Pictures are always good.


Heck anything other is better than nothing at all. Lets just hope I log off my line tonight so that I can execute the plan in the morning. Making money is great, but if it's in the way of everything else, how good is it really???

Friday Flash Fiction: Alpha

100+/- short story about a picture. Here's the picture:

And here's my story:
Alpha

Alpha lost the pack to his son fair and square. Now that he'd found a human he was safe, and warm. He's final days would be here.

As Alpha's last sun set, he thought back on his sire, the new Pack Leader. He felt he would be a great king, and he was proud of him.

A cry of the utmost pain and suffering rang through the woods as Alpha struggled to sit. Loud and long enough for it to fall on old Alpha's ears, his son! 

Adrenaline rushed through his old body, tensing itself to spring into action. Then his heart skipped two beats.  At his son's  desperate cries Alpha remained sitting, then he lowered himself completely to the ground. When he closed his eyes for the last time, he heard the erratic beating of his own heart and the howls of his son's anguish. Then nothing as he exhaled for the last time.

Okay on twitter look for #FridayFictioneers or @Massion_Woods. I'm on Twitter at @AtiyaWTownes. Join the fray folks.

Contradiction California

I've supported a lot of things over the years. Once I was a contributing member of PETA, ASPCA, WWF, and the EPA. I was trying to save the world $1 at a time. I recycled, I still do and I rode the bus every where. (Only because I still can't drive) I even got a bike so that I could cut down on waste created by my one extra person taking Public Transportation.  Every animal I ever adopted came from a shelter. I only wore cotton.


I could go on for ages about how I wanted to do my part to save the world. I mean on and on. But here's why I'm not such a Teva sporting, tofu munching, tree hugging, green freak, the economy. Also, Teva's are ugly.


Funny, if I had not fallen on such hard times repeatedly over the last 13years I would have been such a hemp wearing hippy. Eventually I would have dropped PETA, because they aren't about saving the planet. They are not how I operate. But mostly I would have continued thrown money at these agencies because "we only have one Earth."


Joining the Military was a big change. There is so much waste, just built into the system. Granted they as a whole would reward anyone who finds a way to reuse a resource, it just overwhelming sometimes the amount of stuff that can't be reused for security reasons. Just because I understand it, doesn't mean I like it.


Now that I'm back in the civilian world and once again strapped, I'm at a loss as to what I can do other than recycle, to make my world a safer, cleaner, more pleasant place. It does not help that my druggie neighbors are the epitome of wasteful behaviors. Nor does it help that I have not actually checked out San Diego's policy on recycling. I have not even volunteered even a smattering of time at the local animal shelter where I adopted Chewy.

What I have done is bought this t-shirt:
And what a t-shirt it is. See the bike in the background. That's mine, the cowboy hat belongs to Occupy Couch.


Yes I'm poking fun at my old ways. I am, how ever despite the poor taste in which I took this picture, it makes me giggle, slowly making my way back to that. When I make more money I probably will get the original World Wildlife Fund t-shirt. In my ever changing attitude towards a lot of things I've always recognized the need for conservation.


Let's be realistic though, as Occupy has stated I am a seriously offensive person, otherwise an a**hole.  And my need to smoke three cigarettes a day sort of negates any small changes I've made to how I live. That awful cowboy hat ain't helping the cause right now either.

Hulk Hogan eat your heart out

I don't know folks, maybe the point of today's entry was to show off my wicked cool t-shirt. Maybe I have a little save the world guilt building up inside me. Maybe I just miss not worrying about how to live with out leaving such a large footprint. Or Maybe I like Wrestling, I grew up on wrestling.  Who recognizes this pose:


Anyway, if I could choose where I'd donate my last dollar it would be here WWF these folks do great things around the world and can only benefit from more people being aware of what they do. In fact check out their blog on Climate change.


While you're there looking them over I'll be in this awesome t-shirt contradicting myself right here.

Short one: Another Bean Counter

I have to give credit to Boston's Weekly Dig for inventing the Bean Counter. What else would make me laugh and cry.
Last Bean Counter Total (Thanks to Chewy) -108




Rode my bike for the first time in a long time to the Post Office. +5


Took the back way and got lost on the way to Post Office. -3


Mailed off my GI Bill Application for the Fall Semester at the Post Office. +4


Neighbors leaving their kids unattended to do drugs. -70


Received letter from State of California saying I qualify for unemployment. +100


Just started a new job. +50


Unqualified for unemployment the minute I get my first paycheck. -72


Started writing a new Short Story :The Take. +6


Glimmer train still has not reviewed Spring Fling. -9


Kony 2012. -90


Facebook helping a woman find out her estranged husband married another woman without divorcing her, by the people you may know button. WINNING +96


Found a walking trail in the neighborhood that looks like an amateur photo-hog's dream come true. +12


Being Human comes on tonight. +45


Grand Total Bean Counter: 36


Better than last week...

Adventures in Doggy Poop

One of my friends from back in the day when drinking was cool (it still is just not for me) posted on Facebook this seriously funny article about baby poop. The author a new mom herself waxed eloquent about her fascination with her little girls back door emissions.


That led me to thinking about my Chewy. He is a very special boy. In dog years, he's older than me, but he's still a six year old dog. First about how it took him four days to go number two when he first came home. Read that here in a previous post. Then I thought about how he goes about "going" now. It  is a vey involved process, serious business, for him anyway.


But back to the topic at hand. I've on at least three occasions asked Occupy to take Chewy on a walk, sending them off with very specific instructions to bag the poop. Occupy refuses to bag the poop. Says something about the smell. He should have been here when Chewy had worms.


Thanks to the recommendation of the Vet, the Groomer, the SD Humane Society, the Natural Foods Pet Store Owner, and dog lovers I meet on our walks, Chewy eats better than I do. Sadly it comes out pretty odious, and he's gassy.  You'd think that if I give him better food that it'd smell better. It doesn't, so picking it up while it's still warm is no treat.


Last night, we, as a very dysfunctional family unit, took Chewy out for his bed time walk. The special little man that he is stopped at every pole, bush, tree, and trash can on the route. Every time he looks at me as if for permission to drop a deuce. In unison me and Occupy say over and over "go ahead Chewy" "Its okay, you can do it," and really it is because I'll be right there to pick it up.  I can honestly  I've spent a great deal of time staring at his ass just to see if was actually going to go. I can tell you that it's not something I wake up looking forward to.


I do have to say though that the process is hilarious to see. Watching the little guy figure out that he's going to go is awesome. I swear he's looking for a patch of super soft grass or something. It's not like he's going to lay in afterwards so why does this matter? Last night while me and Occupy were discussing the merits of Tea Cup dogs, Chewy circled the same tree five times. I smoked an entire Camel Wide waiting for him to get it together. After all that posing, pausing and repositioning, his butt finally took charge. I know because I saw it leaking butt juice. I am fascinated by this butt juice. I'm told the butt juice is produced by two glands located right near his butt hole (I am truly getting a kick out of this. Toilet humor moves me), and their sole purpose is to lube the poo as it comes out. It's like a visual cue for me.  Poor guy ended up going at the edge of the sidewalk while cars on the main road passed by. The little brain fart had the audacity to make eye contact while he did it too.

I'm too sexy for this Blog

There are something I really don't want to experience, one of them is eye contact while defecating. Yet my dog seems more than comfortable eye fucking me while he's doing his do. Eghads he's a weird creature!


Now here is where me and Occupy differ. Not only do I, like a good doggie momma pick up his poo with my special doggie poo bag, I'm going to inspect it too! I have to, I don't want to, but I'm really not excited to treat another worms infestation. That is just not something I wan to see.


Occupy is practically gagging while I inspect the poop. Something like "I can't do that. Oh man the smell" and I'm sure a few more things. Personally I'm with him on this, but it's a law, and I like to psyche myself out by believing that crap I read on Petside. Yeah yeah you CAN tell a lot about an animal by their poop. All kinds of interesting facts. I believe that, I was at some point going to school to be a vet, so this is actually true. Doesn't mean I like it. It smells like shite, it is shite, so why would I like this?


And to add the insult of a steaming bag of shite, the better, faster, and lighter Chewy, decided to start high tailing it home. What was at first a nice evening amble is now a power walk with Chewy in the lead. He's surprisingly strong, and when I'm in the mood to humor him I let him walk me.


And why not? I got the poop.

How Dark are the Shadows?

Back in the early 90's my family was big into watching TV together. Mom of course picked the show we watched and none of us complained. Mostly because she picked good shows, not because she was the BOSS. It was not a planned "let's make popcorn and snuggle" moment. it was more like Mom would grab the remote, sit in the most comfy seat in the family room and turn on the TV. We'd sort of gravitate there from our own little worlds and sit on the floor or the bed or where ever and end up watching the show with her.

1991 Cast

We held mini-series in super high regard. Anyone remember the original V (I do) Jesus of Nazareth (been there) Thornbirds (done that) there's more but I can't remember. I do remember Dark Shadows.


Over on Google+ someone dated themselves and brought the show back from obscurity. To be fair Tim Burton is making Dark Shadows a movie, due out in May. Dark Shadows: CHANGED. MY. LIFE


Mommy Dearest was so psyched that they made a mini-series off the original show, that she, and I'm totally making this up, got cable to watch it on the then Sci-Fi Channel.  Honestly I have no idea why she got cable. But that's not the point. The point is that we'd watch the "new" Dark Shadows every Thursday on one of the big three channels(CBS, ABC, NBC), then come summer time we'd get a stern talking to if we were home and forgot to record the old Dark Shadows, that came on daily at 11am. Darn you Sci-Fi Channel.

1966 Cast

Of course I want to call Mom and tell her the news. I obviously humble about this and demand she thank me in advance for what I'm about to tell her. It goes like this:


"Mom I'm about to make your day. Now say thank you. "(She humors me and thanks me)
"Ready to relive your childhood? Hold your breath."
"Why?"
"Just hold your breath." She doesn't.
"They are making Dark Shadows a movie." She gasps.
"Oh really?"
"Yeah. Really."
"But, why?"


I wish I could tell you but who cares.

The New New Dark Shadows

The movie promises to be good. If I ever go out to a movie again, instead of waiting for it to show up on iTunes, I might review it. It has a serious cast. Clearly Tim Burton means business here. Dude, it has Michelle Pfiefer, obviously Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter, also a bunch of other great actors and actresses. I heard on the Dark Shadows fan page that they even  managed to get some of the original cast to make appearances in the movie.  I kind of can't wait to see this.


Sadly I have to log on to work the phones so I don't have time to link the fan page to this post. I will have to get to that another time and do some editing. But for those people who just have to make a comparison here's Johnny Depp vs. Jonathan Frid, who makes a better Barnabus Collins???

Flash Fiction is out, and it's chilling

The Flash Fiction for this week is out. came out about an hour ago. Thank you Madison Woods here's the picture:




And here's my contribution:

She'd been jammed under this little crevice for three days. It was cramped and full of dirt and rocks. The only fresh air came from the hole. The corrugated tin rattled when ever something large was near it.

The man who stuffed her in here didn't care if she screamed. In fact he told her to scream all she liked. The noise would only make him more excited.

"Help ain't coming, you sinner. God is the only one who can save you."

That was before he broke her ankles. Through the hole he fed her funny tasting food that made her sleepy and he personally forced water down her parched throat at least twice a day.

He was keeping her alive, but why? 

Don't forget Miss Woods and the Fictioneers are on Twitter. Join in the party.

Mouth-gasmic Meatloaf

So me and Occupy Couch were outside smoking and I said I think I want to make a meatloaf. His eyes widen (pretty hard to so since he's Korean/Black) like I just told him a very sexy man was going to jump out of a cake.


I said I should make one because the meatloaf would last at least two days. Trying to save money you know, my pay check was really small this pay period. He's all for it, turns out Occupy Couch loves meatloaf. Personally I hate meatloaf, it's always super dry the second day.


So we start discussing ways to make said meatloaf edible and I figured carrots, and onions, and maybe an egg. Off to the kitchen I go, I'm still brainstorming a meatloaf but I make it work. Why is making  meatloaf so involved? Well because it's deceptively easy to make. In fact it's so easy that if you don't pay attention you can ruin meatloaf. You really can, I've done it. It was a long time ago but it is one of the reasons why I,  man I just don't like it. I started with the onions. These onions are so strong that I started crying after I took the peel off. I have to get Occupy to wipe my eyes so I could finish chopping them up. He claims its the weather. I've lived in super humid areas my whole life that I haven't had the full impact of an onion. (you know it sounded better coming out his mouth, than me writing it here)


Flash forward to done and I'm kind of hungry. I've been playing the Girl 6 deal all freaking day. Yes even while making my meatloaf. And it's time for a taste test. Occupy Couch is super excited to try it so we have a small slice each. I have seriously outdone myself. It's actually good, the carrots keep it moist, the onions gave it flavor, and the sauce I made out of salsa ketchup dried orange peel and Parmesan cheese totally rocked.


Too bad it was so small. Occupy ate most of it, so now we are back to square one with us having to figure out what to eat for dinner tomorrow. At least he saved me a slice. Oh and he mentioned it on Facebook.


I guess I'm famous?


Oh and I had my first twofer today. I love repeat customers, love them, because they pay my bills, but I had a client call me back twice in one day. While I was making the meatloaf, then again while I was making some potatoes later this afternoon.  If all my days were like this I'd never have to worry about budgeting my meals.


Now that the kitchen is dirty I'm going to see if I can get Occupy to wash the dishes, he had two servings he better. And then I can focus on the rest of Chapter six. It's coming along. Instead of one guy disobeying the rule I'm making it a group thing. In this I'm pulling from my own experience in the Military. Being bad is always better with a partner. In this case its three of them. Nothing solidifies a friendship like landing in shi*t together. I hope I can tie it in to the rest of the story. I'll be ecstatic.

How I kill time working.

I've been getting the same question a lot lately: If you can't write anything right now, then what are you doing while you're working the phone?


You're not going to believe this. I crochet hats, lots of them.  I've made seven of them in the last month. the most of them in the last two weeks. Depending oh how long I'm logged on I bang out one from start to finish. I mean I could clean my house, or bake cookies or something else  while I work since I can't write, but this is productive, to an extent.

This one is my favorite

Occupy Couch's Favorite

 

Looks like a fiery Jelly Fish

 So now that I have engaged my Susie Homemaker I need to figure out what to do with all the hats I'm making. My buddy who's doing the  "Occupy Movement" (occupy my couch) says I should sell them. Now there's a novel idea.  So here are my hats if you want one they are $9 + shipping.
 
And yes you'd be supporting my  latest nervous tick. You could look at it this way; my house would be less cluttered if you took these babies off my hands. Think of them as things that can be gifted and re gifted at Christmas. If you're interested leave me a comment and I'll figure out a way to get one to you.


Another way I like to think of this, is that I have an outlet for my stunted creativity. That I can't write does not stop the need to make something, I'm sure that when I get out my funk I'll drop this hat none-sense and get down to serious business.


For now the yarn sustains me.


Good news is that I have found a new angle in Chapter six that I want to explore. I'm convinced that creating a little insubordination might move the story along. I'm going to use one of the minor characters. In fact the character was so minor that I forgot that he existed. I had to check an earlier chapter to make sure I had one to spare. He was in the first chapter too. I am a mess.


I hope this gets me past this hump.