I got tagged today. No, really, I was walking down the street and a guy came up to me with a Sharpie, and wrote something on my head. When I tried to protest that he was invading my personal space, he wrote something else.
When I stopped off for coffee, I saw the markings of my ink-happy assailant on the barista and several of the patrons.
GRUMPY was scrawled on the boy who handed me a cup of latte. PIMPLES was also written across his cheek. I thought it best not to ask him to read my tags in case he wanted me to reciprocate.
I couldn't find anyone with less insulting tags, so I looked in the side mirror of a car that had ROAD-HOGGING DEATH MACHINE spray-painted on it and saw what the psycho thought of me.
It read ETTENURB in block letters. Not even a note of my new blonde highlights! Dismayed, I saw I'd been given a mustache of ink, which appeared to spell out YSOIN.
Ysoin? I'll give him Ysoin!
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
I Love The Smell Of Marker In The Morning
Thursday, December 24, 2009
When Ho-Ho-Ho Met Po-Po
An idea for a 100 Word Stories Weekly Challenge story fell from the sky onto my head like a face-hugging alien that wanted to go do some good in the world but as all misunderstood things find out, sneaking around dressed funny is frowned upon in modern culture. I DON'T KNOW WHY.
The theme for the challenge was Hat, and this is what I pulled out:
One December, I forget how long ago, a hat fell from the sky, right in front of me. It was one of those freaky red and white ones the guys at the mall wear when they get sadistic and want to be peed on by hysterical kids.
At first I was worried a bunch of reindeer poop was going to follow, but it never did.
I didn't know what to do with the hat, so I took it home and now every year I wear it while sneaking into kid's rooms to give them books and coats. I get arrested.
The whole hat rack is here for your head-hugging entertainment.
Have a good one, kids. Never lose the wonder.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
What's That Smell?
It's been a while since I took part in the 100 Word Stories Weekly Challenge, right? Time flies when you're...throwing clocks out the window.
The theme Smoke came up, and like the early, good challenge entries, this one would not leave me until I wrote it down.
Don't smoke, she told me. She doused me in gasoline, told me the next cigarette would be my last.
I put arsenic in her donuts. She locked herself in the bathroom for three days.
I offered her a truce. I'd take her out to eat if she let me take a shower.
How could I know she'd been hooking up the bathroom plumbing to a tank of acid?
As I soaked in the cooking oil she was so fond of drinking, I told her she'd have to find another man.
"Did that five months ago," she said, lighting a match.
I wonder sometimes if these are the same characters from Hmmmmmmmmmmm and Over The Falls In A Barrel, or if they all live on the same block, and if they do, should a wall be built around their neighborhood so they can't get out and breed with anyone else. Not that many of them really need to worry about that, being all burnt and mangled in so many delightful ways.
The smoking section is hopping and can be heard, read AND smelled here.
Tuesday, December 01, 2009
A NaNoWriMo Winnar Is Me!
Once again proving to myself that avoiding most of the Internet allows me to write entire books, I hit 50k words on my twelve-year-old tale of something nasty coming to the town with the busted up but otherwise lovely saloon around 5:12-ish (and 36 seconds) in the early evening of November 30, which is the last day to win the NaNoWriMo goodies.
Short version: I won NaNoWriMo!
Then I kept going. The story is nowhere near done, as usual, and there will need to be many revisions, but I've got enough love for the story and the people in it--who no longer exist solely in my head, OMG--to see this one through. Tomorrow I get a code for a free printing of the book, and I've never used the other two codes I was given, and where love for the story fails, being pissed off that I lost out on free stuff should also get the third act of this thing written.
While I'm off doing that, why not see some completed and awesome Old West horror goodness by a Tom Waits fan who is not me? Go read High Moon by David Gallaher & Steve Ellis. It's so good I put off writing the story I just won NaNoWriMo with for a year because why would anyone want to read my words when High Moon exists? WITH SUCH PRETTY PICTURES.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
NaNoWriMoWordcount -- Week 4
The coffee needs refreshing, I've been on the floor a few times, but I get back up and keep going, just like always.
I've written nearly 40,000 words and yes, I drew the header images for each of these posts. It's one of those things I do. It's one of those things I enjoy doing, like writing. I wish someone would pay me to draw things and write so I could resent my gifts and feel like a sell-out.
NaNoWriMo ends, unbelievably, when November ends. Monday. That will give me one day to make up the words I didn't write from tomorrow until the weekend. Not that I haven't done that twice before.
Happy frikkin' national overeating days!
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Pork?
Yes, yes, I'm writing my NaNoWriMo epic. But so are a lot of the gang from the 100 Word Stories Weekly Challenge and when Crap Mariner called for NaNoWriMo links I was like, "I WAS RAISED TO BRING A DISH TO PARTIES!"
The theme for this week's challenge was Stuffing, and the week before that was Mystery Ingredient, so I combined them both with a dash of people. Wait, did I just give it away?
My grandmother's stuffing is legendary, brings all the grown men in my family to tears!
One Thanksgiving, my wife--new to the tasty taste sensation--tried to guess what the little morsels of juicy deliciousness scattered throughout the cornbread were.
"Pork?"
"Family secrets!" is all she ever says. It's funny, but the year she confessed that to my wife, Grampa Jed burst into tears.
She's never revealed her mystery ingredient, although I think my uncles figured it out a while ago. Strangely enough, once they work out the recipe, no one wants to eat it anymore.
More for me!
Yes, yes, I know, in 1986 my cousin and I nearly wiped out the bowl of Nan's pork stuffing. That's not what this story is about.
The entire line of Stove Top substitutes can be heard here, and you'll never know I didn't read my own story. YOU'LL JUST HAVE TO LISTEN TO FIND OUT WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
NaNoWriMoWordcount -- Week 3
Can't sleep, words will eat me. And there are so many words. so far.
Oh, who cares if I'm sleeping? No one! Who cares if I've had another bout of being me to the extreme and am still itching from it? The exact number is zero people! That's not what this post is about. Look at my impressive number of words I'm not about to go posting on the Internet for anyone to steal. Whoo.
That number and all this jive here is the most I've written in this blog for like, a month, and if you don't believe me, It's like a sneak preview of things you have to look forward to under a row of most-used bookmarks you can use to judge me! Wow.
This is what happens when I start writing novels. I cease giving a flip about blogging. I like fiction, in fiction I can dismember asshats and have the good guys win once in a while.
Here's another song I love that totally has stuff to do with my book. Enjoy.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
NaNoWriMoWordcount -- Week 2
Week two of NaNoWriMo and I'm guess I'm still writing, because there are more words in the wordcount. I'm not sure how many because I actually scheduled this post in October when I drew the drawings and if you're reading this bit it means I didn't get here in time to write a proper wordcount.
Today is historically not a great day for me. But it's Tuesday and that's when my blog posts go up. Must stay on schedule. Must stick to the plan of keeping my personal life out of things.
If I'm sticking to my outline, I should be up to writing a bit about guy who serves drinks and saves the world. Not saying my main characters are based on anyone or anything...I mean it's not like he gets on the bar and starts singing...yet.
Tuesday, November 03, 2009
NaNoWriMoWordcount -- Week 1
Ah yes, National Novel Writing Month is upon us again and even that extra hour over the weekend can't guarantee I'll hit 50,000 words by the 30th. I'm at word 2302 in Black Heart of Mine, the story I shouldn't call the vampire western that came to me in 1997 and has patiently waited for me to realize I needed to write it down to make it count. It...might not have a vampire anymore. It might suck, though! BAHAHAHAHA! Hrm.
I'm excited about getting back into NaNoWriMo, though, because writing fiction is far more preferable to me these days.
Anyone interested in stalking me there can do so by clicking here, and I'd bitch about no one ever being my buddy over there but I'm writing and don't really give a flip who friends me at a place where all I do is give wordcounts.
Much like what I'll be doing here this month.
That's more than a hundred words that could have gone to better use. See you next week, bloggy!
Meanwhile, here's the song that provided me with a desperately needed working title:
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Hundreds of Halloween Haunty Words
What's this?! Two posts in one day? SPOOOOOOOOKY! The 100 Word Stories Weekly Challenge goes up on Saturday, and...do I need to do these intros?
The theme for this week's challenge was Halloween! And everyone wrote stories for Halloween! Because it's Halloween!
My favorite time of year! I'm not allowed to enjoy the company of children any other day, but on Halloween there's an endless supply, and always more follow to enjoy my special treats.
I can't give you my recipe, it's a family secret, handed down from my great-great-great-grandmammy Wanda. She escaped the old country with only the shawl on her back and a girl scout under her skirt. Very misunderstood woman. She loved children! Loved to make them cookies. Just like me!
Don't be shy, kiddies, have another cookie! Watch your fingers! Wouldn't want them to break!
Prepare to get your pants scared off by spooktacular freaky fest here!
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Clomb: The Undead
What day is it?! NO! It's not Thursday, it's 100 Word Stories day! Whoo!
The theme for this week's challenge was Peace, and if you've read this blog of mine long enough I probably don't have to tell you where my story came from.
No, really, there's a mountaineering term for n00b: Gumby.
I was told I might die.
Might.
Everyone dies, what's the big deal? Not everyone finds peace. That thought scared me all the way to this mountain.
Forty minutes into the climb my muscles hurt so bad I almost believed everyone who told me I couldn't do this, and I wanted to hate them but I was too busy. After my lungs stopped burning I started to feel hungry. Eventually that passed, too.
When I reached the top, an old man greeted me.
"What took you so long?"
Too tired to do anything but laugh, we sat watching the sunset.
Many versions of peace can be found here, and this week features the last story (for now) by Guy David, who is an awesome writer and musician and if you haven't heard his music it's at GuyDavid.com and now you have no excuse not to go listen to some good music.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
She is Mad, and If She Lives to An Old Age She Will Sink Further Into Madness. Or something.
The 100 Word Stories Weekly Challenge makes me do crazy things.
Like this week, when the theme was Crushed, I...pulled out the illegitimate lovechild of a Jane Austen character who lives in my head.
Dearest Eliza,
As I'm sure you recall, our cousin Jack has been undertaking the peculiar task of collecting bits of thread for the past seven years, and I am grateful to you for your contribution of the clippings from your pantaloons, however I must report the tragic news that our dear cousin was crushed beneath his great ball of fibers this past Thursday.
Do not grieve, as Jack prized your threads above all others and had little interest in anything save that hideous tangle. Had he not rejected my advances I would have happier news for you.
Regretfully yours,
Gertrude
The total carnage can be heard and read here. Go now before my great ball of fibers crushes you like a tragic Indiana Jones outtake.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Being For The Benefit Of Mr. Crap Mariner
The creator of 100 Word Stories is an amazing storyteller. He says he'll write one story a day until he dies, and I hope he has a lot more stories in him.
The theme for this week's challenge was Forty, because that's how many years Crap Mariner's had to put up with the fleshy humans. Knowing this didn't help me write a better story, in fact I went through a record number of rejected takes on this before my inner emcee took over and turned a character based on the man who made me read my own stories again into...King Kong? Hey, I liked King Kong and thought the humans just out for entertainment who didn't expect Kong to be himself deserved to be shaken up.
Come one, come all, gather 'round and see the clockwork kid, the wonder of the modern age! Built by robots on a faraway island forty years ago, a group of opportunistic pirates couldn't let a good thing go to waste so they brought him here, to entertain you! Wind him up and he'll weave you a unique tale guaranteed to blow your mind!
You’ll be dazzled by his wit! You’ll marvel as he interacts with the fiercest of jungle cats! You’ll drool over his delicious bread!
Run, don’t walk! Don't even wait for the bus! Witness the magnificent clockwork kid!
The whole party can be read and heard here, and you really ought to have podcasting.isfullofcrap.com in your RSS reader by now.
Thursday, October 08, 2009
And Now It's Time For A Breakdown
I haven't been doing so great. 100 Word Stories' weekly challenge time is not bitching time, but last week happy time and bitchy time intersected spectacularly when my Internet died repeatedly, making work back up and cut into my getting-of-the-topic, writing, and submitting time. Yes, I only have five minutes of free time.
I guess what I'm trying to tell you is I wrote something not great for Wings. I could have gone on at great length about birds, I could've had another Paul McCartney adventure, but for some reason I wrote about something I've never drank in my life.
Red Bulls are so good, I drank a hundred of them and I didn't get wings, but I cleaned my gutters and I didn't even need a ladder to get to the roof, I just jumped! Then I helped change a tire by totally ripping off the tire, and then I threw the tire, and the tire flew all the way across town to the dump and killed a hobo, but I don't feel bad about that--I can't feel anything but pure unadulterated caffeine rushing through my veins, busting up my brain and I think I'm having a heartattack!
I only said I never drank a Red Bull, I didn't say I've never felt like that. I totally clean my gutters all by myself fueled only by Folgers and a deep-seated rage for the gits who put up the gutters without a downspout near the corner where the pine needles collect. Also, I know nothing of hobo clobberings.
Read and listen to my crazy going on and far more focused tales here. The speed at which I read my story is the only thing that saves it.
Thursday, October 01, 2009
The Shadow Toast
The 100 Word Stories' weekly challenge usually brings out brand new stories.
True, my offering for the double themes of Magic Toaster and Who Knows? was written out in a new way for the challenge, but this one is part of something else, something bigger, something really really old.
Life was never the same for Alex after his brother was poisoned by their father. He kept to himself a lot before then, but after his brother began communicating through the toaster, things turned around.
At first he tried to convince himself there was nothing magic about the toaster, he’d been drinking the first time it spoke, maybe he was developing schizophrenia, who knows? Sure, he'd like to do what the toaster told him and throw it in the tub with dad, but it made great toast. Browned evenly, not too burnt. It didn’t even need to be plugged in.
All 11 stories are popping up here, full of mystery and buttery crunch.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Yo-Ho, Yo-Ho, A Pirate's Challenge For Ye!
Ahoy mateys! The 100 Word Stories' weekly challenge were overtaken by pirates!
The theme were Pirates!
Pirates were all about, and a bit o' the themes chose by shanty maker Guy David and yours truly.
It be a hard life for Capn' Swallow since the international shanty composers began demandin' royalties. He near lost his ship after we were caught playin' Barnacles, Me Hearties without askin'. Askin’ Two-Legged Davy if ye can sing his songs t’ain’t a wise move if ye hope to live another day.
I understand why the captain had to run me through five times afore setting me out to sea. There be sharks circling me leaky dingy lookin’ friendlier than the last face I saw. No matter, I got me parrot, a bottle o'grog, and me harmonica. I'll survive. Probably.
The whole crew be assembled 'ere, and if ye've ne'er listened to the podcast,
Thursday, September 17, 2009
I Like Peas.
One other thing I did on 09/09/09 was write the first draft of my 100 Word Stories' weekly challenge story.
Only I wrote it...with a pen. On paper. I don't write like that. Not since 1989, anyway. But I got an idea for Peas On A Pod and all I had within reach was a pen, a bit of paper...and of course blood, but that wasn't necessary this week.
No, I'm not going to make you read that. After all, I edited it five more times before I submitted this:
That airplane flying over reminds me of a nice man I met who was supposed to become the first man to fly to Mars. He had to turn back on account of broken facilities, and was called Pete "Pees In A Pod" Carter from then on.
Me an' Jenny were like peas in a pod, 'cept we weren’t green an' we didn't grow out of the ground. Well, Jenny's in the ground now, but it wasn't like you could serve us with shrimp. I like shrimp. Shrimp's like peas 'cause you gotta pull the strings out before you eat 'em....
Yes, that was meant to be Forrest "Table Tennis Hero" Gump. I read the story in a voice that sounded nothing like Forrest Gump, but never mind that, we totally got shrimp with the "veins" still intact from the Chinese place up the street. Seriously, if I ate shrimp that would have freaked me out even more than it freaked out the people who did eat it, and they've sworn off shrimp now. Shrimp shouldn't have the same air of mystery that a box of chocolates has, although the vegetarian who lives in my head hasn't stopped laughing yet.
The digest of all ten stories can be read and heard here, and just like I eat all my peas, you should read ALL the stories before voting. Listening's even better.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
For The Birds
I write several of my offerings for the 100 Word Stories' weekly challenge in the shade of a tree, you know.
Having won again with the magical barrel of doom story, the next theme--On The Line--was also chosen by me. I had a reason.
They look like little music notes, don't they?
Look at them down there fiddling with their shiny things--totally not real blackberries, by the way. Harvey chipped his beak on one of those things in April and he hasn't been the same since.
They think they're tweeting? They don't know the first thing about tweeting! When we sit up here on the line, we're one with the whole world, able to send out the alarm for worm sightings or where to get bread with one sound.
Well, here comes what you get for not looking up and admiring the bird over your head!
HA! I just pooped.
...I wonder if the birds in that photo will be all, "MY PHOTOS ARE ON THE INTERNET! CHECK IT OUT!"
Ah, I love Twitter. I miss Twitter. By total coincidence I haven't had time for Twitter since writing this. I'm on Twitter, you know. I'm a twit.
All the lines can be heard and read here.
Thursday, September 03, 2009
The Lead Up To Many Craigslist Listings
I've said it before and I'll say it every time I write something my peers deem worthy of voting for, I only take part in the 100 Word Stories' weekly challenge to keep my mind working, not to win.
The sappy puppet story won. All by itself. I didn't even vote for it! True enough I didn't thoroughly hate that one after reading it over and over but it's still humbling to have the other writers vote for me, because the other writers are consistently GOOD. The winner of the previous week gets to pick the topic of the next challenge, so naturally when I fired up Google reader last week and saw the next theme was A Full Set my brain went totally blank and stayed that way for several days. I will not elaborate further if exposure to UV rays were partially responsible.
The story I ended up writing was...nasty.
Call me obsessed, but my completionist mentality has served me well. I put myself through school by selling my comic book collection, my original redline Hot Wheels paid for my first real car, my house was paid for with stamps, and the early marketing for my home business was financed by scalping Star Wars figures on the Internet.
I think selling my rookie Babe Ruth card to buy identical implants and veneers for all of my girlfriends was a poor investment, though, because all I got in return was a full set of sexually transmitted diseases. Who would want that?
Scientists, perhaps. Hmm. Hey yeah, maybe this guy can get together with the broad from Hmmmmmmmmmmm! Maybe he DID. *sigh* I do enjoy the lowbrow humor a bit too much.
The full set of challengers can be read and heard here. Read, listen, enjoy, laugh, cry, get grossed out, hear the puppet give an acceptance speech that exposes me for the sock-buying charlatan that I am.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
WHEEEEEEEEEEE! *crack*
My weekly routine of finding out the topic for the next 100 Word Stories' weekly challenge and then writing a story had a twist this week.
The topic was Over The Falls In A Barrel, and I got a rather devious comeuppance tale in my head right away.
I killed my fifth husband on our wedding night. You know how it is.
To cover it up, I thought I'd take him to Niagara, do the whole traditional over the falls bit. People die doing that all the time.
The hippie by the side of the road guaranteed his magic barrel would change my life. Didn't tell me it would bring that old bastard back from the dead and keep me from dying when we hit the rocks. The doctor tells me I'll probably be like this for the rest of my life. My husband visits me every day.
Only...originally it was a little too close to the whole thing with that guy from Megan Wants A Millionaire, but I didn't know that because I don't watch that kind of news willingly. So I rewrote the whole thing so it would be less awkward. The story ended up feeling awkward to me in other ways, but the good news is if you go listen to the podcast and hear me talking about the dude outside my house with the neon pink bag, he eventually went away and I don't think he had any body parts in the bag.
The whole barrel of 10 tales can be heard here.