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My Secret Admirer – Twenty-One

It’s time for this week’s LOVE LETTERS GONE WRONG secret admirer big reveal! This week we did have a winner, so click the trophy to the right for this week’s winning blogger.

Here’s a recap of Friday’s post as well as my response at the bottom. If you’d like a free copy of my ebook take a guess or send a love letter gone wrong to heellisgoa@gmail.com.

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Maybe it was your name, and how Heellis reminded me of the high heels I fantasized you wearing, or maybe it was the way you smelled as you walked past me, not seeing me hiding behind the flower pot. Whatever it was, I am in love and I want you, even for a minute. I have this ring that it stole from my dead grandmother and I want you to have it, I want you to wear it, forever.

I know you love another, but that can change, anything can change if we want it to. Forget him, I am better, stronger, faster. I am the Bionic man, I am Superman, I am Spider man, I can be your hero if you let me.

As I sit in front of my computer, looking at porn, I think of you and I think of us, and how wonderful it would be if you said yes to a date. Just a date you say, but for me it would be the world. So what if I am 53 and never had a date. I watch movies, I know how to act, even if they don’t believe me. They who work here, and watch me and give me the medications it takes to help me deal with my insanity.

For you I would do anything. For you I would trade this straight jacket for a tuxedo and sweep you off your heels and …I love heels…I am getting sidetracked again, it is like that when the voices in your head talk constantly now where was I? Sweep you off your feet and into my arms.

So what do you say? Do you want to date? Let me know, or better still, let the guards in my cell know that you want to date.

Yours truly,

Sam

***************

Sam,

How touching it is that you care so much. I can tell you are devoted and loyal, and believe me, you will be rewarded. I think it is quite appropriate and fitting that you watch movies, especially porn, which by now should have exposed you to what you will be in for.

By way of a taste of our time together, let me say that while I find the offer of your grandmother’s ring touching, the only ring I will accept from you is the one I want binding your collar closed. Until we are together, please imagine what I have planned, beginning with me oh-so-gently slipping the ball gag into your devoted mouth, cinching it tight, and then whispering in your ear:

“NOW LICK MY FUCKING STILETTOS CLEAN, YOU NASTY LITTLE MAGGOT BITCH!”

I assume you have no aversions to whips given your situation.

Always,

H.e. ELLis

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Posted by  |  May 27, 2012 | Categories: Humor, Love Letters Gone Wrong | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 12 Comments »

Love Letters Gone Wrong – Twenty-One

It’s time for another round of LOVE LETTERS GONE WRONG! Every Friday I feature a LOVE LETTER GONE WRONG submitted by an anonymous blogger. Sunday morning I reveal the secret admirer’s identity with a link to the blogger’s home page. If you’d like to submit some truly heinous love letters please send them to heellisgoa@gmail.com.

This week’s love letter one wrong was written by a blogger who commented on the TOP TEN SPaM post. Check out this post and then return to the comments here to guess who the secret admirer is. The first correct guess wins a free copy of my ebook.

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Maybe it was your name, and how Heellis reminded me of the high heels I fantasized you wearing, or maybe it was the way you smelled as you walked past me, not seeing me hiding behind the flower pot. Whatever it was, I am in love and I want you, even for a minute. I have this ring that it stole from my dead grandmother and I want you to have it, I want you to wear it, forever.

I know you love another, but that can change, anything can change if we want it to. Forget him, I am better, stronger, faster. I am the Bionic man, I am Superman, I am Spider man, I can be your hero if you let me.

As I sit in front of my computer, looking at porn, I think of you and I think of us, and how wonderful it would be if you said yes to a date. Just a date you say, but for me it would be the world. So what if I am 53 and never had a date. I watch movies, I know how to act, even if they don’t believe me. They who work here, and watch me and give me the medications it takes to help me deal with my insanity.

For you I would do anything. For you I would trade this straight jacket for a tuxedo and sweep you off your heels and …I love heels…I am getting sidetracked again, it is like that when the voices in your head talk constantly now where was I? Sweep you off your feet and into my arms.

So what do you say? Do you want to date? Let me know, or better still, let the guards in my cell know that you want to date.

Yours truly,

Sam

Posted by  |  May 25, 2012 | Categories: Humor, Love Letters Gone Wrong | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 15 Comments »

Come Clean H.R. Nightmare

Alright, H.R. you need to come clean here. This was you, right?

Posted by  |  May 23, 2012 | Categories: Humor | Tags: , , , , , , | 10 Comments »

Things You Can’t Unsee – Eight

Due to my working nearly non-stop over the past month I have decided to take this weekend off completely, so Love Letters Gone Wrong and SPaM will resume next week. Instead of blogging I’m just going to kick back, relax, and dance like a maniac in a hotel lobby with Chris Walken.

 

Posted by  |  May 17, 2012 | Categories: Humor, Things You Can't Unsee | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 8 Comments »

My Secret Admirer – Twenty

It’s time for this week’s LOVE LETTERS GONE WRONG secret admirer big reveal! This week we did not have a winner, so click the trophy to the right for a timely post from Edward Hotspur.

Here’s a recap of Friday’s post as well as my response at the bottom. If you’d like a free copy of my ebook take a guess or send a love letter gone wrong to heellisgoa@gmail.com.

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Dear Heloise Ecclesiastes Ellis,

 

I remember the first time I laid eyes on you.  I was in kindergarten.  You wore a blue dress and smelled of huckleberry (I distinctly remember it as huckleberry because even back then I was looking stuff up on Wikipedia).  I moved in closer to admire you as you finger-painted fiery orange and red and black with a yellow stripe running down the middle of the artpaper.  I touched the gauzy film of your petticoat and you punched me in the face, shattering my nose in thirty-two places. It was only later that I realized what a gift that was, as my new proboscis bears an uncanny resemblance to Edward Hotspur’s penis.

 

As we grew older in the small town of Valentine (I’ve always wanted to give you one—a small town, not a Valentine), I realized that even though I could sing and dance, I wasn’t gay enough to keep from wanting you, even after I figured out that you are a woman—a small woman with big breasts and all the energy of a Red Bull factory wired by Nikola Tesla while Benjamin Franklin flies a kite on top of the building with a key attached to the string with a 12 gauge copper wire attached to the key so that when the whole thing electrifies from lightening, it is conducted back to the factory, which is you I think, though I got kind of lost when I started talking about wiring, as I’m not an electrician.

 

As the years flew by and you became more stacked and stacked tire after tire after tire in that random field by the pond (I worked at the Goodyear Plant and would dump them there just to give you something to do), I began to realize that you would never love me, not like you love Prince Charming and Junior.  And I knew that the shit I say would never be as meaningful as the shit your kids say, but I would yell “Shit, shit, shit?” as I hauled tires back and forth, and you would post pictures of snowy trees on your blog and I knew you saw me in every frozen leaf, especially the ones where I actually glued my picture to the leaf,  with Edward’s Penis above my lips, those lips screaming out from every gluey leaf, screaming, “Love me, Love me, Love me!”

 

I know you think needy men are pussies, but it isn’t so much need as the desire of several teenage boys wrapped together like a duct-taped suitcase filled with the masculine love of an older, unneedy salt and pepper gentleman with a moustache (moustache rides are free by the way).

 

And then, one day, I was up on the roof with a couple of tires I’d hauled up there (I thought that would be a new challenge since you’re getting tired of the Thunderdome) and you said in that husky voice of yours:

 

“Hey, Asshole.  I’ve got a gun and I’m going to blow you a new one!”

 

And when that bullet went through me I knew in my heart (the bullet was actually in my heart with all the other feelings) that you really did care.  You really did.  No one shoots someone unless they really care about them, or they just wish they had a penis like Edward Hotspur’s and they’re frustrated.

 

You’re the former, not the latter.  So I climbed down the ladder, my former self wondering why I was bleeding so profusely, and you met me at the window, the same one you like to lick so much, and before I passed out, I swear we had something real between us.

 

It was a tire.

 

Love   XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 

****************

Dear XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX,

I cannot begin to tell you how surprised I was to receive your letter! In fact, I came as soon as I heard the postman ring my doorbell. Sorry this took so long to respond, but the postman came to my backdoor instead.

At first I thought it was my weekly delivery of tube steak or my monthly bottle of trouser snake repellent or the latest issue of Beaver Buster catalog. You can imagine my surprise to find my postman, John Thomas, standing at attention on my doorstep holding your letter in one hand and my package in the other (my dog Bukkaki got a bone or two in the mail that day).

I want you to know that I read your letter over and over while I watched West Point’s Black Knights play the Midshipmen- after I adjusted my antenna, of course. There’s nothing better in the world to me than the feeling of beating Navy. Well, maybe Magic  Johnson with ball in his hand. Not to blow my own horn, but I was a bit of ball-handler myself back in the day.

I’d love to stay and chat, but I promised Rosy Palm and her five sisters that I’d help them polish the family jewels.

Signed,

Edward Hotspur’s Penis

 

 

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Posted by  |  May 13, 2012 | Categories: Humor, Love Letters Gone Wrong | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments »

Love Letters Gone Wrong – Twenty

It’s time for another round of LOVE LETTERS GONE WRONG! Every Friday I feature a LOVE LETTER GONE WRONG submitted by an anonymous blogger. Sunday morning I reveal the secret admirer’s identity with a link to the blogger’s home page. If you’d like to submit some truly heinous love letters please send them to heellisgoa@gmail.com.

This week’s love letter one wrong was written by a one of my Blogs With Books authors. Check out this page and then return to the comments here to guess who the secret admirer is. The first correct guess wins a free copy of my ebook.

 

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Dear Heloise Ecclesiastes Ellis,

 

I remember the first time I laid eyes on you.  I was in kindergarten.  You wore a blue dress and smelled of huckleberry (I distinctly remember it as huckleberry because even back then I was looking stuff up on Wikipedia).  I moved in closer to admire you as you finger-painted fiery orange and red and black with a yellow stripe running down the middle of the artpaper.  I touched the gauzy film of your petticoat and you punched me in the face, shattering my nose in thirty-two places. It was only later that I realized what a gift that was, as my new proboscis bears an uncanny resemblance to Edward Hotspur’s penis.

 

As we grew older in the small town of Valentine (I’ve always wanted to give you one—a small town, not a Valentine), I realized that even though I could sing and dance, I wasn’t gay enough to keep from wanting you, even after I figured out that you are a woman—a small woman with big breasts and all the energy of a Red Bull factory wired by Nikola Tesla while Benjamin Franklin flies a kite on top of the building with a key attached to the string with a 12 gauge copper wire attached to the key so that when the whole thing electrifies from lightening, it is conducted back to the factory, which is you I think, though I got kind of lost when I started talking about wiring, as I’m not an electrician.

 

As the years flew by and you became more stacked and stacked tire after tire after tire in that random field by the pond (I worked at the Goodyear Plant and would dump them there just to give you something to do), I began to realize that you would never love me, not like you love Prince Charming and Junior.  And I knew that the shit I say would never be as meaningful as the shit your kids say, but I would yell “Shit, shit, shit?” as I hauled tires back and forth, and you would post pictures of snowy trees on your blog and I knew you saw me in every frozen leaf, especially the ones where I actually glued my picture to the leaf,  with Edward’s Penis above my lips, those lips screaming out from every gluey leaf, screaming, “Love me, Love me, Love me!”

 

I know you think needy men are pussies, but it isn’t so much need as the desire of several teenage boys wrapped together like a duct-taped suitcase filled with the masculine love of an older, unneedy salt and pepper gentleman with a moustache (moustache rides are free by the way).

 

And then, one day, I was up on the roof with a couple of tires I’d hauled up there (I thought that would be a new challenge since you’re getting tired of the Thunderdome) and you said in that husky voice of yours:

 

“Hey, Asshole.  I’ve got a gun and I’m going to blow you a new one!”

 

And when that bullet went through me I knew in my heart (the bullet was actually in my heart with all the other feelings) that you really did care.  You really did.  No one shoots someone unless they really care about them, or they just wish they had a penis like Edward Hotspur’s and they’re frustrated.

 

You’re the former, not the latter.  So I climbed down the ladder, my former self wondering why I was bleeding so profusely, and you met me at the window, the same one you like to lick so much, and before I passed out, I swear we had something real between us.

 

It was a tire.

 

Love   XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Posted by  |  May 11, 2012 | Categories: Humor, Love Letters Gone Wrong | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 35 Comments »

Sidecar SPaM

*** I AM STILL BEING HELD CAPTIVE BY NINJAS- SO THIS WEEK’S SPAM IS A REBLOG OF OUR GOOD FRIEND AND PLAYER RONNIE FROM THE LIBRA CHRONICLES ***

Take one part modern-day bachelor, two parts savvy player, add a splash of Cointreau and you get THE LIBRA CHRONICLES; an unapologetic blog that asks the question, “Can a blog really make it when the writer does not try to make a blog that targets special key words, certain audiences, weight loss or fitness or celebrities or some certain NICHE?”

I didn’t know the answer to that question when I first stumbled onto Ronnie Libra’s blog, but all it took was one look at his tag cloud filled with words like SEDUCTION, KEY WEST and POLYSOMNOGRAPHY to know that I wouldn’t be bored finding out.

*** So Ronnie, you describe your blog in your WHAT IS ALL THIS INSOLENCE page as an “experiment” in finding your target audience without the use of buzz words. Has your experiment revealed the results of who your target audience is?

I bet, like my mind, my target will be “Kid in a Candy Shop.”  Or more appropriately, “Ronnie in a Bar.”  So many flavors, why just settle for the same one all the time?  

*** In your page THE SEDUCTION CHRONICLES you include stories that you describe as including the “rawness and reality” of seduction. What motivated you to include these stories?

Hundreds of posts on private seduction forums.  People who’ve read them always tell me they are very inspirational, so I figured, what the fuck…. I may as well share them with more people.  If I can reach out to that one person who get’s inspired then kick ass!  I have done my duty. 

*** In addition to dating advice you have posts that focus on philosophy and inspiration. What has inspired you recently that you’d like readers to take away from your blog?

Momentum…  Keep doing what you love… Make it happen.  Fuck failure and fuck the outcome.  Go for it anyway.  Even if you are failing, keep going because the more steps you take towards your goals the better your momentum will be to take those steps. Be cool with failing, dammit. ;)  Penicillin was a mistake. OOOOHhhhh and some kick ass music, Music is my life.  I recharge off of it.  I have a giant history in my mind of music I love and I feel that, most of my life, every day can have a theme song.   

*** Many of your posts include sometimes graphic descriptions of many of your sexual escapades. Do you find it difficult to share these experiences with your readers? And what do you hope you can pass on in the way of knowledge?

Not difficult at all.  If you read the book, “My Secret Garden” by Nancy Friday, which is a book on REAL women’s fantasies, my reports become rated PG.  ;)  I’m trying to convey the process of Seduction with my writing.  Later, I may delve more into the actual sexuality and passion as well, I’m sure I will.

Here’s what I want.  I want people to be cool with seduction.  It’s not some taboo shit.  It’s everyday reality.  It’s happening all around us.  The girl that I just looked at, while thinking, that made eye contact and looked away.  It’s natural.

I want that guy or that girl who sees that sexy motherfucker they want to meet to go do it.  Go meet that person!

*** What would you like men to take away from your blog?

I haven’t really thought about this.  Maybe inspiration.  Maybe to get a little mad or inspired inside and say, “If this asshole can do this so can I!” ;)

*** What would you like women to take away from your blog?

Women readers seem to be the main readers so far in my blog.  I would almost want to ask them, “What do you hope to find here?  or Why are you coming back? or even, “Let’s say my blog was your dirty little secret that no one would ever find out about.  What would you want it to be like?”

*** What can we expect from THE LIBRA CHRONICLES in the future?

Utter Sexy Randomness.  Chocolate, Vanilla, Strawberry and sometimes Chicken Fried Rice.  Ya, it doesn’t have to make sense.  And music.  Lots and lots of music.

Follow Ronnie at THE LIBRA CHRONICLES

Have a blog, book or music to promote? Contact me for your own feature on SPaM at heellisgoa@gmail.com

Posted by  |  May 7, 2012 | Categories: Humor, SPaM | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments »

My Secret Admirer – Nineteen

It’s time for this week’s LOVE LETTERS GONE WRONG secret admirer big reveal! This week we did have a winner, so click the trophy to the right for this week’s winning blogger.

Here’s a recap of Friday’s post as well as my response at the bottom. If you’d like a free copy of my ebook take a guess or send a love letter gone wrong to heellisgoa@gmail.com.

 

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Oh, Heidi, Heidi. Christ almighty,
how I do love thee?
Thy witty prose, thy way with words,
pure amazes me.

I would write for you a poem
if I only could.
But when I think about you
I part turn into wood.

It gets so hard and painful
I can scarce endure.
And in case you’re doubtful,
that’s not bull manure.

It’s not the type of wood with which
I heat my home at night.
It is instead so warm and smooth,
and could give you great delight.

But the miles that lie between us,
so many in their count,
make it so unlikely
that you I’ll ever mount.

My wife would be heartbroken
if she knew to you I write.
But I’ll be thinking of you
when I’m doing her tonight.

************************

Thank you, kind sir
for your letter to me
that I read many times
while I sat in the tree

outside of the window
that looks onto your bed
and watched you make love
to a woman in red

who called out a name
that I didn’t quite hear
and then something about
something else in her rear

that I assumed meant you’d used
a bit too much force
which makes total sense since
you’re hung like a horse

but when she complained
how it started to burn
all I could think of was,
“When’s it MY turn?”

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Posted by  |  May 6, 2012 | Categories: Books, Humor, Love Letters Gone Wrong | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 5 Comments »

School Bus Soapbox

I don’t normally use my blog to voice personal opinions, but today I need to address an issue that has been brought my attention. For those of you who may not know, real world Hellis drives a school bus. Lately I’ve been asked the question “Why don’t school buses have seat belts?” multiple, multiple, MULTIPLE times.

What some of you may not know is that statistically, school buses are the safest mode of transportation available, outweighing even airline travel. (for statistics click HERE). There is also information out there suggesting that school bus seat belts are the way to go (for those statistics click HERE). My post today isn’t meant to dispute either set of statistics, but to apply my real world experience to empirical information. I agree that in a perfect world every bus would have a seat belt and every student would be further protected from potential harm. Sadly, I drive a bus in the real world and this just isn’t how things work. I’ll begin by asking a few questions of my own:

 

1. Have you ever seen a seat belt?

If you haven’t let me describe it. It’s a long, thick vinyl strap with a heavy metal buckle at the end. Now imagine 84 of them. Now imagine 84 eight year-old boys. Now imagine a weapon that swings like a lasso and feels like a mace. Now imagine 84 black eyes and missing teeth. Now imagine being the only adult in charge of controlling that behavior. Behavior that is going on behind your back. While you are driving. And stopping. And driving. And stopping…

 

2. Who enforces this rule?

If a seat belt is to function properly it needs to be utilized. When was the last time you got a teenager to do anything you considered safe? Again, imagine 84 of them. How do you enforce that rule? Do you stop the bus every time a kid unbuckles themselves? As a driver is it your responsibility to buckle the seat belt around the student if he/she doesn’t comply?

Now imagine you’re a forty-something male bus driver faced with the challenge of buckling in a high school girl. I smell a lawsuit. What then? Do you exempt her from wearing it because you don’t want to appear inappropriate? You can bet that if she doesn’t comply, the other 83 surely won’t.

And what if the students don’t comply and there is an accident. Is the driver responsible for student injury because he/she failed in his/her duties to see that all 84 students not only buckled in but stayed buckled in for the duration of the trip? I am not speaking for the bus driving industry as a whole when I say the moment that scenario became policy the bus driving industry would have one less bus driver.

 

3. Who pays for it?

H.R. Nightmare not only served on our local PTA for five years, but he also helped draft the contract for the new bus company coming in. People, the funds just aren’t there. Here’s the math:

My school district has 50 buses. Each school bus requires 84 mated seat belts. That’s 4200 seat belt units required for purchase should a policy be enforced. Each seat belt union cost $18.00 per unit.

Total increase to tax payers – $75,600.

This may not seem like much when you consider a school district budget as a whole, but if you take into consideration the 50 buses at a national average of $75,000 per bus, you are talking about adding $75,600 to an already required payout of $3,750,000.

Keep in mind also that because seat belts function as a safety measure, there is no policy or standard for repair. Every malfunctioning seat belt requires replacement. Who sets the standard for their daily functionality? Do we, as drivers, perform daily buckle inspections? Again, who pays for the time needed to inspect these buckles daily? You better believe my effort spent on buckle inspection will appear on my time card.

I realize that my opinions, and they are “opinions,” may not mesh well with the opinions of others. And I certainly mean no disrespect to anyone out there who has been harmed or had a loved one harmed on a school bus. All I can do is answer the question that has been posed to me many times over the last ten years the best way I know how.

Stay tuned tomorrow for our regularly scheduled blog nonsense.

 

Posted by  |  May 5, 2012 | Categories: Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , | 36 Comments »

Love Letter Gone Wrong – Nineteen

It’s time for another round of LOVE LETTERS GONE WRONG! Every Friday I feature a LOVE LETTER GONE WRONG submitted by an anonymous blogger. Sunday morning I reveal the secret admirer’s identity with a link to the blogger’s home page. If you’d like to submit some truly heinous love letters please send them to heellisgoa@gmail.com.

This week’s love letter was written by a blogger who took the time to comment on my OPEN LETTER post. Check out this post and then return to the comments here to guess who the secret admirer is. The first correct guess wins a free copy of my ebook.

Oh, Heidi, Heidi. Christ almighty,
how I do love thee?
Thy witty prose, thy way with words,
pure amazes me.

I would write for you a poem
if I only could.
But when I think about you
I part turn into wood.

It gets so hard and painful
I can scarce endure.
And in case you’re doubtful,
that’s not bull manure.

It’s not the type of wood with which
I heat my home at night.
It is instead so warm and smooth,
and could give you great delight.

But the miles that lie between us,
so many in their count,
make it so unlikely
that you I’ll ever mount.

My wife would be heartbroken
if she knew to you I write.
But I’ll be thinking of you
when I’m doing her tonight.

Posted by  |  May 4, 2012 | Categories: Humor, Love Letters Gone Wrong | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 19 Comments »

Things You Can’t Unsee – Seven

Because this week so far has felt like an ass full of pipe wrench.

Posted by  |  May 2, 2012 | Categories: Humor, Things You Can't Unsee | Tags: , , , , , , , , | 17 Comments »

Sawyer SPaM

This seems really odd to say, but today is the birthday I assigned the character of Sawyer in my novel, The Gods of Asphalt. His birthday features prominently in the book so I thought I’d answer some questions I’ve been asked over the past year about his character.

1. Why did you pick April 30th for his birthday?

I knew from the beginning he would wreck a motorcycle on his birthday so I needed it to take place during warm weather– but before his high school graduation. Research revealed that Nebraska high schools let out the first weekend in May so there was my time crunch. I wanted the added insult of him screwing up his life the instant it became his to own. Besides, Sawyer shares his birthday with someone pretty awesome.

2. Why did you pick Sawyer for his name?

Sawyer is sort of a default name. In my real life there is a real River, although he is nothing like the River character (I based the River character on someone elses life entirely). I always knew that I would name the character of the blonde older brother River, so I had to think of a name that was in the same vein for the younger brother. Thus Sawyer was born, and not Steve.

3. Why is Sawyer so tall?

Sawyer is tall because it allows him to be good at basketball. Sawyer needed a way out of his father’s life so I gave him basketball because it offers scholarships as well as being the perfect sport for a kid who lives on the road. Football requires gear, baseball requires a team, track requires good weather but basketball can be played anywhere, anytime with anyone. All you need is a ball.

4. Why do you describe Sawyer looking the way you do?

My kids helped with this one. My son Junior HATES being called pretty when compared to his good-looking, blonde older brother Prince Charming. I described Sawyer to my daughter and she instantly pulled up a television show called BIG TIME RUSH and said, “I think you are describing this guy.” In that moment James Maslow became my vision for Sawyer. I even wrote a little snippet in my book for him. I’m my daughter’s hero for that.

5. Why is Sawyer’s jersey number 13?

Because number 13 belongs to Steve Nash, my all time favorite basketball player.

6. How come Sawyer can sing?

Because I can’t. No, seriously; basketball was what Sawyer was good at, but music was what he loved and what his mother robbed him of.

7. Does Sawyer ever get Sarah?

Hehehehe…..

Posted by  |  April 30, 2012 | Categories: Books, Humor, SPaM | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 23 Comments »

My Secret Admirer – Eighteen

It’s time for this week’s LOVE LETTERS GONE WRONG secret admirer big reveal! This week we did have a winner, so click the trophy to the right for this week’s secret blogger.

Here’s a recap of Friday’s post as well as my response at the bottom. If you’d like a free copy of my ebook take a guess or send a love letter gone wrong to heellisgoa@gmail.com.

***************

Dear H,

I’ve come to realize I am the only one for you, just because I may have let’s say “taken care” of the competition. But as I am writing this note on my clip board as a wander aimlessly around your house, don’t worry as to how I managed to get in but I can say I will pay for the hole in the roof.

 

That aside I must say, your choice of furniture is peculiar but the way it is (after I’ve made alterations) set out is pure amazing… I hope you like it. The only flaw for my love for you, is that your home does not have easy access to someone of my height but that said armed with my trusty foot stool I was able to reach those hard to get spots even managing to climb into your bed, my plan was to wait for you to come home to find me waiting for you but instead I decided to unpack all my clothing into what I presume is your wardrobe, and after going through just about all your clothing and admiringly wearing some items I might just have to take you shopping so that I can buy us matching vest tops that express our love for Snow White. As part of my work being a dwarf mob boss I am pleased to say anything or anyone you want can be dealt with making it easier for us to be together, money or resources are not an issue as you can see by the new jungle gym now found in your yard.

 

I have also assigned security to your kids and they are now on route to keep them safe you might want to drop them a call and tell them that the small green bushes that follow them with guns are there for their own protection. On that note I’m off for some shopping and I have some things to take care of, ill be back in a day or two.

Lots of love from but one of the 7 dwarves who now lives with you

xOxOx

P.s I think I left a gun in one of the draws please take case as it is loaded.

***************

Dear #7 (assuming?),

I surely do appreciate the added security on the kids, and yes, I had wondered where that draft and the jungle gym equipment came from, although around here, things appear in the yard randomly anyway.

I was intrigued by the stepstool refrences through your note. I have to admit that I’ve always fantasized about being in a situation where I’m the tall one, so that is something we’ll have to explore. However – and I hope this doesn’t deflate your Vienna sausage – I do want you to bring the other six friends you mention. I can’t tell you how long I’ve yearned for being taken care of that completely. Hope you and the six of your crew are “up” to me.

Waiting in anticipation,

H.E.

CLICK THE HEART BELOW FOR THIS WEEK’S SECRET ADMIRER:

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Posted by  |  April 29, 2012 | Categories: Humor, Love Letters Gone Wrong | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 14 Comments »

Love Letters Gone Wrong – Eighteen

It’s time for another round of LOVE LETTERS GONE WRONG! Every Friday I feature a LOVE LETTER GONE WRONG submitted by an anonymous blogger. Sunday morning I reveal the secret admirer’s identity with a link to the blogger’s home page. If you’d like to submit some truly heinous love letters please send them to heellisgoa@gmail.com.

This week’s love letter was written by a blogger who’s new to my blogroll:

A PLACE FOR NERDS

DELIGHTFULNESS

BUDDAKAT

HOBBLING AROUND

The first correct guess wins a free copy of my ebook.

***********

Dear H,

I’ve come to realize I am the only one for you, just because I may have let’s say “taken care” of the competition. But as I am writing this note on my clip board as a wander aimlessly around your house, don’t worry as to how I managed to get in but I can say I will pay for the hole in the roof.

 

That aside I must say, your choice of furniture is peculiar but the way it is (after I’ve made alterations) set out is pure amazing… I hope you like it. The only flaw for my love for you, is that your home does not have easy access to someone of my height but that said armed with my trusty foot stool I was able to reach those hard to get spots even managing to climb into your bed, my plan was to wait for you to come home to find me waiting for you but instead I decided to unpack all my clothing into what I presume is your wardrobe, and after going through just about all your clothing and admiringly wearing some items I might just have to take you shopping so that I can buy us matching vest tops that express our love for Snow White. As part of my work being a dwarf mob boss I am pleased to say anything or anyone you want can be dealt with making it easier for us to be together, money or resources are not an issue as you can see by the new jungle gym now found in your yard.

 

I have also assigned security to your kids and they are now on route to keep them safe you might want to drop them a call and tell them that the small green bushes that follow them with guns are there for their own protection. On that note I’m off for some shopping and I have some things to take care of, ill be back in a day or two.

Lots of love from but one of the 7 dwarves who now lives with you

xOxOx

P.s I think I left a gun in one of the draws please take case as it is loaded.

Posted by  |  April 27, 2012 | Categories: Humor, Love Letters Gone Wrong | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 35 Comments »

It’s SPaM…The Sequel!

*** YUP, I’M STILL WRITING. HERE’S A REPLAY OF MY IDIOT FRIEND AND UBER SIDEKICK JEB’S SPAM POST. HE’S BEEN AWAY FROM BLOGGING DUE TO SOME PRETTY AWESOME HAPPENINGS IN HIS LIFE WHICH I WILL BE FILLING YOU IN ON SOON ***

It’s time for another helping of SPaM (Shameless Promotion Mondays)

For today’s SPaM post I’m featuring someone I know personally. Someone larger than life both in appearance and personality. Someone who’s been like an obnoxious little brother, following me around making my life a living HELL. But I got him back by basing a character in my book on him. Then I threatened him with bodily harm if he didn’t make a companion blog to mine. And on that note I give you…

JEB

ME:  So when did you first realize you were a loser?

JEB:  When did we meet?

ME:  Are you telling me you can’t remember?

JEB:  I’m saying repressed memories fucking suck.

ME:  Alright, moving on. You’re in your senior year of college. What are your plans for the future?

JEB: Plans for the future? I don’t plan for the future. 2012 is right around the corner. I plan on getting 3 stars on this level of Angry Birds but that’s about as far ahead as I’m planning.

ME:  2012? Oh that’s right. You’re one of those SciFi loving, Firefly watching, half-virgins aren’t you?

JEB:  I’m not a geek. You just wrote me that way.  And Firefly is awesome.

ME:  Denial is not an attractive quality, Jeb.

JEB:  I deny being not attractive. Just ask Megan. Hi!

ME:  Calm your hormones and focus.

JEB:  You ask the impossible.

ME:  I begged you for almost a year to get a blog. What finally changed your mind?

JEB:  I discovered there was stuff out there other than porn. And you scare the shit out of me.

ME:  Being scared of females explains a lot about your love life.

JEB:  I’m not scared of females, I’m scared of YOU. So much rage inside such a small person. As far as females go I have no problem with them, as long as they can cook. If you’ve got time to paint your toenails, you’ve got time to make me a fucking pot pie.

ME:  So tell me again, who’s your girlfriend now?

JEB:  I’m in between social relations right now. I don’t like to be tied down. Well, wait…

ME:  You were a really good sport about letting me base a character in my book on you–

JEB:  That’s only because you promised it would get me laid.

ME:  So how’s that working out?

JEB:  Great for River. Me, not so great. Again, in between social relations.

ME:  How does it feel to be cockblocked by a fictional character?

JEB:  Kind of like losing an election to a dead guy.

ME:  Now that you have a blog, where do you intend to take it?

JEB:  Everywhere, I guess.

ME:  What is the one thing you’d like the blogging world to know about Jeb?

JEB:  That you got “Broomstick” from me (it’s in the book). Everybody needs something to laugh at, so it might as well be me. Also if they’ve got a sister, email me at—

ME:  And that’s enough for today. You can follow my buddy at JustJeb.

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If you or someone you know has something to promote, like a blog or book or music; just email me at heellisgoa@gmail.com. DO NOT PUT “SPAM” IN THE SUBJECT BAR.

Posted by  |  April 23, 2012 | Categories: Humor, The Gods of Asphalt | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , | 12 Comments »

Earth Day Interview With Gaia

In celebration of Earth Day I’ve decided to take a moment to sit down with Gaia, the Earth Goddess. Hello, Gaia. Thank you for sitting down with us today.

Oh it’s so good to be here, or anywhere for that matter. And thank you for celebrating Earth Day. It’s a small step towards saving my beautiful creation. So many people are so fucking oblivious to what is happening to this magnificent planet it boggles the mind, so thank you for the opportunity to shed a bit of light.

It’s been an unusually warm winter here in the United States. What do you attribute that to?

Well, I certainly had nothing to do with it despite what Zeus may have told you. He tried to tell me I was just having a primordial hot flash, but he’s almost as stupid about these things as most of the people on the planet.  You people need to get your heads out of your collective asses and get a fucking clue. Do you think that over a century of burning coal and gas while at the same time  cutting down my beautiful trees on a massive scale is having no effect on the atmosphere? If you don’t get your act together soon, the Earth is going to resemble Venus.

The world’s population is about to reach seven billion people. How has this affected Earth as you see it?

It’s making it damn hard for me to see the Earth. You know, almost all of the world’s problems can be attributed to one thing – too many people.  When birth control was invented I thought you’d at least have the good sense to use it. But noooo. And now, people are a planetary problem. At least most of you seem to congregate in the same areas so there are still a few pristine places where you can experience this beautiful planet in all its glory.

You have quite the following among the New Age Hippie crowd. Which do you prefer as worshipers; the Hippies or the Greeks?

Ahhh, the Greeks – the wine, the debauchery, the bacchanalia – I love me a good bacchanalia. But then the Hippies, and not just the new age Hippies, but the old age ones, too, are all about peace and love and sex and getting high and hugging trees and the music.  Yes, I think the music  tips the scale in their favor.

I’ve done some research and discovered that you have over twenty children. Which one is your favorite?

I think it was way more than twenty but I lost count of the little bastards long ago. I know most mothers don’t refer to their offspring as little bastards but I never married any of their fathers, so they were all technically bastards.  Now I’m not going to give you the standard mommy lie of ‘I don’t have a favorite, I love them all the same,’ because that is such a crock of shit. Of course, every mother has a favorite, it’s just that some mothers are better at hiding it than others.  I simply adored Phoebe but Aergia was a huge disappointment.

Which God was the best in the sack?

Ahhh, I had some wild times with Uranus. There was nothing that guy wouldn’t do. And I mean NOTHING. It was SO hot! But he got a little mean in his old age so I got the kids to kill him.  Pontus was so much fun, too. We would do some role playing, the pirate scenario was my favorite – always a hoot.  Zeus had a huge ego, but sadly his manly parts weren’t so big.

How does it feel to be the original MILF?

Fucking fantastic! Though I prefer GILF or Goddess I’d Like to Fuck. There is fucking power in being so fuckable. Every woman deserves to feel like this. I think that’s what all those poser Wicca chicks are trying to achieve by invoking my name and dancing naked under the full moon.

What does Earth’s future hold for mankind?

I think you have that question backwards. It’s more a case of what does mankind’s future hold for the Earth. If you stay on your current path, the Earth is doomed.  Earth is the only fucking planet you have. It is a glorious planet full of beauty and wonder. It can feed you and sustain you. All she asks in return is that you take care of her and nurture her. So get a fucking clue. Recycle, reuse, embrace sustainable farming, find viable sustainable energy,  clean up the place. Tread lightly on the Earth and every now and then hug a tree.

 

CLICK THE RED BUTTON FOR PAST HOLIDAY ICON INTERVIEWS!!!

Posted by  |  April 22, 2012 | Categories: Holiday Interviews, Humor | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 40 Comments »

My Secret Admirer – Seventeen

*** TODAY IS OUR SECRET ADMIRER REVEAL AS TOMORROW IS OUR EXCLUSIVE EARTH DAY INTERVIEW WITH THE EARTH GODDESS HERSELF, GAIA ***

It’s time for this week’s LOVE LETTERS GONE WRONG secret admirer big reveal! This week we did not have a winner, so click the trophy for another whacked out post.

Here’s a recap of Friday’s post as well as my response at the bottom. If you’d like a free copy of my ebook take a guess or send a love letter gone wrong to heellisgoa@gmail.com.

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My dearest H. E.:

I am so glad I found you through the magic of the internet, because when I first laid eyes on your blog, I knew you were destined to be in a box under my bed.  Just like the girl who was kept captive in a box under someone’s bed in California in the late ’70s and early ’80s, you will of course be allowed to be outside of the box once I’m off work.  Unlike that case, though, there will be no torture involved (who do you take me for, after all?).  In fact, I won’t be abducting you while you are hitchhiking, like happened in that case, because I can’t afford the gas after all.  I just know that YOU know that you belong in a box under my bed, and you will drive here.  It would help if you’d bring the box too, because I don’t really like to do all that much when I’m not at work.  But, I will make an exception for you, because of the fact that we are destined to be together.

So, if that’s the case (that you are too lazy to build your own box) please send me all your measurements and how much extra room you think you need in the box, and I’ll commence to building the damn thing.  Let’s not overdo the size of it though; I don’t have a whole lot of headroom in the place, and I don’t really need to climb up in my bed with a stepladder.  Of course, there’ll be a lot of “headroom” in the whole place for you.  There will be “headroom” for us everywhere you and I go.  If you play your cards right, I may spend some time in your box with you.  I think the two of us might have some fun there, in your velvet-lined box.

The box will need to have ventilation, lighting, and some sort of bathroom facility built into it, so it would help if you could design all that in too.  I can tell that you are one of those modern women who can do such things, and figure all kinds of things out for yourself, and that the only time you will need to be submissive to any man is when I snap my fingers and tell you that it’s time for you to serve me in some way.

Your box will have to have an internet connection in it and you will be allowed to have a laptop, because I really enjoy your blog and you will want to keep communicating with the rest of the world with it, when you are not communicating with me by giving me lip service.  Plus you will want to work on your next novel, as we will need the extra income now that I will have an extra mouth to feed.  Maybe you could start a second blog; you could call it “Thoughts from my box” or “The world according to my box” or “I’ve got more going on in my plush little box than you do in your whole house” dot wordpress dot com, or some such thing.

Obviously you won’t need much for clothes at first; I will keep the heat up higher than I usually would while I’m at work, so that you can always be wearing nothing but lingerie.  Once I’m sure that you’ve “got your mind right” and aren’t going to think that you need more from life than a box under my bed and to serve me, daily, (hourly on weekends), then you will be allowed to spend more time outside the box.  I don’t expect you to be “thinking outside the box”, though, unless it’s to be thinking of ways to make me even happier.  I could go on and on about how much enjoyment your box will bring to both of us, but I think I’ve spent enough time fixating on your box for one night, don’t you?

Ever awaiting my chance to first lay eyes on your box,

I remain,

Your faithful servant

**************

Dear Faithful Servant,

How kind of you to think of giving me a box! I’ve always wanted one, you know. When I was in kindergarten I told my teacher I wanted a box and she gave me a small, narrow pink one that I didn’t think would hold anything bigger than a crayon, but somehow it accommodated even the largest pencils!

As I got a little older I told my mother I wanted a box but she said I was “confused.” Then I told the Pastor at my church about my want of a box, and he told me to pray so I wouldn’t get one. That made me really confused.

Finally I saw a doctor and told him about my box dreams. He told me to move to Colorado Springs and wear a dress for a year. Not sure what that has to do with a box, but I’ve grown to like how the silk feels against my skin.

I like the idea of you spending time with me in my box. I’m only 4’11″ so there may not be much room for you to fit. You may have to cram yourself in there. I’m sure we can make it work.

Waiting patiently for you to come fill my box,

MR. H.E. Ellis

CLICK THE HEART BELOW FOR THIS WEEK’S SECRET ADMIRER:

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Posted by  |  April 21, 2012 | Categories: Humor, Love Letters Gone Wrong | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | 10 Comments »

Love Letters Gone Wrong – Seventeen

It’s time time for another round of LOVE LETTERS GONE WRONG! Every Friday I feature a LOVE LETTER GONE WRONG submitted by an anonymous blogger. Sunday morning I reveal the secret admirer’s identity with a link to the blogger’s home page. If you’d like to submit some truly heinous love letters please send them to heellisgoa@gmail.com.

This week’s love letter was written by a blogger who wished my Verynormal friend Megan a HAPPY BIRTHDAY. Check out this post and then return to the comments here to guess who the secret admirer is. The first correct guess wins a free copy of my ebook.

*************

My dearest H. E.:

I am so glad I found you through the magic of the internet, because when I first laid eyes on your blog, I knew you were destined to be in a box under my bed.  Just like the girl who was kept captive in a box under someone’s bed in California in the late ’70s and early ’80s, you will of course be allowed to be outside of the box once I’m off work.  Unlike that case, though, there will be no torture involved (who do you take me for, after all?).  In fact, I won’t be abducting you while you are hitchhiking, like happened in that case, because I can’t afford the gas after all.  I just know that YOU know that you belong in a box under my bed, and you will drive here.  It would help if you’d bring the box too, because I don’t really like to do all that much when I’m not at work.  But, I will make an exception for you, because of the fact that we are destined to be together.

So, if that’s the case (that you are too lazy to build your own box) please send me all your measurements and how much extra room you think you need in the box, and I’ll commence to building the damn thing.  Let’s not overdo the size of it though; I don’t have a whole lot of headroom in the place, and I don’t really need to climb up in my bed with a stepladder.  Of course, there’ll be a lot of “headroom” in the whole place for you.  There will be “headroom” for us everywhere you and I go.  If you play your cards right, I may spend some time in your box with you.  I think the two of us might have some fun there, in your velvet-lined box.

The box will need to have ventilation, lighting, and some sort of bathroom facility built into it, so it would help if you could design all that in too.  I can tell that you are one of those modern women who can do such things, and figure all kinds of things out for yourself, and that the only time you will need to be submissive to any man is when I snap my fingers and tell you that it’s time for you to serve me in some way.

Your box will have to have an internet connection in it and you will be allowed to have a laptop, because I really enjoy your blog and you will want to keep communicating with the rest of the world with it, when you are not communicating with me by giving me lip service.  Plus you will want to work on your next novel, as we will need the extra income now that I will have an extra mouth to feed.  Maybe you could start a second blog; you could call it “Thoughts from my box” or “The world according to my box” or “I’ve got more going on in my plush little box than you do in your whole house” dot wordpress dot com, or some such thing.

Obviously you won’t need much for clothes at first; I will keep the heat up higher than I usually would while I’m at work, so that you can always be wearing nothing but lingerie.  Once I’m sure that you’ve “got your mind right” and aren’t going to think that you need more from life than a box under my bed and to serve me, daily, (hourly on weekends), then you will be allowed to spend more time outside the box.  I don’t expect you to be “thinking outside the box”, though, unless it’s to be thinking of ways to make me even happier.  I could go on and on about how much enjoyment your box will bring to both of us, but I think I’ve spent enough time fixating on your box for one night, don’t you?

Ever awaiting my chance to first lay eyes on your box,

I remain,

Your faithful servant

Posted by  |  April 20, 2012 | Categories: Humor, Love Letters Gone Wrong | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 32 Comments »

Happy Birthday Tim Curry!!!

TODAY IS THE BIRTHDAY OF MY MOST FAVORITE ACTOR OF ALL TIME….TIM CURRY!!!!

I remember the first time I saw Tim Curry on the big screen. It was in a now defunct movie theater in Windsor, Connecticut with my best friend (yes, Quinn I’m talking about you) who dragged me kicking and screaming to see the movie ANNIE. I remember everyone HATING the character of Rooster but I was absolutely smitten. I loved his voice, the way he moved, his eyes, EVERYTHING about him.

It was just a few years later that I was dragged to another movie theater (yes, Quinn this was you again) in nothing but my bra and panties to see Tim Curry in the ROCKY HORROR PICTURE SHOW. Let me digress for a moment here…

 
Have you ever had an experience as a kid that forever changed your life? That molded and shaped how you saw the world and yourself in it for years to come? Yes, that was what Tim Curry’s FRANK-N-FURTER character did for me. Since then I’ve made a point to either see or hear everything he’s ever done in his career (even Pennywise the clown. That’s how deep my love goes).

Now, I’m not one to go all gushy when meeting celebrities (my life spent as a somewhat groupie kept my Starstruck meter in check) but if I were to meet Tim Curry in the flesh I’d fucking cum in colors, I shit you not (suck on that sentence, Freshly Pressed). So here’s to you, Tim Curry, for another glorious year with you in it!

 

Posted by  |  April 19, 2012 | Categories: Humor, Music | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 25 Comments »

It’s…SPaM!!! (Redux)

Seeing as I am neck deep in various writing projects, I’ve decided to start reblogging SPaM posts every other Monday. So take it away Edward Hotspur!

 

WELCOME TO…SPaM! (Shameless Promotion Monday)

I decided to take my fear of belief in Karma and offer my blog post on Mondays to someone who wants to be heard; be it writer, artist, musician, blogger, what have you. I hope to do this every Monday so if you or anyone you know is interested then shoot me an email at: heellisgoa@gmail.com

First up is blogger extraordinaire….EDWARD HOTSPUR!

I’m not exactly sure when I first stumbled onto Edward’s blog, but I’m glad I did. He’s like that guy you see in movies everywhere that you don’t know the name of but it doesn’t stop you from pointing at the screen and shouting, “Hey! It’s that guy!” As time goes on you notice him more and more and then once he makes it big you shout to everyone how you knew he’d make it all along. Well, today I’m shouting…

EDWARD HOTSPUR!

Whether it’s taking a virtual car ride alongside him to work or listening to his Zagnut packed tales of Granite Countertop–Private Investigator; every moment spent on the Hotspur blog is an online wet dream dripping in awesome sauce. Now let’s hear from the man himself.

So Edward…what prompted you to create such an awesome blog?

There was this flashing thing which I believe is called a ‘cursor’, and it seemed to want me to do something. Actually, I think of random stuff all the time and wanted to incorporate this weird but good stuff in something, like the first guy who ate lobster.  The digital voice recorder helped with that. For me, this blog is like my Twitter, except instead of having 160 characters I have 5000+ words. Also, I must be honest – I chopped down the cherry tr – no, wait, what I meant to say was I hoped to make money at it.

How did you come up with the character “Granite Countertop?”

I actually came up with it, or him, right on the spot, and the process of that appears in Scenes From A Morning Drive 15.  Behind the scenes (see what I did there?), there was one more part of the process, and that is that I was really sick, and on some cold medication. The meds really took the filter off – yes, imagine me with no filter – and I just went with it. A part of me wants to never get better so I can keep writing all the things! But the part of me that is sore and tired of being sick knows that this happy place can’t last forever. I’ll have to find another one.

I know I’d love to see Granite Countertop published somehow. Is this something you’re considering or is he just for fun?

Granite Countertop practically writes itself, plus it’s really easy to clean. I just put a pen to some paper, and come back and things have been written down for me. It was just for fun, but some people seemed to like it/him. If there’s any way to make a little money at something that is really fun, I don’t see why I wouldn’t publish something, if I can figure out how. Some of you might think I’m a little obsessed with money, but I’m not. I’m obsessed with bling, and you need money for that. No, seriously, I have found that if I plan things out, really think about what I’m writing and outline where I want a blog post, flash fiction story or some other piece to go, it kind of sucks. Whereas if I just sit down and start writing, it sucks a little less. So you can see, doing less work results in a slightly less bad product. That’s efficiency, baby!

Name the three things you’re most known for:

Aside from inventing the wheel, I am known for a sarcastic dry sense of humor, an enormously huge penchant for the absurd, and a tendency to end a sentence with a word that you don’t avocado.

Name the three things most people don’t know about you:

Most people don’t know that I’m older than I look, that I’m very romantic, or that I’ve got this blog. Sigh.

If someone made a movie of your life, who’d play you?

A robot of me would play me. It’s the only way to properly capture all the nuances and shadows of my personage.

What more can we expect from Edward Hotspur in the future?

I plan on finishing the novel I have started, which I estimate to be about 1/3 finished, and trying to shop that around, however that is done. I also plan on recording two songs with a friend of mine, and possibly shooting a video for one of them. I also have written several short stories and the first 4-5 episodes of a serial (other than Granite Countertop). I’ve written about 20 songs for a J-rock visual kei opera based on Shinto mythology set in modern times. I’ve got to say, though, the immediate satisfaction of writing, publishing and getting feedback from a blog post is pretty hard to beat, so many, many more posts will be coming in the future. I might do one of those user-generated content sites.

Plus, there’s that secret project I’m working on, that I will reveal to everyone in, say, a few weeks? Or however long it takes me to do it.

You can follow Edward’s blog HERE

He also has merchandise for sale HERE

I can tell you this is one fan that’ll be rockin’ a Hotspur tee shortly. Be warned, they’re only for the truly “awesome.” No posers or Yankees fans allowed (well, maybe Yankees fans. But you pay extra).

 

Posted by  |  April 16, 2012 | Categories: Books, Humor, Music, SPaM | Tags: , , , , , , | 17 Comments »

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