Songs of My Misspent Youth: Eye Of The Tiger

My cousin Rob (who turns old enough for me not to say) rarely liked my music. Most likely because he was not a girl. However, he did introduce me to Men At Work, and Eye Of The Tiger by Survivor. Back in the olden days before Internet, he got it into his head to tape the theme off the end of Rocky III as the movie was ending on HBO one weekend. He fell asleep, but I taped the song. It was so cool. The tape ran out before the end. That...wasn't as cool.

While I could say I've spent the rest of my life trying to atone for that, music isn't so much I WILL NEVER HEAR IT AGAIN anymore and now when I hear this song I think of how Z-100 used to play good music and maybe I was kind of a bitch as a child but all that dims when watching the official video for this song and being blinded by '80s eightiesness. Wow. There are laws about taking up a whole sidewalk like that, guys.

Songs of My Misspent Youth: Eye Of The Tiger

Avast Ye!

Ahoy mateys, me post-a-day week be drawin' to an end and still I ehn't caught up on me past 100 Word Stories' weekly challenge tales.

Challenge #159 were Telescope, and ye see where this be goin' already, don't ye?

Avast ye, an' hear the tale o' eggheaded Iggy, the pegleg o' Kitt Peak.

'Twere last year'n he joined our crew, keepin' mostly to hisself, never partakin' o' the grog nor goin' ashore fer love. The day he swapped the Cap'n's spyglass with a "Six-inch Newtonian reflector," we gave 'im a right flogging afore makin' him walk the plank clutchin' his fancy equipment.

Only afterwards we found the ship were fitted with warpin' drives o' some kind. None o' me buckos knew how to work the thing an’ that's how we come to land 'ere on this frozen rock, Triton.

...Triton, ye see, is an icy moon. I be a scurvy egghead.

To hear my bizarre pirate voice and crappy mic technique, as well as 11 other focal lengths of telescope, click here.

Avast Ye!

Orange

Realizing I'll probably need to go a-post-a-day next week as well to really catch up on my entries for the 100 Word Stories' weekly challenge has only made me feel less like my life has been a waste.

Challenge #158 was Knock Knock, and anyone who remembers that annoying little nine-year-old with the book of knock-knocks probably expected me to do just fine on this one.

However...I never told one like this in real life. I swear. Puppies are dangerous, anyway.

Oh yeah, and the joke ties into the previous week's theme, so you need to go listen to that if you haven't already to fully get why I use a very bad word indeed THREE TIMES.

"Why is the sky blue?"

"I don't know, probably some mysterious cosmic coloring, like eggs."

"What about eggs?"

"Well, they're yellow and no one knows why."

"The chickens know, but we ate them!"

"That’s right sweetie! All beat up with a little mayo! You're so smart!"

"I got a joke!"

"Let's hear it!"

"Knock knock!"

"Who's there?"

"Two dogs fucking!"

"Honey, that’s not really something you should say for another fifteen years at least."

"YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO SAY TWO DOGS FUCKING WHO?!"

"Okay, okay...two dogs fucking who?"

"You."

"Wha--ARGH!"

"You're silly!"

"Get them off me!"

"I want a puppy!"

To hear me humor myself, as well as 15 much better stories, click here.

A little behind-the-scenes trivia to this one, I had spent about an hour looking for the legendary microphone I know I have, but was in the middle of spring allergy hell '09 week one, and eventually gave up and read it into the camera again, cursing the tinnitus as helpfully as possible. Then I remembered where I keep the mic. There's a tag on Twitter known as FML. Yeah. Oh yeah. It doesn't mean FailMicLynda, either, but being I've already used that particular one of the seven words you can't say a lot in this post, I'll leave it as an acronym.

Orange

For Once, Tetris Never Occured To Me.

I'm nearing only a mere three weeks behind in my reposts of my entries for the 100 Word Stories' weekly challenge!

The theme for challenge #157 was Falling Bricks Hurt, and I seriously considered not even going near that. But then this happened:

A 58-year-old man from Brooklyn with no prior arrests and no evidence of drug or alcohol dependency was transferred from police custody to the state mental institution after being arrested for disturbing the peace and complaining of auditory hallucinations.

Employed as a bulldozer operator for 30 years, the patient reported hearing screams from the site of a recent demolition. He was found attempting to rearrange rubble, excitedly repeating apologies and insisting the bricks must be reunited.

Prognosis looks bleak as the patient won't stop trying to introduce the concrete blocks in his cell long enough to take medication.

All 13 unlucky tales can be read and heard here, and because the neighbors really were having a good time in the yard, I didn't record my own story, but the midget Laurence Simon keeps on hand for that did the job wonderfully, although I think a cattle prod may have been involved.

For Once, Tetris Never Occured To Me.

Nicholas Sparks Will Have To Kill Me For This Story

Another day, another entry for the 100 Word Stories' weekly challenge!

Challenge #156 was The Stinking Rose, and having seen Nacho Libre earlier that week I first thought of a wrestler intro, but then the usual pains in the ass that live in my head started getting noisy and this is what they made me write:

My wife, bless her, was such a romantic. You'd never know it to look at her when she'd start throwing things and feeding me stuff to aggravate my gout, but she always went on about this rose some guy gave her on their first date.

On our fortieth anniversary, I bought a rose and put it right in the middle of the bed for her to find. She never mentioned it. I just figured I got it wrong.

When the movers took the washing machine what do you think was on the floor with all the lint? That stinkin' rose.

This sad tale and 15 other variations on the theme are all here, and man do I pile on the New York accent in my reading. Then I dissolve into explaining my story because I'd recently been too close to density, killer of subtle plots.

Nicholas Sparks Will Have To Kill Me For This Story

What's Black, White, & Red & Has Trouble Going Through A Revolving Door?

The backlog of my entries for the 100 Word Stories' weekly challenges is starting to bother me, like how I guess people who still have to catch up on Battlestar Galactica would be bothered if I made Restaurant At The End Of The Universe jokes, so I'm going to post a story a day this week and that oughta square it away.

The theme for challenge #155 was Rusty Steel, something I have a lot of experience with, eh? No, I didn't bring that up, I went totally another way.

"Excuse me sir, are you Hattori Hanzo?"

"No."

"With all due respect, sir, I was here when that lady came in here before and--"

"Yeah, alright, it’s me! What do you want?"

"Well, sir, I was wondering if you could do anything about this sword?"

"Oh...what have you done to it? This is not a disposable weapon, you fool! It is a work of art! My steel must be treated with respect! Oiled, cleaned, kept...out of certain things. Tell me, how did it get into this state?"

"It's really hard to shower with a sword through my head, sir."

The nun with a spear through her head joke always used to crack me up.

To hear my horrible Sonny Chiba impression and 8 other swashbucklers go listen to the challenge and beware the six-fingered man!

What's Black, White, & Red & Has Trouble Going Through A Revolving Door?

Songs of My Misspent Youth: Is Your Love Strong Enough

Through U68, I discovered Is Your Love Strong Enough? by Bryan Ferry with David Gilmour. It was from some movie, apparently. I saw Legend eventually but the song, played over and over for two hours, makes me much happier.

Don't touch unicorns, kids, no matter how fuzzy you think they'll be. Bad things will happen, and I realize Tim Curry is awesome and all, but I love unicorns more. Unicorns and this song. I used to roller skate, you know. I tried skating backwards one time while this song was on but I fell, hurt my back for all eternity, and I STILL love this song.

Songs of My Misspent Youth: Is Your Love Strong Enough

Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap

Yeah. I made that. Click it, it'll take you this video I made too.

Took me long enough to get around to. Five years, give or take a few months.

Ten years ago today, though, Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace premiered. I hear that took longer to create but it gave me enough good times to get me to this point in life, and now you'll all have to sit through four more minutes of Sithly gloriousness to witness the vision that just would not die.

It all goes back to the fall of 2004. I was spending a lot of time walking kittens and listening to K-Rock. AC/DC figured heavily into their playlists, and I had high fevers, the highest of which was the Star Wars pandemic. I'd exiled myself from most of the Internet to avoid spoilers for Revenge Of The Sith but then Lucasfilm's own Back In Black sneak preview tied AC/DC to SW for all eternity and an idea was formed. Among other things. Porkins destroying the Death Star to T.N.T. was actually the baby brother of the idea of Dirty Deeds, but like Star Wars itself, these things get made in the order technology allows.

My list of people I'd like to thank would be longer than the video itself, but odds are if you're reading all this you know you had a hand in giving me the will to see it through to completion. A right hand, in fact. Sorry about slicing it off. *ahem* ;)

Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap

Songs of My Misspent Youth: Duel Of The Fates

Ten years.

I spent a lot of time reading the novelization of The Phantom Menace while listening to the soundtrack before the fabled Episode I of Star Wars even opened. I...did shady things to hear Duel Of The Fates as soon as it came out. I had made up my mind I would love the movie and was not disappointed. Episode I was a highlight of my turn of the century, and there are few memories untouched by Star Wars from that time on.

It was time well spent.

Songs of My Misspent Youth: Duel Of The Fates

Tonight I Shall Tell You Of My Time In The Tower

Back when I got the idea to post my offerings for the 100 Word Stories' weekly challenges, this was the current theme. That gives you an idea of how...I'll never catch up. Unless I die or something, and then you'll just have to find the page on your own.

The theme was Howl at the moon, I demand a recount, The fencing master, Matzo tower, The end is near. It was the bastard lovechild of a five-way tie for most votes (none of which were mine, not that I'm hinting anything, my loyal readers) and I thought I'd be so clever and combine all those elements into one story.

When I was young the local fencing master paid my family twenty dollars to take me off their hands, shutting me away in a tower made of matzo to keep me pure. It had no shower.

On an expedition to procure a rare foil, the crazy bastard was bitten by a werewolf who had taken a fancy to me. Ten years without a shower has its consequences.

So you see, that's why I'm eating my way out of this place. They’ll be arguing over who scored more hits until the moon goes dark, I've had it with both of them.

As it turned out I was not the only one with that idea, but that just makes me feel like less of a freak. Go listen to the challenge and read 18 other stories by 10 other writers. Magnificence.

Tonight I Shall Tell You Of My Time In The Tower

Isn't It Iconic?

"It's like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife."
Alanis Morrisette - Ironic

Okay, if all that crap she sings about in the song isn't ironic, what the hell is it? I haven't ever called anything ironic ever for 13 years because of the whole grammar police implosions caused by that song.

What is this thing called when you die from doing something you're afraid to do, other than shite luck?

Have at it. I do read the comments as soon as they come in, even if I seem to take months to reply.

Isn't It Iconic?

Songs of My Misspent Youth: Something About You

If there was any doubt I'm babbling on and on week after week about my life, the appearance of Level 42's biggest worldwide hit, Something About You should clear up the confusion.

This song changed my life. It's been twenty-three years since the first time I heard it, but every time I hear it it's a spring day--a nice one, not the overheated garbage we've had lately--and I have a song I love on the radio. A song I'd be willing to fight for, even. There is so much going on in this song you can hear something new on every listen.

I was obsessed with the video, too. I made a Barbie-sized yellow plaid suit, that's how obsessed I was. I started reading Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy because in an interview Mark King mentioned the name of the band came from that book. The good parts of 1986 all seem to involve listening to Level 42 and reading Douglas Adams.

The misspent part comes from where I didn't go ahead and write all the stuff I wanted to back then. What else was I doing, re-arranging my closet? Yeah, that was worthwhile. Pfft.

Again, embedding's been disabled so you'll need to go watch it here if you want to. You want to, trust me.

Songs of My Misspent Youth: Something About You

Off The Shallow End

Oh ho ho, I still have stories I sent in for 100 Word Stories' weekly challenges!

As March ended the theme was Swimming in De Nile. I had three ways I was going on this, as is my usual way of doing everything, but in this case I picked one and saw it through to completion, because I'm so good at finishing things when I lay off everything else I make myself sick!

Other ways this could have gone involved an Amelia Peabody-like adventure and just talking really dumb. Not a stretch for me. Here's what I went with:

In the summer of 1927 I was part of an expedition to uncover the lost temple of Sobek-Ra, the crocodile god of Egypt. It was hot inside the tombs, but it was even hotter outside. At the end of the day we’d wash the sand and sweat off in the river, ignoring the warnings of the locals about what lay beneath the surface. I was the only only one to survive.

I still hear the sound when I try to sleep. Those days were called the roaring
twenties for a reason, just not the reason anyone wants to admit.

Whoo, spooky! Hear me read it and wade into 10 other tales here.

Off The Shallow End

Boot To The Head

People of Internet, what is this thing you call rebooting? I read sometimes about "first reboot in X days" or "had to reboot today." Like it's some rare thing.

On my planet, I've turned my damn computer off every damn night for the past 25 years. When I'm not using it, it GOES OFF. For good measure, I turn the power strip off, too. If I had it my way that thing that goes around in the electric meter would be at a standstill while I slept (never mind that I can't sleep, pretend it's a simile to rebooting my mind.)

I also unplug my printer/scanner/telectroscope when I'm not using it.

When I die, I'll let you know how much money I saved.

Boot To The Head

Songs of My Misspent Youth: Love & Pride

Love & Pride by King. Not Queen, not Prince, not even Princess, who had a hit in the '80s called Say I'm You're Number One. King.

It was one of the first videos I saw on U68, the tri-state area's UHF alternative to MTV. U68 became the only station I watched for nearly two years. Sure, I'd flip over to PBS once in a while, but the music U68 played was great. It made me happy, and started me off editing music videos in my head. Man, I had some good ones.

After U68 was sold to the Home Shopping Network and I spiraled into new wave withdrawal, I found WLIR. They played King. A lot. Some twenty years later they still played Love & Pride by King, and I was still listening to it, albeit from the back of my car on the way to have my dog's knee surgery stitches removed. Haven't heard the song much lately, but when it comes on, I know for four minutes or so I'll be hearing something good.

Every copy of the video of YouTube has embedding disabled, so you'll just have to click on over there if you want to see a bunch of kids spray painting their shoes and dancing around to a neat song.

Songs of My Misspent Youth: Love & Pride

Big Whoop, I Did It Again.

I won Script Frenzy again. This time I managed to close all the gaps in the story before hitting 100 pages, therefore actually winning with a full story, which is a first.

This was a weird trip. Before April 1, I had never thought of this story or these characters. I wasn't writing anything, I was in what I can't exactly call a foul mood, but I was floating. Nothing to show for anything. Still don't really have anything to show for it except an awkward 105 pages of someone with memory problems trying to figure out what the hell is going on. Art imitating life, eh?

Like all new stories, I was crazy about it for the first week, I had a buffer that would, if I kept at it, allow me to have weekends free. I can't have plans for the weekends.

For the next two weeks I couldn't have plans either. The buffer went to hell. Being the stubborn sort I went back to the story, writing ten pages a night rather than the suggested three. Then I won.

The story can only be called a first draft because I never did answer why anything happened. But it ended happy. Because I'll be damned if I write anything but happy--if twisted--endings.

Big Whoop, I Did It Again.