I have a confession to make. I love Halloween more than any grown person should. In fact, I love anything macabre or supernatural, and the darker or more twisted the better. My personal vision of Heaven looks like Halloween Town and sounds like Type O Negative. Yeah, that’s right. I’m a Type O Negative fan. Don’t judge.
When Halloween fell on a Monday this year I knew I had to feature someone who’d bring the same level of passion for the holiday as I would. Someone who isn’t just a fan of the horror genre, but a writer of it as well. So for today’s SPaM I am pleased to bring you:
THIRTEEN QUESTIONS WITH KAT FROM GRAFIKLIT!
**** 1. When did you know you wanted to be a writer?
When my art career never took off. I had been working on a comic book that I had created, but I was never satisfied with the artwork. So I figured I’d concentrate on just the writing; I’ve always made up stories in my head. I just had to learn how to do the grammar good.
**** 2. What attracted you to the horror genre?
Good question. I have no answer. I just . . . like it. As a kid, I was fascinated by Bigfoot. That led to Mothman, haunted houses, werewolves, serial killers. Dark stuff. I know the names of more serial killers and porn stars than I do contemporary celebrities. I get some weird looks. Jeffrey Dahmer and Stephen St. Croix, by the way. Serial killer and porn star, respectively.
**** 3. Do you have a favorite supernatural or spectral entity?
Werewolves! Also James Dean’s ghost.
**** 4. Anyone who loves the darker side of life the way we do has friend who shares that passion. Who is your closest “fright friend?”
This question makes me sad. I have no “fright friend”. I work alone, like Kolchak the Night Stalker. You know what, that sucks. Even Mulder had Scully.
**** 5. Do you have a Halloween tradition?
Nah. My family isn’t big into traditions. One year, we made a pork roast for Thanksgiving instead of turkey. Mistake, by the way. Watching the Dallas Cowboys while eating pork roast and elbow macaroni–wrong.
**** 6. Do your parents share your love of horror?
My dad’s more into science fiction, although he does have a collection of vintage Eerie and Creepy magazines. My mom introduced me to Stephen King and Anne Rice, but that’s as far as her horror tastes go. I am an abnormality. I’m also the only left-hander in my family; perhaps that has something to do with it.
**** 7. What was your favorite Halloween costume as a kid?
My homemade werewolf costume. Rubber werewolf mask, with fake fur that my mom sewed into one of my dad’s old work shirts, so it looked like the fur had busted through the seams.
**** 8. What book and movie scared you the most?
It, for the book. Movie . . . Jaws. That music. And the idea of something unseen just grabbing you and dragging you under the water, eating you while you’re still alive . . . oh my god, I just freaked myself out.
**** 9. Have you ever had a real life encounter with the supernatural?
Nope. My husband and I once drove down what we thought was the haunted Bragg Road in Saratoga, Texas, chasing what we thought was a ghostly blob of light. It turned out to be a frickin’ porch light.
**** 10. Your second blog, IS MY LENS CAP ON? showcases your photography. What inspires you to snap a photo?
Lately, I’ve been big on candid shots. If I see someone just hanging out, buying gas or talking to someone, I’ll snap their picture. I photograph stuff that interests me . . . I have like 6 different shots of this growth on a tree. For some reason, that bumpy growth fascinated me.
**** 11. Have you ever taken a snap shot of something you couldn’t explain?
My cat, Mackerel, when she was a kitten. So sweet, so innocent then. So bloodthirsty, so predatory now. I don’t know what happened.
**** 12. What do you see in your future for your photography and novels?
Big-ass dollars. Just kidding. Photography . . . I don’t know, it’s a hobby. I don’t know if I have the passion to take it any further. My novels . . . okay, a TV series would be great, as would action figures, but right now I’d settle for getting published. To be optimistic, I do see getting published in the near future. I’d like for my novel, Bulletproof Werewolf, to take off enough so that it could become the ongoing series I had planned.
**** 13. What is the one thing that scares you most?
Have to rip off Stephen King for this one. He once said that he’d be okay as long as the words came. He said he was scared that one day the words would stop coming. Long-term writer’s block, I guess. So, not being able to write scares me. Also, those “reborn baby dolls”. Have you seen those? Brrrrr.
IF YOU’D LIKE TO BE FEATURED FOR SPaM CONTACT email@example.com
Below is a picture of my house that I took on October 30, 2010
Below is a picture I took from my window this morning.
You’ll notice “Fred” is missing from this picture. That’s because Jack Frost kicked his ass.
Yes people, that’s snow. It doesn’t look like I’ll be getting to that other tire pile anytime soon.
As for the crappy photo; let’s just say I dropped my phone in a giant tire-sized mud puddle yesterday.
The town where I live is somewhat touristy, especially now that the leaves are turning and the crisp autumn scent of the upcoming primaries hangs in the air. Because of the season my town puts a lot of effort into making itself visitor friendly, which is why I make a lot of effort to get the hell out of here whenever I can.
One of my favorite places to go is a secluded pond behind where I work. My kids and I used to ride our bikes there during the summer to go fishing and to have cookouts and campfires. And even though the pond is great and the fishing is amazing, what makes this place truly spectacular is what lies beyond the pond. It’s a place I like to call…The Thunderdome.
Now, The Thunderdome isn’t for everyone. In fact, I’m fairly certain I’m the only person who hangs out there. Half brush yard, half quarry; The Thunderdome is a vast, open expanse of churned up dirt, rocks and dumped debris from God only knows where. But I love this place with a passion that I can only describe as, “spread my ashes here” will-worthy. For someone as solitary as I am The Thunderdome is a close to Heaven on earth as it gets.
Before today the last time I was there was almost two years ago. Out of nowhere I developed problems with my joints that made it almost impossible for me to move, so any activity that wasn’t absolutely necessary to function was abandoned. Without knowing what an ultra active person I am in real life, I don’t think I can adequately describe how devastating this was to me. The one good thing to come out of that time was my book, a project I knew was necessary to keep me from coming mentally unhinged.
As time went on I managed to get some sort of control over my health to the point that now I’m nearly back to normal. Naturally the very first thing I did was head out into The Thunderdome, specifically to the tire pile I walked past for years, and started stacking tires. In the BEFORE picture you’ll see two tire piles; the pile to the right contains tires with rims, the pile to left are rimless. In the AFTER picture you’ll see what I did with the rimless tires. I’d also like you to notice how it looks like there are more tires in the finished pile than what you initially see. That’s because they were buried, people.
I’m going to describe New Hampshire soil in one word. SLOP. It’s a mixture of wet sand and desiccated granite that acts like quick sand when trying to lift a half-sunk hundred pound tire out of it. So remembering everything I could about levers and fulcrums and Archimedes I grabbed some rocks and downed branches and managed to manuever all the tires out of the mire fairly easily. All except for one. Out of the two hours and seven minutes (yes, I timed it) I spent stacking tires, over an hour and forty minutes was dedicated to one tire alone. I threw everything I could think of at it but it wouldn’t budge. As I stood in the rain (yes, it was raining) staring down at a 12ply, 40 inch tire sunk in the slop, the words I’d said to my kids for years came back to haunt me.
“If you’ve got a job to do, just do it.”
So I gathered my Italian compulsion to conquer, my Irish bull-headedness, borrowed some Greek ingenuity and with German music on my ipod for inspiration I dug down under the tire and finally lifted it straight up to standing. That’s when a HUGE spider crawled across the back of my hand, and remembering something I read about moving rocks and spider bites I freaked out and dropped the tire. On my foot.
Even though my hands are raw and I have bruises everywhere and probably a few broken toes it was the best day ever, because I did a job I set out to do. I was so proud of myself in fact that when I got home I dug out the book my kid Prince Charming keeps to jot down quotes and sayings he hears that influence him to add my two cents worth. As I flipped to the page that had his last quote; a recent one from Theodore Roosevelt, something caught my eye. On the top of the page before my kid had written:
“If you’ve got a job to do, just do it.” – Mom
BEST. DAY. EVER.
The thing I love most about doing SPaM (Shameless Promotion Mondays) posts is researching the blogger behind the blog. Since today’s SPaM post features KAYJAI’S BLOG I was more than a little excited to learn what just what it is that makes Kayjai tick. Apparently the answer to that question is underwear. In song form. Or conversations with the DH Ladies. And let’s not forget, Eddie Pee-Pee Head.
But I must say that with all her truly hilarious posts none made me laugh more than her Top Ten Lists. These aren’t your everyday Top Ten “Mommy” Lists, either. Not with titles like:
So in the spirit of Top Ten lists I give you:
THE TOP TEN THINGS YOU WISH YOU KNEW ABOUT KAYJAI!
**** 1. What would you consider to be your best personality trait?
I have the ability to read minds…AND I love a good laugh. That’s why I’m married…
**** 2. What do you think is your worst personality trait?
Total arrogance regarding what constitutes “good television.” I’m also directionally challenged and prone to wandering. I have a GPS but refuse to use it as I think it’s an embarrassing apparatus designed to piss me off with the robotic woman voice incessantly saying “recalculating, recalculating’”every time I miss the turn off…which is every time…
**** 3. You wake up Saturday morning and everyone has left you alone for the day. What do you do?
First of all, I would hazily attempt to recall the events of the previous evening that would cause such an occurrence as the total abandonment by my family. Then, I would wander aimlessly around the house searching for said family members. Finally, I would admit defeat, eat all the chocolate, situate my ass on the couch nearest the television and prepare to be brain washed by mindless sitcoms for 8 hours. (I say 8 hours, since that would be the ultimate limit to my family’s ability to leave me alone).
**** 4. Your favorite thing about your spouse:
**** 5. If you could choose a superpower, what would it be and why?
Well, since I am already adept at mind-reading, I would have to choose the old invisibility trick. Just think…read minds WHILE remaining invisible…I could RULE the world..or at the very least, the Eastern portion of Canada…
**** 6. If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?
My neighbour’s basement. It’s awesome down there..big screen TV, comfy couch, fridge, bathroom…man, I’d have it made! Wait..that’s my basement..hmm…I’ll get back to you on that one..
**** 7. Your favorite book/favorite meal/favorite sport:
There’s a lot of favorite books, but Stephen King’s Bag of Bones is it right now. My favorite meal consists of anything I didn’t have to cut, peel, skin, bake, cook or serve. I’d eat pig’s eyes if someone cooked them, fancied them up and served them to me. My what? Favorite Sport? WTF? I don’t do sports…I run..that’s it. If Hubby’s lucky I’ll watch a period of hockey with him just to make him feel better..that’s it.
**** 8. Your favorite movie/food/song that you secretly like but don’t want to admit:
Meatballs with Canada’s funniest man, Bill Murray. That’s a movie…an old one…made me spit coke out my nose..wait, that didn’t sound right. I meant Coca-Cola…not the other kind. You’ve misunderstood. Move on…
**** 9. What job do you wish you had?
A job where I could write all day, read everyone’s blog, surf the internet, socialize with people, help a scattered young person with their ADHD ( I could help you, you know), or learning difficulty and get paid….wait, I am doing that. I’m fucking awesome!! Never mind…I have the perfect job…If that job doesn’t pan out, I’ll become a Pirate. I already have the eye-patch and doo-rag.
**** 10. Your favorite swear word:
Wow, lately I have a lot of those, but if I had to pick one, my all-time favorite is fuckwit. Yeah…I ripped it off Bridget Jones’s Diary and it pretty much describes half the population. Feel free to rip it off, too.
In addition to blogging our friend Kayjai is a bit of a writer. Here’s what she had to say about her latest endeavor:
“I enjoy writing short stories and have a few posted under my fiction category. I ran a couple of series, one was Spyglass set in St. John’s, Newfoundland. The other was a co-writing project that a buddy and I wrote together. I would write a chapter, then he would write one and I would write the next one and so on. We would post our chapters on each of our blogs, thus if you wanted to read the whole series, you would have to visit his site to read the series in it’s entirety. It was originally titled “The Red Balloon” and was a very interesting and challenging project.
Unfortunately, I write faster than he does and I would end up waiting to see where the story would go for days before I could write a responding chapter. It takes patience, but the end result was very good. I am in the throes of writing a novel, sort of a mystery/suspense job and it’s going, just very slowly. I continually, almost obsessively, write short stories and send them off to anyone who would read them…still waiting to get something published.”
If you’d like to be featured on SPaM (Shameless Promotion Mondays) contact me at: firstname.lastname@example.org
Alright, so I suppose I should have written a post today but I couldn’t because I can’t put down the new book I started called GUNS, GERMS, AND STEEL. Even though I write fiction I prefer to read non-fiction and I am absolutely hooked on this book. But I promise not to leave you completely empty handed. My friend and blogger Les over at BESTBATHROOMBOOKS put out a post the other day that had me in stitches called:
Even if bloggers working blue isn’t your cup of tea I highly recommend taking a trip over as he handles this topic with a delicate but humorous hand.
Real world me works in the local school system, volunteers with children’s activities and coaches/consults on high school sports teams. At any given time I’ve got fifteen to twenty teenage boys staying/sleeping/living all over my house, and real world me is a legend among the women in my town because of it. I cannot tell you how many times women my age or older approach me and ask how I manage to keep my hormones to myself with that many boys around. What I ask them is:
WHY ON EARTH WOULD I WANT A TEENAGE BOY?!
So for all you ladies out there who think the younger guy is the way to go, let me give you a run down of my typical Saturday morning (keep in mind, most of these boys are over age eighteen):
6am: Wake up to ceiling plaster falling on my head because Junior cranked up his amp in order to demonstrate his latest Flea imitation with his new bass guitar. I text him to turn it down but he can’t hear the phone over the reverb.
6:15am: Step over a dozen boys crashed out on my living room floor on the way to the kitchen to make coffee, only to find grounds spread everywhere; my secret high-end coffee bag empty and tossed to the floor NEXT to the garbage can.
6:30am: I attempt to make a desperate phone call to the ex, begging for donuts and coffee but first have to wade through fifty plus messages left by the giggling girls calling Prince Charming (he shuts his cell phone off at night so he can get some sleep. Naturally they call the house instead).
6:45am: Go back to bed and wait for ten or more boys to take showers before I can get mine. Ladies, this is not as hot as you might think. Teenage boys smell worse coming out of the shower than they do when they went in. I don’t know how it happens, but it happens.
8:00am: Gather my clothes for a mad dash to the shower only to discover I have one remaining pair of “underthings” left in my drawer. I dig through the bathroom hamper to do a load of laundry and find most of my “underthings” missing. You heard me right, ladies. MISSING. I don’t even want to begin to think about why they’re doing that.
8:30am: The ex finally arrives with donuts for everyone and no coffee for me. The ex takes Mini Me for the day, and I listen to Prince Charming and half the superfluous boys tear out of the driveway in their ridiculously loud, lifted trucks. I go back to bed and listen to the remaining boys in the next room giggle and snicker about sex.
Now here’s where it all goes horribly, horribly wrong.
Ladies, they know NOTHING. Sure, they know body parts and what goes where, but beyond that they are completely oblivious about anything that makes sex great. Yeah…serve me up a big slice of THAT.
I’ve consulted with a few of my sisters-in-sin; SPARKLEBUMPS, LIFEINTHEFARCELANE and SAVOR THE FOLLY, and they are as lost for an explanation as I am. In my opinion males don’t begin to become remotely interesting until they’re at least
forty thirty-nine (per JB). I mean it when I say that I’ll take gray around the temples over a hairless chest any day. So to all you Twilight-esque Moms I just have to ask:
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
Next week’s SPaM features KAYJAI’S BLOG
Have a blog, book or music to promote? Contact me for your own feature on SPaM at email@example.com
Just when I think his blog can’t get anymore awesome EDWARD HOTSPUR comes up with an idea so beyond amazing I can barely wrap my mind around it. Behold:
You read that right. Choose your own blog adventure. I embarrassed to admit how much time I’ve spent clicking around his blog following the adventures of Granite Countertop, private eye. So much time in fact that I never got the post written for today that I had planned. That post will have to wait until Tuesday because I’m heading back to choose another adventure now.
I’ve decided to do something a little different with my post today. I think it’s finally time to give all of you a glimpse into my very, very weird world. Starting with my Busey Clock. Yes, you read that right.
BUSEY. MOTHERF*CKING. CLOCK.
As you can see this clock has Mr. Gary Busey’s face on every hour as well as on the ends of the arms, adding “action” to the “menacing” quality of the Busey Clock. There is no rhyme or reason for this clock; no birthday or holiday with which to celebrate that would be improved by the addition of a Busey Clock. But like everything else in my world, it exists purely out of sheer awesomeness. Sadly, the Busey Clock is not for sale, as it is a custom item created for me by my very disturbed and often intoxicated best friend, better known in the comments as “Not the Broth.” Now onto number two:
THE STAIRS THAT LEAD TO NOWHERE.
What you don’t know about real world me is that real world me is a cheap bastard, and I refuse to pay money for something I can either fix/craft/jerry-rig myself or get for free (my proudest moments are when I can actually maneuver enough to get PAID to do what I want). I see no point in joining a gym and paying for a membership when I live in one of the most visually stunning and outdoor friendly environments in world. So you can imagine my absolute glee the day I discovered the stairs that lead to nowhere.
For some reason that I’ve yet to understand, there are two sets of marble and granite stairs in the middle of the 100 acres of forest behind my house. I’ve done the research at my town’s local historical society and the best I can figure is that they served some purpose to connect a trail leading from the road in front of my house to a long ago burned down monastery behind it. Whatever their purpose, I see no reason to pay for a gym membership to use a stair master when a perfectly good set of steps exists on property I already pay taxes on. As far as I’m concerned this is my own personal stairway to Scrooge heaven. And last but not least:
I don’t remember exactly when we got Fred but it seems like he’s been with us forever, and my kids will tell you that no holiday is complete without him. Fred makes his appearance every October 1st and stays on through Christmas. He’s been known to sit at the dinner table with us for Thanksgiving and more than one Christmas I’ve woken up to find him sitting underneath the tree.
Here’s another thing you might not know about real world me. Real world me HATES Fred. Fred scares the crap out of real world me, so every damn year I try to throw him away and every damn year he’s right back with the Halloween decorations. I think Fred’s trying to kill me…
My oldest kid, the seventeen year-old Prince Charming, is good at math. Good enough to figure out all on his own that he had a lot to do with why I never went to college. Recently, with the encouragement and support of fellow bloggers I decided to finally soldier up and do what I’ve always talked about doing; going to school. I know adults go to college all the time, but I can’t begin to express to you how totally out of my comfort zone this is.
Yesterday I got a pep talk from one blogger in particular that I decided to share with my kid. After I finished reading it my kid stood up, walked to his room and came back carrying his football helmet. He pointed to the inside and there, written across a piece of tape was the phrase, “Leadership is action, not position.” This wasn’t the first time I’d seen this written inside his helmet, but until last night I’d forgotten all about it.
My kid has played football every year since he was ten years-old; first in the Pee Wee league and then on into high school. And even though he’s played every position there is, it was the middle linebacker position that seemed the best fit. He held that position for three years before high school.
Then the day came for the high school football team try outs. He wanted that middle linebacker position more than anything and took the field hell-bent on making sure no one out performed him. No one did.
But he didn’t get middle linebacker. The town selectman’s son did. The son who never played a game of football a single day in his life. The son who never showed up to a practice straight and most days didn’t show up at all. The son of the town selectman who approved the budget for the new lights for the football field. A tough lesson for my kid to learn at thirteen.*
Now my kid’s got a temper, so I had a whole speech lined up and ready to give just as soon as I thought he was ready to hear it. But instead of ranting and raving and quitting the team like I thought he would, he wrote “Leadership is action, not position” on a piece of tape, stuck it to the inside of his helmet and without saying a word took the field at left tackle.
Last night I asked him what was going through his mind that first day, and why he didn’t react the way I thought he would. And that’s when my kid said, “After Coach announced the positions I tried to talk to him but he wouldn’t look me in the eye. That’s when I knew for sure he rolled over. So instead of walking I decided to play like I always play, no matter how messed up the reasons were behind it. I take the field to win for myself. It doesn’t matter how you get where you’re going in order to be successful, you just need to play to win. And I’m sure you will too.”
Yeah, I broke my “no cry” rule.
Now here’s some history on why my kid is awesome. I’m warning you, it’s not going to be brief.
- This is a kid who refused to take the field at the start of a football game because the opposing team couldn’t be bothered to stand for the Star Spangled Banner. He stood his ground until they did it over.
- This is a kid who got illegally slammed during the playoffs, swore up and down he was fine and refused to leave the field. Later at the hospital we found out he played the last three quarters of the game with two cracked ribs (as a parent I was horrified, but secretly I thought it was pretty badass).**
- In eighth grade he stood up for some shy girls who were being picked on by some mean girls. Those shy girls, as well as quite a few others banded together and made a fan club in his honor, complete with buttons with his picture on it. You better believe Junior never lets him forget this.
- He was hand selected by the high school guidance counselor to be the lead peer mentor for an in school program that works with at risk kids.
- Has grown his hair to donate to the LOCKS OF LOVE charity three times.
- Was the only junior firefighter mentioned by name and honored in a ceremony by the Fire Chief for setting up a shelter during the ice storm that knocked power out of our region for nearly a month. He was fourteen years old.
- His volunteer efforts are too numerous to mention and he can often be seen digging out fire hydrants after snow storms or changing tires on the side of the road for little old ladies. No joke. It made the paper.
But life hasn’t been easy for my kid. Despite his best efforts he struggles for grades, and because of his looks was often a target for bullying when he was younger. The bullying quickly faded in high school when boys figured out that wherever there were girls, there was my kid (hence the nickname, Prince Charming).***
- Despite the fact that my younger son Junior is a living legend in our town, Prince Charming is Junior’s biggest fan and champion and never begrudges him a minute of his uber popularity.
- When his best friend decided to come out of the closet my kid was the only one who stood by him, and in the process lost many so-called “friends” and invitations to parties because of it. When the friend’s father kicked this boy out, my kid asked if he could live with us. He’s been with us for over a year now.
- His sophomore year my kid had a girlfriend named Rebekah. After her father was diagnosed with terminal cancer my kid spent every weekend the last month of this man’s life helping out with household chores like chopping wood and working on the family car. My kid was at this man’s home everyday for a week before he died, and delivered his first eulogy at the funeral. He delivered his second a week later when Rebekah was killed in a car accident herself. My kid was fifteen years-old.
With all the craziness that goes on in my day-to-day life it’s all too easy for me to forget just how amazing this kid is. Every decision I’ve made since he was born was to benefit him, so it’s almost impossible for me to imagine a time when I would do something strictly for myself. When I told him this he said, “I’m almost eighteen, which is technically a man, so now you can’t say you didn’t go to school because you had a kid to raise.” Then he handed me an algebra textbook he borrowed from school and said, “Now get to work.”
* Ten days after positions were handed out the town selectman’s kid got busted for selling weed. Guess who got middle linebacker after all.
** The best tackle of the day wasn’t made by the opposing team against my kid; it was made by me slamming Junior as he shouted at the top of his lungs from the stands, “HEY KID! YEAH YOU! I SAW WHAT YOU DID TO MY BROTHER EVEN IF THE REF DIDN’T! YOU BETTER GET SOMEONE TO WALK YOU THROUGH THE PARKING LOT ‘CUZ I’M GONNA–” Yeah, that’s when I dropped him.
*** Last year my kid disappeared for about an hour or so every Wednesday night around 7pm. to “take a walk.” I began to get concerned so I flat-out asked him what was going on. Here’s how the conversation went:
KID: “I’m taking tango lessons.”
ME: “Nice try. Should I be worried?”
KID: “I’m serious. I overheard the girls on the dance team say that they were starting tango lessons at the dance academy downtown.”
ME: “Yeah, so?”
KID: “So how many guys do you think are going to join up? I’ll tell you how many. None. Now all those girls are going to need someone to practice dancing with. Think about it.”
Interesting side note, his plan worked so well that he went on to join the dance team officially. His football coaches are NOT happy.
When real world me can’t sleep real world me watches late night television. The other night I caught Gilligan’s Island and it got me thinking; what would the IMONTHEBANDWAGON boys do if they were lost at sea?
So of course, I had to ask:
*** 1. While on tour your plane experiences engine trouble and the pilot advises you to prepare for a water landing. As the plane plummets toward the ocean you visualize your funeral. What celebrity would each of you want to deliver your eulogy?
MIKE: Hmmm hard questions.
JOWETT: With the amount of people you have pissed off, there wouldn’t be a point in having a funeral for you, no one would turn up.
JOWETT: People would turn up after, to dance on your grave. Mind you there wouldn’t be enough room. They would have to scatter your ashes in Ibiza.
RYAN: I would have someone funny.
MIKE: Well if I can’t have a funeral, you wouldn’t be able to!
RYAN: I haven’t pissed anyone off.
MIKE: Well you’re always with me when I have said something.
MIKE: Guilty by association.
RYAN: What about Joel?
MIKE: Nah people like him.
JOEL: I would have Adam Brody.
MIKE: Who’s that?
JOWETT: He’s an American actor? Isn’t he? Wasn’t he in The OC?
MIKE: Why him?
JOEL: He owe’s me a favour.
JOEL: I met him once and I did him a favour, so he owes me one.
MIKE: Not because you think he’s a good actor then? Literally because…
JOEL: He owe’s me one.
JOWETT: This isn’t like ringing up one of your mates that knows a bit about plumbing when your dishwasher packs in. “Right I’ll give Adam a bell, he owe’s me one!”
JOEL: I stand by it.
*** 2. After the plane crashes into the ocean the three of you swim to the shore of an uncharted island. Who do you choose to be the leader, and why?
RYAN: I really don’t like the sound of this idea.
MIKE: It would be alright. I would be the leader obviously.
RYAN: That’s alright mate, I would just…. swim off.
MIKE: It would be a laugh! I would be a good leader, Keep morale going until we were being rescued.
JOWETT: No chance, you would be a vile little bastard after about…3 hours.
JOWETT: “I’m going to fall out with the next person that doesn’t listen to my complaints about the sand.”
JOWETT: And what about this, the next question is…
*** 3. You search the island only to discover that there is a limited food supply. You come to the grim realization that once the food supply is exhausted; one of you is going to have to be eaten. Which one of you is it?
JOEL: (Sounding offended) Awww!
RYAN: Sorry mate but, sometimes even now I forget you are around.
MIKE: True. And I just couldn’t put up with your questions “So, what WAS Goofy?”
JOEL: Well what was….
MIKE: I’M WARNING YOU!
*** 4. Miraculously a search plane finds you before you are forced to resort to cannibalism. Once you return home, what is the first thing you eat/drink/do?
RYAN: I dunno, I would probably still be stressed.
MIKE: How you gonna snap yourself out of that? Book a holiday?
MIKE: I would get home, sit down and think, “Life is short and you have to make the most of it and waste any moment” and then continue with my legal case against the writers of ‘Lost’ for wasting people’s time.
JOEL: I would start on my auto-biography, early, entitled “My mates were going to eat me you know.”
*** 5. Impressed by your bravery, Her Majesty the Queen invites you for tea. You are instructed that you are allowed to ask for one thing of Her Majesty. What does each of you ask for?
JOWETT: I know what this would be.
JOWETT: Knew it. Shit answer.
MIKE: Well! Wouldn’t you?
JOWETT: For what? Living on a Desert island for a bit?
MIKE: WITH JOEL!
JOWETT: Yeah fair point.
MIKE: Failing that, I would want to have as much money as Chris Martin because, let’s face it, it’s not fair, OR I’d ask for all British money to be printed with a picture of Gwyneth Paltrow, filing for divorce.
RYAN: Erm I’d ask her if she really didn’t have anything to do with the death of Princess Diana.
JOWETT: Well done, that sentence ensuring this whole concept will never happen.
JOEL: An hour in Kate Middleton’s bedroom.
JOWETT: Final nail in the coffin! Thanks lad’s!
*** CLICK ON THE PICTURE BELOW FOR A RANDOM POST FROM JOWETT AND THE BOYS! ***
Follow the IMONTHEBANDWAGON blog
Follow IMONTHEBANDWAGON on Facebook
Follow them on Twitter @jowettbandwagon
Got a question of your own? email the boys at: firstname.lastname@example.org
This is a scarlet maple tree in my front yard. And before any of you car enthusiasts/purists mention it; yes, I am aware that my 1968 Impala has a 1969 Biscayne rear bumper. Trust me, this will be rectified come spring.
The focus of today’s SPaM (Shameless Promotion Monday) is on a girl after my own heart. How could I resist someone who named her blog SHERBERT BOMB and describes herself as “a socially awkward, word-loving, punk-rocking, bad-dancing, shy-singing, nickname-bestowing, lego-building, scribble-talking, day-dreaming, lover, hater, procrastinator, joker, fighter and story-writer.”
But she really broke out the big guns when she described her blog as “funny fantasy stories and some old poetry written mostly back in high school. In the not so distant future it will feature stories about Roller Derby, aliens, zombies, family, super heroes, ghosts and graffiti.”
That’s right, people. ROLLER FRIGGIN’ DERBY.
Yeah, I’m sold. So much so in fact that I’ve created a page called WRITER’S CORNER above where I will feature short stories and poems by writers who’d appreciate feedback. The ever brave “Sherbie” has volunteered to be its first featured writer so be sure to check it out. Now let’s get down to it.
* You describe your writing style as “comedic fantasy adventure, dripping with description and color, with occasional horror scenes.” Is there a specific influence to your writing?
“Pretty much everything influences me; music, books, comics, street art. If I listen to Dropkick Murphys or The Bronx I want to write about fighting. UFC makes me want to write about relationships (there is a chain of thought which has nothing to do with violence but it’s too long and convoluted for me to share, and probably only amusing to me). If I watch a Judd Apatow movie I want to write about stoners. Most things make me want to write.”
“Some stories to come are Graffitiland which is about street art acting out of character, Boyfriend is a Four Letter Word which is probably the most serious story I’ll ever write about a young woman in an unsatisfactory relationship, and there will be more Splat Pack, your friendly neighbourhood roller derby super heroes. And some more of my teen-angsty poems that are being made suitable for human consumption; 16 in Limbo, Bird in a Cage, and Words on a Page. I didn’t intentionally rhyme that. I’m a poet and I wasn’t aware.”
* You state in your blog that you’re working on a novel, so how’s that coming?
“At the moment it’s not much more than an idea. A really freakin’ awesome idea which got awesomer last night when I was reading comics online. It’s hard to describe because there’s going to be a lot going on. The working title is Phantasmagoria, which gives nothing away really except that I might be a little bit pretentious. It might have zombies in it. I’ve been reading Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. See how my brain works? It’s very uncomplicated.”
* I also noticed in your blogroll that you have two links to Roller Derby sites. Are you a fan or a Derby girl yourself? And if you are, what name do you skate under?
“I’m a fan. We have some awesome teams here in Oz. I’m hoping Santa will bring me some skates though so I can practice speed skating at the basketball courts across the road. I had a knee operation a couple of months ago and realized that if I don’t start doing all the things I talk about wanting to do, they’ll always be things I just talk about. So hopefully soon I will be known as Sherbert Bomb by day, and by night, Georgie St Pierre (GSP is my favourite and the foxiest UFC fighter ever).”
* You’re the first featured writer on the WRITER’S CORNER page. What sort of feedback are you hoping to receive on your writing?
“I’m really interested to know what I do well, but since my mum already has that covered, constructive criticism is more than welcome. My writing is evolving quite a lot right now and above all else I want my stories to be interesting, so I want to be told if that is not the case. I’m also venturing into funny territory and even though I think I’m a riot it’d be good to know what other people think too. I think there may also be a thumbs up or thumbs down button, so if peeps can’t be arsed writing a comment we can go all Commodus on this shiznit.”
Sorry boys, but I think I’m in love.
For more stories of random awesomeness and balls-out Derby goodness follow our girl at SHERBERT BOMB
For Sherbie’s first story feature “The Boy and the Shark – A Not Quite Fairy Tale” head to the top of the page to WRITER’S CORNER
Next week’s SPaM features the ever silky smooth blogger and player extraordinaire Ronnie of THE LIBRA CHRONICLES
So on the prompting of a certain wunderkind who calls himself THE ELITE I’ve decided to actually sit down and watch these movies back to back. I’m leaving now to watch Star Wars and I’ll return to the post with an assessment when I’m done.
So Han was hot and all but Luke was super annoying. I honestly don’t know how Han didn’t just kick him off the Millennium Falcon on day one. I also wanted to smack C3PO upside the head throughout most of the movie.
But if you ask me, what made the entire film was Chewbacca. Honestly, if I’d known more about his character it wouldn’t have taken me so long to see this movie. He’s the only one that makes any sense and he doesn’t have a single coherent line of dialogue! Now, onto EMPIRE!
Lando’s kind of a dick, but my boy Chewbacca nearly tears him to pieces so that was wicked awesome. I also wish at some point Yoda would have kicked Luke’s whiny ass right into the swamp. Best of all I FINALLY got to see the “Luke, I am your father” scene I’ve always heard people talk about.
But the part that pissed me off most was that at the end of the movie Han is still frozen. I suppose I’m not so upset about it for my sake, seeing as I’m about to watch the next movie in a moment, but I can’t imagine what it must have been like back in the day when people had to wait years for it to hit the theaters. Alright, time to bring on JEDI!
Please all you fans out there, tell me the whole reveal of the “Luke/Leia twin” thing was a late to the table script add-on and not part of the original story arc. Because I went back and skimmed through Empire looking for a specific moment I was sure I saw and……..yeah.
As usual, Chewy rocked. Jabba was awesome and the Ewoks were…well, let’s just say they were cute, but I’m trying to understand why they were necessary. And…I kind of wish Luke didn’t take off Vader’s mask, but that’s just me.
All in all I’d have to say that the movies were excellent, even though I watched them after seeing more recent CGI fueled films like Transformers. And while I doubt I’ll be attending any conventions any time soon, I finally understand how the fans are as dedicated to the films as they are.
Now, my original plan was to watch the next three movies or prequels tomorrow; but my boys made me promise to wait a couple of days. They said they want the euphoria of me finally getting to see the original three wear off before I watched the next ones and got really, really mad.
Whatever that means.
MOM: (opens present, sneers in disgust) “Oh that’s just great.”
ME: “What is it?”
MOM: “It’s a CD. Celine Dion.”
ME: “Uh…ok. I didn’t know you had such a problem with Celine Dion. Glad to know for once we agree on something.”
MOM: “Of course I have a problem with her. She tore up a picture of the Pope.”
ME: “She did? I never heard of her doing that. When did this happen?”
MOM: “Oh, it was years ago, on that show there…the funny one your father used to watch, you know which one I’m talking about.”
ME: “No, mom as usual I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
MOM: “You know, the show with the Church Lady…your father watched it every Saturday…”
ME: (comprehension slowly washes over me) “Mom…are you talking about Saturday Night Live?”
MOM: “YES! That was it. She tore up a picture of the Pope on that show.”
ME: (laughing) “No she didn’t. That was Sinead O’Connor.”
MOM: “Sinead O’ Who?”
ME: “Sinead O’Connor. She’s a singer from Ireland. She’s the one who tore up the picture, not Celine Dion.”
MOM: “OH!!! Well then, let’s listen to the CD.”
ME: “NO! NO! IT WAS CELINE DION! IT WAS I SWEAR!!!!!”
Awarded to those folks that recently bravely fought in, showed exceptional bravery and valor in, and then survived, unscathed, the now infamous “Monty Python and the Holy Grail Holy War Blog Apocalypse Mudslinging Shoutfest of 2011 presented by Depends Undergarments.”
FELLOW HONORED RECIPIENTS ARE AS FOLLOWS:
Miranda at Scattering Moments
Lisa at Woman Wielding Words
Jamie at The Life of Jamie.
Steve at The Odd Ramblings
Tori at The Ramblings
Mrs. Firepants at whatimeant2say
Sparrow at Sparrow’s Ramblings
Jackie at The Slowvelder
nrhatch at Spirit lights the Way
Blog buddy John Erickson (No blog)
My Blonde Cousin Whitney (No blog)
In order to receive my award, adherence to the following rules is mandatory:
1. You must display this award on your own blog so that others will know of your service and bravery. – DONE AND DONE.
2. You must do a solo interpretive dance to any 70′s Disco song of your choice, preferrably while wearing underwear. I ONLY WEAR UNDERWEAR WHILE I POLKA. DISCO IS STRICTLY DONE COMMANDO.
3. You must list on your blog, or in comments to this post, a detailed description of your most embarrassing obsessive-compulsive disorder affliction: IT IS PHYSICALLY IMPOSSIBLE FOR ME TO READ A MAGAZINE FROM FRONT TO BACK. BEING LEFT-HANDED, I FIND IT EASIER TO READ IT BACKWARDS. CANNOT MAKE MYSELF READ IT THE OTHER WAY.
4. You must try to visit at least 3 new blogs today. Go to blogs you already visit and then visit the the blogs of 3 commenters who’s blogs you have never visited. I HAVE VISITED ALL OF THE ABOVE!
5. You must approach someone within your family, workplace, or school, that is obviously having a bad day, and you must grab them by the shoulders, shake them violently if needed, and then scream at the top of your lungs…”Lighten up already!! SMILE!!!! Life is too freaking short to be in a bad mood!!!” If you honestly have no one you can accost, a small pet, toy, stuffed animal, or ham, will also work. AS A MATTER OF FACT I DID THAT VERY THING THIS MORNING! ALL IT GOT ME WAS A LONG, RAMBLING FOLLOW-UP EMAIL HAVING SOMETHING TO DO WITH ATHEISM…
AND NOW TO YOU, DEAR IDIOT; MY FELLOW “FUNK-BUDDY” I GIVE YOU MY FAVORITE FUNK SONG OF ALL TIME!
Like every good middle child, Junior was beyond not happy when he found out that I wrote a post about his brother, Prince Charming and not him. Not wanting to tempt fate with another phone call from his school as a result of his attention seeking behavior, I promised Junior I’d write a post about him today. Yeah, easier said than done.
First, he insisted there be pictures because as he puts it he’s, “dead sexy.” The problem is I can never keep the boy in clothes (he’d be naked 24/7 if I let him), so pictures of him are hard to come by. I decided to include these pictures from when he was nine years-old as they do a great job of summing up the first half of Junior’s personality, which is an all encompassing love of music.
Now, onto the second half. It would take all day to list every consequence of his thrill seeking, sometimes oppositional, always comedic personality. So I think the best way to sum up Junior’s second half is to list every creature that has ever bitten, pinched, snapped or stung him (I left off obvious ones like black flies or mosquitos).
Wasps, yellow jackets, hornets, etc.
Scorpions (small Florida scorpions, not the big evil ones)
Fire ants (fell into a pile of them. It was awful).
Grub (I think. He was digging in the dirt and pulled this small, white circular thing off his finger. It bled like crazy).
Gila Monster (needed shots for this one)
Non-venomous snakes (not sure what kind. It was a friend’s pet)
Baby snapping turtle
Crayfish (crawdads, mudbugs, etc).
Shark (not a great white but a Florida sand shark. It left a small, dog sized/shark mouth shaped bite on his foot. He hates that the scar faded).
Horseshoe crab (stepped on its barbed tail).
Sea Gull (tried to rescue it and it snapped).
Barracuda (caught it fishing, stuck his finger in its mouth on a dare).
* If you ask him he’ll tell you that this was the one that hurt the most. Miraculously lifeguards identified it as a Portuguese Man-O-War and not a jellyfish, because first aid differs greatly between the two.
Luckily he’s never been bitten by simple things like bats, chipmunks or squirrels since a bite from one of them requires rabies shots. I’m sure there’s more, but this is all I can think of at the moment. He’s also been impaled on bicycle handlebars, but reckless teenage injuries are a post for another day.
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…
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. Besides, there are plenty of things going on that just need to be written about. 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. You wouldn’t believe the dumb shit I see in school and working retail. So whenever something stupid happens I’m going to document it. Thus creating an alibi. Of course names will be changed so as to not risk a beating by my idiot friends.
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.
If you or someone you know has something to promote, like a blog or book or music; just email me at email@example.com. DO NOT PUT “SPAM” IN THE SUBJECT BAR.
Today I’m going to call him what his football team calls him: Prince Charming. Even though all day yesterday I called him everything but a child of God.
Prince Charming, you see, is a middle linebacker. And as a middle linebacker he’s responsible for running defensive plays. It’s a tough position, definitely not one for the weak, and it requires him to work out everyday. Since I’ve decided to rejoin my Roller Derby team after taking a year off, I thought he would be the perfect person to whip my soft self into shape.
I started the morning bragging about how I’d worked my way up to 100 crunches without breaking a sweat. Yeah, he wasn’t impressed. Instead of building on my lame-ass work out routine he handed me an empty milk jug filled with water, told me to hold it straight up over my head and sent me marching up and down a steep hill. For an hour.
People, send help. NOW. I swear I just heard him mumbling something that sounded a lot like “knuckle push-ups.” If you don’t notice any new posts on my blog over the next few days, it’s safe to assume that I’ve drowned in a huge puddle of my own lactic acid.
I know I should be above something like this, but I’m sorry, I’m not. This is just too funny for me to pass up. Recently a fellow blogger put out a very funny, very harmless post about MONTY PYTHON AND THE HOLY GRAIL. For some reason another blogger named Neil (he offered his name) raped the shit out of XXXX’s comments. (I’ve chosen to respect the blogger’s privacy by replacing his name with XXXX. As you read on you’ll see why). When XXXX blocked his subsequent comments, Neil did what any self-respecting, sane individual would do. He blasted everyone who commented on XXXX’s post, including me.
BIG. FUCKING. MISTAKE.
Since I can resist anything but temptation I took the liberty of answering his questions. You’ll see them in italics after his answers. Feel free to agree or disagree as you see fit. So without further interruption I give you…NEIL!
DO YOU LIKE PEOPLE LYING ABOUT YOU? I DO NOT! Well thank you for defending me!
I read your post in reply to XXXX’s lies about me and so I shall ask if you believe in Truthfulness, Honor, Honesty. Integrity and Fairness or not? Yeah, I’m gonna go with “Not.” I’m morally compromised. Easier to get laid that way.
IF YOU DO BELIEVE IN THOSE THINGS, THEN METHINKS YOU’LL BOTH READ AND CAREFULLY CONSIDER MY RESPONSE. METHINKS THOU HATH A WORD BONER FOR JOLLY OLDE ENGLAND.
Do you not think it is rational, intelligent and logical to know BOTH sides BEFORE rushing to judgement? “Not…think…” the negatives are giving me SAT flashbacks.
Should you not have the facts BEFORE you agree with XXXX is? Great. Now I have the FACTS OF LIFE theme song stuck in my head. Thanks a lot, douche.
Has it not occurred to you that simply because he writes an entertaining blog and calls himself an Idiot, he is telling the truth? It’s been a while since I had to diagram a sentence, but I’m pretty sure you just exonerated him here.
The facts are that I have a many, many year reputation for being extremely honest and truthful. Many, many a year, but not ALL of them. From 1978-1982 he was known as “Big Daddy Pimp Master.”
In 1964 JUMPING JEHOSEPHAT JUST HOW OLD ARE YOU?! a friend & co-worker at NCR’s Electronic Division where I was supervising the manufacture of the old large main frame computer’s gave me the nick name of “Nasty Neil”
Brain…on…overload. Can…not…process. Shutting…down…
When I asked him (John Shensky) why he had chosen “Nasty Neil” for my nick name, John replied: “Because you like to go down on me after we…” Oh wait, it’s right here:
“It is because you are always telling the truth and most people do not like hearing the truth.” I like my answer better.
XXXX has just proven he is a perfect example of someone who can not handle the truth! XXXX and Tom Cruise have a lot in common. Well, they have THIS in common. I’m assuming XXXX isn’t a dick who can’t act.
I can, and on request, will supply reference after reference from people who have known me for longer than XXXX has been alive. Some of my references could go back to 1948! They COULD go back to 1948. But I’m thinking everyone who knew this guy put bullets in their heads somewhere around 1949.
Here is one of them. It is what Phil Ronca sent me. I served with Phil in “B” Battery, 321st FA, 101st Airborne in the 1959 to 1962 time frame. We finally in (thanks to the internet) got back into contact in 2010,
You are one of the most honest and good men I know and I have always told every one so” I’m betting Phil hasn’t been laid since 1962.
AND You were always a good guy and with a good heart. (Until he stumbled across Brainrants’s post about peanut butter and bacon sandwiches).
that is why I was trying to get in touch with you.” (If you want Phil’s email address, just ask.)
Oh sweet Jesus…
Neil, buddy, you have NO idea what you’ve just done! As I type this I am staring at an empty bottle of Adderall and that, my friend, does not bode well for you. Because let me tell you, I’m gonna stuff your boy’s inbox with so many naked pictures of Abe Vigoda he’ll swear it’s a Fire Island butthole. Seriously, when I get through with him your buddy Phil is gonna pound you into hydrogen fusion, I shit you not.
Ok, now to one of the LIES XXXX told about me. Was it the one where you’re part of a gay two-man act called “Bob and Neil” who perform on the strip in Atlantic City? Oh, that’s the truth. Sorry. Carry on.
As far as I can remember, As far as you can remember? It was yesterday Methuselah! (Our boy Neil here is an atheist, so I doubt he’ll get the reference)
the following is about what I posted as a reply to his blog about the movie “Monty Python and The Holy Grail”
I LOVE THE MOVIE Read – “BONERRRIFIC!”
And I am sure all of my fellow members in the 4 organizations listed below loved it as well. I’m sorry, but I do not believe in any of those organizations.
We are some of those who have realized main reason most religious people believe in the religion they do and in the number of gods they is simply due to who raised them Yeah, I’m thinking we need to give Lazarus a pass on this one.
We realize had we (or they) been raised as a Jew, we would be a Jew, and the same for being a Moslem or a Christian. And we would believe in a single god. On the other hand, had we been raised as a Hindu or a member of the Shinto religion, we would believe in Many gods. I think you mean Manny Godds, the guy who sells plasma screens off the back of a truck down on Fifth Avenue.
As XXXX did NOT allow this reply to be posted, I ASKED him if he was a religious bigot of not? Is that like “days of yore?”
“Neil – No …. I am not a religious bigot…. I just think that publishing a long rambling tirade against all religion as a comment on a movie comedy post is not appropriate. If you care to comment about the actual MOVIE…feel free…. if you want to rant and rave about anything else….go elsewhere Damn it, you sane bastard! You’re ruining my shtick!
So I sent him a reply in which I said things like: “Well XXXX, you have just proven you really honestly are an Actual Real Idiot! The less popular companion to the “Real” Girl Doll
1. NO, “Oh So Totally Clueless One, my post was NOT “a long rambling tirade against all religion” “Totally Clueless”? Why does Father Time here speak like a twelve year-old cheerleader?
2. Are you so brain dead you actually believe Two or Three short paragraphs are “a long rambling tirade against all religion”? Oh, I sooo want to follow this dude on Twitter.
3. And FYI, “Oh So Illogical One” what I posted was NOT “against” religion in the Least. Wait, the Crypt Keeper knows “text” speak?! Yeah, I’m onto you Ashley.
I simply explained why most religious people ARE religious in the first place and why they believe in the number of gods the do in the second place. (IF YOU THINK I AM WRONG, WHERE IS YOUR PROOF AND/OR YOUR LOGICAL REASONS I AM?)
Alright brain buster, let me get this straight. You’re suggesting the only reason we believe what we do is because we were taught to believe it? Then riddle me this: Despite the fact that I was raised in a strict Catholic family, I find that if I don’t masturbate 2 to 3 times a day I run the risk of stabbing someone in the eye with a pencil. Your logic dictates that I should behave as I was raised. See the flaw?
And yet, it seems YOU ARE TO DENSE to be able to comprehend these simple facts! So THAT’S my problem. I’m DENSE! Yeah, I can live with that. Now where are my batteries…
4. IF you actually had a fully functioning logical brain, you would know “Monty Python and The Holy Grail” a Movie you raved about, is MUCH MORE of an ATTACK on Religion (and bunnies) than was ANYTHING I said!
While I had attempted to post my reply, he had already banned me from being able to reply as well as launching his tirade and his LIES about me.
Worse. Than. Stalin.
I thank you for your time
Neil C. Reinhardt
“A 76 year old Pro Iraq War Agnostic Atheist Activist, a former member of management in some of America’s Top 500 corporations, 101st Airborne Vet,
It’s like he’s getting paid by the “A.”
An Iconoclastic, Philosophizing, Deep Sea Diving, Crime Stopping, Beach Volley Ball Playing Grumpy Old Son Of A Beach!”
RIGHT ON MAUDE!