The Hotspur Challenge
Alright E.H. this one’s for you.
Below you will find a link to a song that I absolutely LOVE. Unfortunately, whoever wrote the lyrics suffered a traumatic brain injury because they make abso-fucking-lutely no sense to me. Here’s the challenge should you choose to accept:
RE-WRITE THIS SONG WITH BETTER LYRICS!!!!!
***** HOTSPUR HAS OBLIGED!!!! *****
I was a pale dark boy, loser too cheap for whores
All of your street walk eyes wide on electric toys
Then when your top crossed your chest, I cut my teeth on your leg
Stole me a doggy style and noodled you everywhere
Have I fondled you
Padded girl, vampire, bleeding or lost you
That time of the month
Big string dangling
Now I’m a cat ass trophy
Nothing but store bought come
Watching the warm blood spill through your ass cracks
Dripping on magazine photos
Those open thighs thrown on the bed
And clean flushed in the red monthly stream
Have I fondled you
Padded girl, undead, bleeding or lost you,
That time of the month
Big string stuck going in
XXX SPaM
Draw the curtains and kick the kiddos out of the room because today’s SPaM has gone blue. Our featured blogger is the illustrious R.B. Hatch, author of HAREM’S MASTER; a thrilling novel about love and loss and sex. Lots and lots of sex. Now let’s get down to business.
**** 1. What was your inspiration for Harem’s Master?
My health. When I became physically unable to work my wife took on the responsibility of earning our living. Being an older woman at a time when younger people were being laid off from their jobs, all she could find was low paying, part time work. Getting a book published was the only way I could think off to help her.
**** 2. Why erotica?
The first answer to pop into my mind; did Hugh Heffner go broke peddling sex? Another answer that occurs to me is, why not? The physical might not be up to much anymore, and the flame of passion may not burn as bright as in days of yore, but the interest is still interested.
**** 3. Tell us about your sequel to Harem’s Master.
That would be Harem Master: The Price of Victory; the second in the Harem Master trilogy. Would it surprise you to learn that the hero still gets laid a lot? Other than that, John’s war against crime goes global, but TerraCop has a rotten branch way up near the top of the tree where lives only comrades and friends of many years standing. At that level, the only answer to treason is death. John’s investigations reveal the traitor and he arranges the man’s execution. Then, sorely wounded in mind and spirit, John goes away by himself to pout in peace for a while. Returning to Xanadu, TerraCop’s headquarters, John is critically injured in a plane crash. Barely recovered from his injuries John collects another lady in his harem. Against advise, common sense, and the pleas of his ladies, John accompanies Fox Force and his ladies in what should be the decisive battle of his war. He is very nearly killed and one of ladies dies.
**** 4. Tell us about your futuristic fiction collection and how it ties in with Harem’s Master.
The Stanning Years is a four book series, as of now. The first book, Homesteading, starts on Earth about three hundred years after the events in Harem Master: Armageddon. Young and claustrophobic, Colyn Stanning is desperate to escape from the overcrowded domed city which contains all life left on Earth. While applying for emigration he meets a young lady, Dyanne, with whom he promptly falls in love. Two rugged weeks later they’re married and setting out on the sixty day voyage to the small Terran colony on Capella. Colyn begins to show what he’s made of when he saves the life of another passenger enroute to their new home, and once there, it soon becomes apparent that both he and Dyanne are a cut and a half above the normal run of humanity. Basically, Homesteading brings their abnormalities to the fore and introduces the people who are to be instrumental in their lives.
The Stanning Years: Haying Season, concerns mankind’s first documented contact with an alien species and Colyn and Dyanne’s involuntary involvement.
The Stanning Years: Independence, describes Capella’s first election on achieving independence and the Stanning’s fight against Othar Torrschied, a career criminal with galactic dictatorship on his mind.
The Stanning Years: Conflict. Colyn should have shot Torrschied instead of just exiling him. It’s twenty years later, Torrschied has accumulated a vast force of people with the same high morals as himself and is out to take the Terran Federation by force. This time there is heartbreak in the Stanning’s victory.
**** 5. You state that you used to be a trucker. Did all that alone road time help or hurt your ability to write your book?
It probably helped somewhat. I was more into poetry at that time, what we called poetry back in the dark ages anyway. You know, the stuff that rhymes; about trucks of course. I thought some of it was pretty good and tried peddling it. It didn’t peddle, and I am NOT a peddler. But I think it helped me get through being too shy to put my stuff out there for public scrutiny.
**** 6. Did you always want to be a writer?
Not really. I’ve always enjoyed playing with the written word, but it’s only the last twenty years that I gave any serious thought at all to getting something published.
**** 7. How do you explain your novel’s content to family? Do they admire or admonish you for it?
I don’t. They can like it or live with it. My wife read it through once, said “you can do better than that”, and won’t discuss it. My granddaughter said “grandpas aren’t supposed to think like that”. She’s plenty old enough to know how she got here, but maybe she thinks kids have the corner on being horny.
**** 8. Most of my favorite bloggers are from Canada. What the hell is with you Canadians and your penchant for naughtiness?
Hey! We have to have to have something to do on those long dark winter nights, and short light summer nights, and… Ahem! Keeping active helps keep the igloo warm.
Visit Amazon to purchase HAREM’S MASTER
For more thrilling erotica follow HAREM’S MASTER
Next week’s SPaM features the handsome one known as EL GUAPO
For your own SPaM contact me at heellisgoa@gmail.com
Trifecta Challenge
Thanks to Trask Avenue, Sandy, Hotspur and El Guapo I am compelled to do my own version of the Trifecta Challenge. My apologies for missing the deadline but I’m a blogging loser lately.
“For this weekend’s Trifecta Challenge, we are asking for a 33-word response to the picture below. Make what you will of it; there are no rules. Poetry, prose, comedy, drama–just give us 33 words, on the button. Have fun with it.”
“Look right here. I’m telling you honey, it will fit. I’m sure of it.”
“I don’t care if it will fit. I’m not doing it because it’s gross. Wait, where is my mother?”
The Hellis 100 (71-80)
For the next installment of THE HELLIS 100 I have decided to create a list of some of the best-selling books of all time. Not because of their stellar content or because they are some of my favorites, but because they may well be the most abused and exploited novels ever.
Confused? Alright, I’ll explain:
Have you ever sat next to someone who was reading a book that they were just a little too eager to tell you about? Did you ever wonder why that was? Well I have discovered that there are people out there with no interest in reading great literature, they simply purchase certain books to adopt a perceived “mystique.” Today I am going to save you the ass-pain of figuring out how to differentiate between genuine readers and those with something to prove.
We start our TOP TEN LIST OF BOOKS FOR PEOPLE WHO HAVE AN AGENDA with…
10. David Foster Wallace – INFINITE JEST
Who the reader wants you to think he is: Confident, Educated, Worldly.
Who he REALLY is: An Efete Wanker.
If you look closely enough you’ll see a wet ring around his collar where the captain of the football team gave him a swirly back in high school. And ladies, you better believe he’s still angry about it. This fop is going to employ the pre-emptive “shoot down” by randomly insulting you before you say a word because he assumes you won’t date him. Then he’ll call you a lesbian. To your face.
9. Johnathan Frazen – Freedom
Who the reader wants you to think he is: Intelligent, Powerful, A Man of Consequence.
Who he REALLY is: A Pseudo Intellectual.
Don’t bother saying a thing to this self-aggrandized windbag because he won’t hear a word of it. That’s because your words can’t drown out the sound of his own voice resonating inside his head. This blowhard hasn’t really read the book, he has simply committed to memory The New York Times review of it. Ladies, don’t bother kicking him in the balls because he won’t feel it. All the blood has left his withered nether regions in order to fuel his massive, throbbing ego.
8. Nick Hornby – High Fidelity
Who the reader wants you to think he is: Hip, Urban, Cool.
Who he REALLY is: A Hipster Douche.
My apologies to all you die-hard Hornby fans out there, but just like Fedoras and Elvis Costello Hipsters have ruined this for you. Pray they don’t discover Adult Swim. Oh shit…
7. Douglas Adams – Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
Who the reader wants you to think he is: Quirky, Clever, Witty.
Who he REALLY is: A Self-hating Uber Dork.
This is the man who, when he’s about to ask you out, looks as though he’ll take his own life if you say no. Because despite all his education and life experiences, he doesn’t for one moment believe he has overcome whatever debilitating flaw it was that prevented him from getting laid in high school. If you can stand tears and pu**y worship then ladies; this is the guy for you.
6. Bret Easton Ellis – Less Than Zero
Who the reader wants you to think he is: Edgy, Raw, Unpredictable.
Who he REALLY is: A Basement Dweller.
Chances are you’ll meet this dude in a used bookstore or an underground vinyl den because he is above it all. He’ll tell you all about how he “chose” to leave corporate America and live in his mother’s basement and how it had nothing to do with his raging coke habit. He’s not shy about sharing stories of his latest conquests with anyone who will listen and as awful as that sounds, what you must NEVER do is agree to read his manuscript when he asks you to. And believe me, he will ask. Just. Don’t. Do it.
5. Jodi Picoult – My Sister’s Keeper
Who the reader wants you to think she is: Compassionate, Feminine, Maternal.
Who she REALLY is: A Desperate Housewife.
The only thing needed to push this woman off the razor-thin edge between estrogen laden housefrau and dick-eating femshrew is one bad dumpster bang. Seriously. This woman is so desperate for love she’ll deny her lack of ability to get it and instead play her failure off as female enlightenment. But guys, don’t let this one fool you. She’ll read deeper meaning into every word of the Valentine’s Day card she bought for herself that you would’ve gotten her had you only bothered to get to know her better. Your relationship arc will mirror her favorite soap-opera couple and you will have to check the TV Guide just to find out what is going to happen next. Don’t bother wearing a cup boys; just tear those puppies off and chuck ‘em in a lake. It’s bound to be less painful in the long run.
4. Jack Kerouac – On The Road
Who the reader wants you to think he is: Enlightened, Self-Actualized, Deep-Thinking.
Who he REALLY is: Dangerously Anti-Social.
This one longs for the days of social simplicity and freedom from the shackles of modern society. What that really means is he has absolutely no clue how to relate to others; namely women. Be warned people; this dude is one remote cabin, bad cigarette, loose leaf piece of notebook paper away from penning his “manifesto.”
3. Ernest Hemingway – For Whom The Bell Tolls
Who the reader wants you to think he is: Exciting, Rugged, Dangerously Sexy.
Who he REALLY is: A Closet Rapist
I am going to insert a qualifier here. If you see a college age male or a man over the age of fifty reading Hemingway then you needn’t worry. One is broadening his horizons and the other has lived long enough to appreciate classic literature. But if you see a man around, say…thirty, spouting how Hemingway “knew his shit” then ladies, you need to run. NOW. Because this piece of work uses Hemingway’s genius as a reason to explain away his own hard drinking and random abuses. You’ll hear how he admires the days of “real men” as he cups his iphone instead of his balls and then boasts about how his unwanted sexual advances are really romantic overtures. When you run into this dillhole make sure you hand him a fifth of scotch and a shotgun and tell him to complete the transformation. Expect him not to get it.
2. Nicholas Sparks – The Notebook
Who the reader wants you to think he is: Attentive, Passionate, Nurturing.
Who he REALLY is: The Flaccid Casanova.
This tool appears in all the places that he believes women predominately gather, like yoga class or the self-help section in bookstores. He’ll make a point of letting you see him holding this book but make no mistake, the fool has never read a word of it. This lowly scavenger’s game isn’t to impress you with how in touch he is with his feminine side, it’s to pick up female scraps the Alpha male leaves behind. So the next time you see this loser lurking about, fix him up with Miss Desperate Housewife up there. It’ll be a match made in “meh.”
1. Chuck Palahniuk – Fight Club
Who the reader wants you to think she is: Smart, Tough, Empowered.
Who she REALLY is: The Damaged Chick.
The Damaged Chick is the most dangerous of all the deluded readers because there are no obvious outward signs to her blinding dysfunction other than her sweaty clasp on an a Chuck Palahniuk novel. Deceptive and disarming, this woman knows her prey and isn’t above playing the “adorable” card in order to get what she wants. Make no mistake boys, what she wants is your head on a plate. Oh, she’ll bat her eyes as you tell her she resembles a Disney Princess and smile sweetly when you describe how her wisp of a frame will fit nicely in your pocket. All the while she’ll be cursing you for not seeing the badass rocker chick she really is. Like a Gremlin, this woman comes with rules. Don’t offer to open the door for her. Don’t lift things because you think they are too heavy. Don’t pat her on the head and placate her ego. But most importantly, whatever you do, NEVER ask her about her blog.
My Secret Admirer – Thirteen
It’s time for this week’s LOVE LETTERS GONE WRONG secret admirer big reveal! This week we did have a winner, and that blogger along with the secret admirer wins a free copy of my ebook. Find out who that winner is by clicking on the trophy to your right.
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.
**********
To my dearest, last night was the most amazing experience of my life, you are the one for me, there is no other.
I write this on my knees praying that you understand……..I had no idea you had a twin sister. But please see my point, as I genuinely thought I was making love to you, not her. The animalistic passion she and I shared between those covers was just sex not the sort of love like we share.
Actually after 5 times it really started to wear off, which is why, when I realized I came straight over. I would have told you straight away but the whole candle lit dinner and silk lingerie followed by sex etc etc etc honestly wasn’t the right time to bring it up. Also having to shoot off to the pub afterwards with the boys meant that I needed to wait for this hangover to clear for you to know that this is genuine.
I also unequivocally promise this will never happen again as I can now easily tell you apart. Although after your breast implant it was more difficult to tell, hers do feel more natural.
Her bikini wax really makes her feel like a young girl, where there is a real maturity that you bring, which also makes it real easy when you are both dressed in a swimsuit. Luckily, even if it’s dark, I can always find your raised birthmark, which is a real positive given your sensitivity around its location and shape, who would have known it’s the only thing that’s not identical with twins.
It is fantastic that you have that great bond with your sister, you get to share so much. Why don’t you ask her about where she goes for her bikini wax, because man I reckon it would really take our lovemaking to the next level.
Anyway, it has been hard writing this, I hope you now see my undeniable love for you.
Gotta go, will pop around after footy.
PS, that lingerie really works for me 
**********
Dear Near-sighted Romeo,
I don’t know how you couldn’t tell my twin Carroll and I apart. I mean, Carroll’s hair is a full quarter shade darker than mine. Not to mention that I have freckles across my nose and cheeks. Carroll’s cheeks are almost bare. If you were any kind of boyfriend you’d have noticed that. I am also an entire centimeter taller which you should have noticed once my high heels were off. I suppose I could forgive you all those little things, but you need to explain to me how you managed to miss the fact that Carroll has a penis….
CLICK THE TROPHY ABOVE FOR THE WINNER AND THE HEART BELOW FOR THIS WEEK’S SECRET ADMIRER:
***
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***
Les Broke My Cherry
That’s right people, I have been deflowered. Les the Great over at Bestbathroombooks gave me my first interview ever for Book One of my THE GODS OF ASPHALT series. Just as you might expect, it was long and hard and filled with tires.
What?
See for yourself by taking a hop over to Bestbathroombooks for his review and my interview. Don’t forget to stop by his own book page where you can pick up a copy of TOILETRY FROM A-Z where a portion of the proceeds go to colon cancer research.
And don’t worry, he’ll be gentle.
Do Not Remove Under Penalty Of Law
Yup, you guessed it, I’ve been tagged. Not once, not twice, but three times. I’ve decided since I do a weekly SPaM post that should exempt me from passing on questions to other bloggers. I would like however, to answer the ones set before me. But first, the rules:
1. You must post the rules.
2. Answer the questions the tagger set for you in their post and then create eleven new questions to ask the people you’ve tagged.
3. Tag eleven people and link to them on your post.
4. Let them know you’ve tagged them!
1. If you were stuck in a burning building with no possible means of escape but had a bag of marshmallows….. Would you toast them over the fire or just eat ‘em straight?
Fuck eating the marshmallows, I’d find a way to masturbate with them. I’m gonna die anyway, right?
2. The funniest knock knock joke you can think of:
Knock, knock.
Who’s there?
Interrupting Cow.
Interrupt-
MOO!!!
3. Weirdest thing you’ve eaten.
Sweetbreads. Look that shit up.
4. Tell me what you’d do if a bird excreted on your head.
Buy a cat.
5. Stupidest thing you did while you were sober.
Hit on someone drunk.
6.Can you run 2 miles if I kick you out of bed at 4am…. to chase me down ….. Theoretically. In reality I won’t make it the first mile.
Chances are the answer is yes, since by 4am I’ve already been up for an hour.
7. How many quarter pounders do you think you can eat in a sitting?
1/4 of 1/4 pounder. You do the math.
8. Bacon or Beer. You must decide!
Coffee!!
9. Can you tell me, an exact use for a rubber duck?
Well that depends…does your rubber duck take batteries?
10. in your dreams….. Are you on top?
ALWAYS. It’s the only time I get to look down at someone.
11. Rosie Huntington-Whitley or Megan fox? You Must Decide!
Jensen Ackles!
The best moment of your life?
The day I held my book proof in my hands.
The worst moment of your life?
The day I realized I mis-spelled the word ASPHALT on my book proof.
If you could go back and change one thing what would it be?
Nothing. I am the product of all my experiences, both good and bad. This means you, HR.
If you could go back and tell someone how you really felt when you didn’t, who would it be?
HR’s father. I hope modeling Gus after him makes up for it.
If there was someone who you could tell how you really felt now who would it be?
Megan – you matter to me more than you know. 
Your greatest achievement?
I recently learned the definition of unconditional love in a round about way from a little old lady I’ve never met.
Someone you wanted to be proud of you who weren’t?
My father.
List the best people in your life right now.
My children and my blogroll.
Your joy in life is…
Writing, plain and simple.
What you wish you could do but cannot?
Shoot a free throw.
If I gave you an airline ticket for anywhere in the world where would you go?
East Yorkshire. I’ve got friends there.
1) Of the five senses – which would you sacrifice to keep the other four?
Smell. I’d save money on bath water too. Win win!
2) What is the first website you check in the morning?
Cracked.com
3) Zombies or Vampires?
Zombies. I was married to a vampire for seventeen years. I’ve had enough.
4) Feed the poor or Eat the rich?
Feed the poor. The rich taste like chicken.
5) Romance Novel or Thriller?
Thriller. Love stinks.
6) Favorite Band?
GODSMACK!!!!!
7) Winter, Spring, Summer or Fall?
Winter…winter…winter…winter….
8) Is there anyone in your past that, looking back, you never would have dated?
The father of my second kid. Yeah, HR. We need to talk….
9) What could you eat over and over.. and over again?
Anything that contains coconut. I add it to everything.
10) Which deadly sin would you most associate yourself with?
Lust. Wait….no, it’s lust. Yeah, lust. definitely lust.
11) Car, motorcycle or something else? If something, else, what?
Love Letters Gone Wrong – Thirteen
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 liked my Fuck Everything And Become A Pirate 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.
*** THE SECRET ADMIRER MAY HAVE WRITTEN A PREVIOUS LETTER ***
To my dearest, last night was the most amazing experience of my life, you are the one for me, there is no other.
I write this on my knees praying that you understand……..I had no idea you had a twin sister. But please see my point, as I genuinely thought I was making love to you, not her. The animalistic passion she and I shared between those covers was just sex not the sort of love like we share.
Actually after 5 times it really started to wear off, which is why, when I realized I came straight over. I would have told you straight away but the whole candle lit dinner and silk lingerie followed by sex etc etc etc honestly wasn’t the right time to bring it up. Also having to shoot off to the pub afterwards with the boys meant that I needed to wait for this hangover to clear for you to know that this is genuine.
I also unequivocally promise this will never happen again as I can now easily tell you apart. Although after your breast implant it was more difficult to tell, hers do feel more natural.
Her bikini wax really makes her feel like a young girl, where there is a real maturity that you bring, which also makes it real easy when you are both dressed in a swimsuit. Luckily, even if it’s dark, I can always find your raised birthmark, which is a real positive given your sensitivity around its location and shape, who would have known it’s the only thing that’s not identical with twins.
It is fantastic that you have that great bond with your sister, you get to share so much. Why don’t you ask her about where she goes for her bikini wax, because man I reckon it would really take our lovemaking to the next level.
Anyway, it has been hard writing this, I hope you now see my undeniable love for you.
Gotta go, will pop around after footy.
PS, that lingerie really works for me
Special Edition SPaM!
*** H.E.Ellis Exclusive Breaking News Special Edition SPaM! ***
(You know it’s special because we’re breaking into our regularly scheduled post to bring you this story. What this means to you is that Things you can’t unsee or Why the 20′s were Ffffing awesome or whatever else it was I was going to post today will probably air at a later date. Hope it isn’t to much of a problem for you but if it is then…..sorry…..I guess. I mean, I really don’t know what else to say. You can always write me a love letter gone wrong if it helps. Thanks.)
H.E.- For years Talker96′s Page of Awesome has been synonymous with quality news reports and a classy style of dress. Recently the editor has come under fire for having his reporters wire tap phone lines, harass potential leads in a story to get the story and force his girlfriend to dress up in a cheerleader costume for a more authentic style of role play. We sat down with Talker96 and his lawyer to see if we could get the truth, or at least a little bit of it. Here now is that interview.
H.E.- Thanks for coming to speak with us today so as to try and clear the air about these recent charges.
Talker96- Anytime H.E.. As always it’s a pleasure to b-
(lawyer leans into Talker96 and whispers something)
Talker96- Thanks.
H.E.- Recently you’ve come under fire from various newspapers who say that you fabricate your stories and manipulate the media in the same sort of style as Hitler leading up to the disastrous “One people. One love.” campaign of 1939. We have to ask, are you a Nazi?
Talker96- Are you asking if I’m a Nazi?
(some whispered talk from lawyer)
Talker96- Okay, first off, I’m a quarter Jewish. So to ask if I’m a Nazi is not only offensive but very irresponsible on the part of your fact checkers. No, I am not a Nazi.
H.E.- You’ve been accused by the New York Times of wire tapping certain celebrities phones so you could get the inside scoop. Any truth to that?
Talker96- Yes.
(lawyer begins to cough and acts like he drops his pen, when he goes to pick it up I can tell he’s whispering something to Talker96)
Talker96- (looking directly into my eyes, I can say in all honesty, Talker96 has the most beautiful blue eyes I’ve ever seen, seriously, it’s like staring into the deepest blue of the ocean) No, there’s no truth to that. I think that all got started when ever Paris Hilton lost her phone a few years ago. You remember that right? Well, we were first on her list of friends on her phone. Those other newspapers are just trying to make us look bad. We do not lie in our reports, plain and simple.
H.E.- What about Lindsey Lohan? Last I looked she was still alive.
Talker96- Shit……Okay, that one was a mistake. We were reporting on an actual event, it just turned out that it wasn’t her. In actuality, the girl in those posts was the girl that played her twin sister in that movie where she had a twin. See, honest mistake. They look incredibly alike, it could have happened to anyone. TMZ made the same mistake.
H.E.- You recently were brave enough to admit that you originally came from Texas, prompting many newspapers to start their headlines with, “Talker96 is from Texas where everything’s Bigger….even the LIES”
Talker96- Yes, real original. How long do you think it took them to come up with that? That headline is like when you club a baby seal, you know it’s wrong but in the end, God-damn if that fur ain’t the softest fur you’ve ever felt. What I’m trying to say is, that headline sucks.
H.E.- I’m going to read a few headlines and I’d like to get some follow up comments and thoughts about them if that’s alright?
(lawyer nods his head)
Talker96- Shoot.
H.E.- Trix Rabbit arrested for performing Tricks with kids.
Talker96- The Rabbit got 10 to 15 for sexual acts with a minor. Last I heard he’s still in prison, which is where he belongs.
H.E.- Man searching for God finds him living in Orlando.
Talker96- I think God moved to Oregon, it’s why they call it Gods Country. I could be wrong though.
H.E.- Parents show support for their two month old gay son.
Talker96- Funny story, it turns out that little Timothy wasn’t gay at all, just bi curious.
H.E.- Gary Busey finds cure for cancer.
Talker96- Gary has been fast at work on cures for both A.I.D.S. and Dutch Elm Disease since that amazing Cancer breakthrough. I heard he’s been quite successful with early testing. Even curing Magic Johnson of the A.I.D.S. virus. I could be mistaken though.
H.E.- So what happens next at Page of Awesome?
(lawyer whispers something)
Talker96- I’m sorry to tell you that I can’t comment on that at this time. Thanks for having me.
(he then swiftly, like the wind almost, walks away. Leaving me and the lawyer, who asks me to lunch)
We’ll tell you more as news breaks.
Laissez Les Bons Temps Rouler!
Long before I became a die-hard New Englander I was a native of the south; specifically Florida. And as anyone who’s either lived in or even just visited the south can attest; no one throws a better party than a southerner (back me up here, Sandy). Because in the south a party isn’t just a party; it’s a balls-out drunken feeding frenzy of Bacchanalian proportion.
So it should come as no surprise that the southern party of the year, Mardi Gras, is celebrated on what is referred to as “Fat Tuesday;” the day before Ash Wednesday or the first day of Lent.
It is a southern tradition on Fat Tuesday to bake a very elaborate dessert called a “King Cake” (recipe in the link). But instead of this complicated treat I am going to pass along my new favorite recipe by fellow blogger Eggton called “Kanye West’s Apple Butter Cake Idea.” This is truly one of the best cakes I’ve ever had and is infinitely easier to make than a King Cake. Pair it with Eggton’s decadent derby girl ice cream or heavenly Almond Joy ice cream and you’ve got a dessert combination worthy of Mardi Gras. I’m getting “Fat” just thinking about it.
Inaugural SPaM
In honor of Presidents’ Day I took a trip to the Black Hills of South Dakota for an interview with Mount Rushmore Presidents Washington, Jefferson, Roosevelt and Lincoln for a feature I’m calling “Inaugural SPaM.” While I hoped to get a glimpse into four of the greatest minds of history, what I actually got was…well, I’ll let you read for yourself.
H.E.: WHAT DO YOU THINK IS THE MOST SIGNIFICANT CHANGE IN POLITICS SINCE THE FOUNDATION OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA?
WASHINGTON: “Well I’d have to say that the principles of–”
JEFFERSON: “Why do you always have to answer first? Maybe one of us wants to say something insightful for a change.”
LINCOLN: “Now, now Thomas. George was merely stating–”
JEFFERSON: “Stuff it, Beardy. No one cares what you think.”
ROOSEVELT: “Whoa, hold your horses there, Jeffy.”
JEFFERSON: “I told you not to call me Jeffy!”
ROOSEVELT: “Alright, alright now just settle down. Go on and let Washington here answer and then you can speak your mind, Jeff-uh…son.”
WASHINGTON: “No, no. I’d like to hear what he has to say. Please Thomas, continue. Enlighten us with your timely opinion.”
JEFFERSON: “Oh you’d like that, wouldn’t you? I bet you’d just loooove for me to say something so you can take all the credit. You thought I didn’t hear what you said to Franklin in the library, did you? Need someone to draft the Declaration of Independence? Sure, give it to Jefferson. He’ll write anything. I’ve yet to see a royalty check on that by the way.”
WASHINGTON: “We’ve been over this. We thought you understood that it was for the greater good.”
JEFFERSON: “The greater good of what?”
LINCOLN: “The good of the country, Thomas.”
JEFFERSON: “Easy for you to say. You and Baldy here get your birthdays’ remembered. What do Teddy and I get? Bupkiss, that’s what.”
WASHINGTON: “Not THAT again.”
ROOSEVELT: “Now, now; he’s got a point, George.”
JEFFERSON: “Damn straight I’ve got a point. Look at that crowd of people down there. They’re here because it’s Presidents’ Day. PRES-I-DENTS’ DAY. MY birthday is in April. Where’s the greater good in that?”
LINCOLN: “When to celebrate Presidents’ Day was not a decision made by George or I. We can hardly be held accountable for-”
JEFFERSON: “Figures you’d side with Washington. I think you secretly love him.”
WASHINGTON: “Now you’re being ridiculous.”
JEFFERSON: “Oh yeah? Then why does he stare at you all the time?”
LINCOLN: “I don’t know what you’re taking about.”
WASHINGTON: “I think you’ve gone off topic, here.”
JEFFERSON: Here’s a topic for you, George old boy. Of the four of us which one participated in the framing of the Constitution? Huh? What’s that? Oh right, it was ME. I find it highly ironic that I helped draft laws affording freedoms to include celebrating holidays and yet no one recognizes my birthday.”
WASHINGTON: “What the hell’s your problem, Jefferson? You don’t hear Roosevelt complaining.”
ROOSEVELT: “Well now, like I said before, ole Jeff here’s got a point. I’d like to see all our days honored, quite frankly. I know I wouldn’t mind seeing a few female citizens admiring us from below in tank tops come April. Am I right, Abe?”
JEFFERSON: “What are you asking HIM for?”
LINCOLN: “What’s THAT supposed to mean?”
JEFFERSON: “Oh I think you know what that means.”
LINCOLN: “I’ll have you know that I was married for–”
JEFFERSON: “Doesn’t matter. I’ve seen your wife.”
LINCOLN: “AND?”
JEFFERSON: “And can you say HAG?”
H.E.: ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT! THAT’S ENOUGH! I’LL SKIP TO MY LAST QUESTION WHICH IS THIS: WHAT DO EACH OF YOU THINK OF THE IDEA OF PRESIDENT OBAMA BEING ADDED TO YOUR SCULPTURE?
IN UNISON: “No comment.”
My Secret Admirer – Twelve
It’s time for this week’s LOVE LETTERS GONE WRONG secret admirer big reveal! This week we did have a winner, and that blogger along with the secret admirer wins a free copy of my ebook. Find out who that winner is by clicking on the trophy to your right.
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 “Has been known to take it from behind,”
It seems like forever since I read any of your posts, besides that first one I read so that I could post something in my comment that showed I actually took an interest in your work. It seems like there’s an entire internet between us and even though I’ve never seen your face I’m sure it’s tastefully… applied. I sometimes imagine you as the bits of worn scrap metal at glass beach just jagged enough to tear, waiting for some idiot to take his shoes off, that idiot was me. I hopped all the way back to my rental car. It sucked. Look, this only kind of relates to my undying and universe exploding slash shattering affection for your incredibly sexy literary prowess in bed, I mean in blog… blog form. Wait, you also wrote a book? What? Anyways, I think we should “hook up” because we could be awesome together and I have an immensely prodigious lexicon, if you know what I mean. I can also use reference sites like thesaurus.com if you find that sort of thing hot, thermogenic even. I don’t know how much more convincing I have to be, I’m pretty sure I nailed it in the first three run on sentences.
So you’ll call me on Friday right? Rhetorical question. The answer is yes, you will. Not only because I’m such a fine candidate but also because I will write you unbelievably romantic love poems (I know you love that shit). This one’s for you baby. When I think of you it hurts only half as much as when you comment on my blog like your words are a hailstorm on my heart and the innuendo is an instant in a silent room and all I want to do is scream so that you might stifle me with a kiss but I know there’s nothing in this that won’t leave me listless and lonely and I know you don’t really know me, but I know me, but I don’t know me like that and it’s that doubt that’s done me in, kept me from calling you at all (I have your phone number, don’t freak out, you’re neighbor Jim gave it to me while I was outside your house, back to the totally bitching poem I’m writing off the top of my head). I’ve left it alone and it’s festering into gargoyle stone suspended from the edges of my shoulders watching intently and ever presently ready to rip my flesh out to remind me why I need this protection. Golem wings can sing goosebump hums across my skin but your hands could settle them if you ever got close enough. End poem.
Sincerely, I’m not telling you my name so you can get a restraining order.
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Dear Anonymous,
Since I don’t know your name I have decided to call you…Rudolpho.
Rudolpho, I am overcome with emotion at the raw intensity of your poem. I too fester with love for you and I think of you most often when I am alone, like when I hide under the stairs in my basement and carve your name into my arm. Please don’t let the names of my past boyfriends worry you, I burned them off with a propane torch before cutting in yours.
Even though I’ve been in love before I know that this is the real thing, as I have never been moved to shave my armpits in anticipation of an epic round of monkey sex with anyone before. Along those lines I feel I should let you know that I was born in the seventies, so I hope you are into the “natural” look.
Based on what was discerned from the outline of the bulge in your Wranglers, my neighbor Jim is convinced that you are hung like a horse. I don’t have to tell you that he was absolutely elated when I offered to share you with him. He wishes to pass along his assurances that he will take good care of you as he rides you like a rented mule.
Bring lube.
CLICK THE TROPHY ABOVE FOR THE WINNER AND THE HEART BELOW FOR THIS WEEK’S SECRET ADMIRER:
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Things You Can’t Unsee – Six
I’m still not completely up to speed, so I give you yet another under-the-weather post.
Love Letters Gone Wrong – Twelve
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 is new to my site . Check out the blogs below 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 “Has been known to take it from behind,”
It seems like forever since I read any of your posts, besides that first one I read so that I could post something in my comment that showed I actually took an interest in your work. It seems like there’s an entire internet between us and even though I’ve never seen your face I’m sure it’s tastefully… applied. I sometimes imagine you as the bits of worn scrap metal at glass beach just jagged enough to tear, waiting for some idiot to take his shoes off, that idiot was me. I hopped all the way back to my rental car. It sucked. Look, this only kind of relates to my undying and universe exploding slash shattering affection for your incredibly sexy literary prowess in bed, I mean in blog… blog form. Wait, you also wrote a book? What? Anyways, I think we should “hook up” because we could be awesome together and I have an immensely prodigious lexicon, if you know what I mean. I can also use reference sites like thesaurus.com if you find that sort of thing hot, thermogenic even. I don’t know how much more convincing I have to be, I’m pretty sure I nailed it in the first three run on sentences.
So you’ll call me on Friday right? Rhetorical question. The answer is yes, you will. Not only because I’m such a fine candidate but also because I will write you unbelievably romantic love poems (I know you love that shit). This one’s for you baby. When I think of you it hurts only half as much as when you comment on my blog like your words are a hailstorm on my heart and the innuendo is an instant in a silent room and all I want to do is scream so that you might stifle me with a kiss but I know there’s nothing in this that won’t leave me listless and lonely and I know you don’t really know me, but I know me, but I don’t know me like that and it’s that doubt that’s done me in, kept me from calling you at all (I have your phone number, don’t freak out, you’re neighbor Jim gave it to me while I was outside your house, back to the totally bitching poem I’m writing off the top of my head). I’ve left it alone and it’s festering into gargoyle stone suspended from the edges of my shoulders watching intently and ever presently ready to rip my flesh out to remind me why I need this protection. Golem wings can sing goosebump hums across my skin but your hands could settle them if you ever got close enough. End poem.
Sincerely, I’m not telling you my name so you can get a restraining order.
Keith Haring
Today is a somewhat sad occasion, as it marks the twenty-second anniversary of the death of my favorite artist, Keith Haring. Younger bloggers may not be familiar with his work, but any Gen X’er worth their salt would recognize his artwork in an instant. As a teen I must have recreated his “Radiant Baby” in fabric paint on every pair of acid washed jeans I owned.
As student of New York City’s prestigious School of Visual Arts; Haring found a home among the alternative art crowd, befriending the likes of Jean-Michel Basquiat and Kenny Scharf. And while his work did eventually earn him success as a pop culture artist, it was his dedication to free public artwork and social consciousness that earned my respect.
One of the things Haring was most known for were his chalk drawings on the unused advertising panels of NYC’s subway system. Often times he’d start a sketch and then leave the chalk behind in the hopes someone would find inspiration and add to the drawing. In this day and age of SOPA, I find his gift of free art inspirational. As a writer who has given away more free books than I’ve sold, I like to think Keith Haring’s life influenced the way I see art. I encourage you to check out his website and see firsthand the legacy Keith Haring left behind.
Paramour
Valentine’s Day marks the release of PARAMOUR – a new art and prose book penned by friend and fellow blogger, Jonathan Borden. I’ve been intrigued by JB’s raw writing style and fearless approach to topics that are at times both heartfelt and gut wrenching for him to share. He is an artist, poet and musician extraordinaire who has only just begun to show the world his rich, creative soul.
Please to enjoy, PARAMOUR.
SOMETIMES THE ONLY WAY TO COME CLEAN IS TO GET FILTHY
Halifax, N.S .— February 5, 2012 — From the backyard of a church, scandalous poet Jonathan Borden invokes the sacrilegious and opens his new book of porn with a prayer. “Paramour” is part memoir, part smut, and part exorcism, so it is fitting that its first page features the Act of Contrition as a self-described disclaimer. A prayer said by Catholics when making Confession, Borden has chosen it to set the pace for his well-crafted “one-handed book”—one-handed, because your hand will be, uh, preoccupied as the other turns the pages. It is a term once used by the Marquis de Sade to describe his own works and one which Borden gleefully prefers to describe his.
“Paramour” is a glossy art book, tightly-crafted and generous in its use of space and colour. Featuring contemporary gay porn images with revealing personal ads, hustlers’ rates, and quotations superimposed on each, there are thick sections of terse, biting prose vignettes in between, detailing Borden’s extensive and debauched sexual history. There are 175 of these micro-stories, one for each of the guys Borden has been with, and each themed with a type of personality he has encountered along the way. To top it off, each vignette weighs in at exactly 69 words—the entendre is to die for. An experimental short film called “Blue Movie”, directed by Stewart Delo, accompanies the daring project and explores the blurred boundary between sense and sensuality.
“It’s about moving on,” says Borden of the edgy release, “I was trying to fill a void in those days and I tried to do that by sleeping my way across town; this project is my way of waking up.” For Borden, “Paramour” is an opportunity to encourage freedom of speech through its testing of boundaries and sexual liberation through its explicit and openly assertive content, while exorcising his own hang-ups. “All of my heroes are sexually-outspoken, so I think I should be, too,” he says, insisting the book and film are not simply shock pieces. “‘Paramour’ is an urban ‘Kama Sutra’, but what I’m teaching is more than just a hot set of positions for pleasure, I’m teaching people to be comfortable. I’m sharing, not bragging.”
Borden, also a freelance graphic artist, took the time to design the finished product, sure to be pleasing to readers’ eyes. His bold, punk aesthetic suits the catharsis of the collection perfectly. Expect to be shocked, appalled, enthralled, and to encounter the ribald. The book is being released electronically in five parts through Borden’s website, WHORRIBLE, premiering on St. Valentine’s Day this year. “Blue Movie” will be released this spring through video-sharing website Vimeo.
“Get filthy.”
It’s….CUPID!!!
As Valentine’s Day approaches I thought it only appropriate to interview the most wanted man, uh…boy in the world. I’m talking about the one, the only….CUPID.
CUPID – Pleasure to be here. Despite this being my busy time of year, I can always find time for you H.E., you helped my blog become what it is today and for that my heart is ever at your service…..You know, if you wanted I could set you up with somebody? I still feel bad about your last relationship. In my defense though, you were the one who fucked that up. Cupid’s arrow is rarely wrong and sometimes you got to give a little to get a little if you know what I mean….
***** So tell the readers, what is the hardest part being the God of Desire?
CUPID – The hardest part? My cock.
* silence *
Nah, I’m just fucking with you. Nothing like a little dirty humor to lighten the mood. Seriously though, the hardest part has got to be humanity. Fifty years ago this would not have been my answer, I mean, fifty years ago people knew how to make a commitment to one another. Now everyone is so needy and expects so much from the person they are with, no one knows how to stay in anything longer than a few years. Its sad really. I blame the hippie generation for this. All that free love fucked up real love for the rest of you. Well, that and women’s lib. Give me the days where I just shot a guy with love and never had to worry about what the woman wanted, because if she didn’t go with the guy I shot then he would just take her. It sounds bad but god-damn it made my job easier.
***** What’s with the bow and arrow?
CUPID – Are you serious? They’re fucking magic, that’s what! It brings forth love and happiness and shit to all that the arrows pierce….Whats with the….Look, if you find a magic shotgun for sale then I’ll buy it, but since there is no such thing, I’ll stick to my bow and arrow thank you very much..
***** How does love in the twenty-first century differ from say, the Renaissance period?
CUPID – Two words, E- Harmony. Them and all those other find love web sites that have popped up since the internet began. Back in the good ole days you didn’t have to fill out a twenty questions exam to get shacked up with somebody, you trusted my arrow to make the right connection. Now though, since these computer cupids have shown up, love is down, STDs are up and the murder rate in Juarez, Mexico has skyrocketed.
That last one has nothing to do with what we are talking about, I just got done reading a book about Juarez and that crap just keeps slipping out, sorry. You get my…..shit….what was my point…….Oh yeah, the Renaissance! It was different.
***** Have you ever missed an intended target?
CUPID – (long pause) On the record, no. Off the record, fuck yeah.
Look, it’s not easy, this job I mean. Its a ton of pressure for one God,you people are so fucking needy, especially you women. From now on, why not just say what it is you’re really looking for in a guy. First off, sense of humor is not that fucking important to you, so stop saying it first. It would make my job and your connection to your true love so much easier to make.That being said, I’ve fucked up here and there throughout time….Do I regret doing it? No, I rack it up to learning experiences…….I do feel bad about Whitney Houston though, I never should have introduced her to Bobby. That was my bad and for that I apologize.
Otherwise, mistakes or no mistakes, once that arrow hits you it’s no longer my problem. Love can happen anywhere, but I can only do so much, it’s up to you to make it work. Here’s an example, that teacher that slept with her student a few years back. You remember, right? She slept with him, got pregnant, got busted, got fired, got jail time, had the baby, got out of jail and then, got back together with him. That’s dedication people. It’s also a tale of love through the toughest of obstacles. What she did was wrong, there’s no doubt about it, I messed that one up, but in the end the love prevailed. All you humans see are the bad things in the people that I hook you up with, somehow you stop seeing the good after being with someone awhile. I never understood this, because the second you break it off, suddenly all you remember are the good qualities, the things that were always there but you would look past. Everyone fights, everyone has issues, it’s up to you to work past them and make it last. Not me.
***** Mythology tells us you inherited this job from your mother, Venus. Tell me, how did it feel growing up with the original MILF as your mom?
CUPID- My mother only talked to me when she wanted something from me. She is a vain, manipulative, alcoholic and I hated growing up with her as a mom. Did you ever see the movie Mommy Dearest? Imagine that but in God form, that’s how my childhood was. I’ve got so many issues because of her I had to cancel my subscription. We haven’t seen each other in years.
***** The identity of your father has never been made public, although Mars has been a popular suspect throughout history. How true are the rumors that you are scheduled to appear on an episode of THE MAURY POVICH SHOW with the intent to confront him with a paternity test?
CUPID- What? Where did you hear that? Of course it’s not true! There’s no need. I found out years ago who my real father was and it certainly wasn’t Mars. No, no, my father lives in Florida, his name is Dale Gibbons and he’s a retired nightclub owner from Miami. Cool guy actually.
***** Was it difficult growing up as an obese child with obvious bladder control problems?
CUPID – All those paintings and sculptures were taken when I was going through a growth stage of my life. Look at me now! Fit, tan and with 12 pack abs. Do I look anything like those pictures? No. I worked hard to get past those looks. Jenny Craig helped of course, but it was mostly me and my dedication to get fit that did it.
And as far as the bladder control goes, I don’t know where that got started. I never wore a diaper, I always went in the nude back then. Censorship is a bitch. Some people can’t handle the male nude form so you got to cover it up, that’s where the diaper comes in.
***** Fill us in on your unfortunate accident where you accidentally shot yourself and fell in love with Psyche?
CUPID – You’re getting these questions from Wikipedia, right? See, that’s why you don’t trust a user controlled reference site, they get it all wrong usually. Okay, you want the real story between me and Psyche? Here goes…
My mom comes to me one day complaining about this chick, saying she’s taking all her worshipers and shit. So mom asks me to go over to this girls place and make her fall in love with the most vile thing I could think of. High as a kite and pissed off because I was in the middle of a game when I was summoned, Saints Row 3 I think, we get all the games before humans do, its one of the perks of being a God, I grabbed my bow and arrows and flew over to her house.
As I’m sneaking into her room I’m trying my best to be extra quiet, but you know how when you’re trying to be quiet every sound is amplified, like, a thousand times? Well that’s what was happening in that room. Every step seemed to cascade through the whole house, and me being high certainly didn’t help.
Finally I get real close to her and start to pull out an arrow, as I’m doing this, her little Min Pin comes running up, yapping the whole way. It scared the shit out of me and I dropped the arrow. I hated that dog. Twinkles was his name. Can you believe that? The dog was totally gay too, he used to try and hump one of the guards dogs, a big German Shepard named KrissKross, it was hilarious.
Anyway, I dropped my arrow and it scraped her foot. Not me like Wikipedia would have you believe, but hers. She wakes up, bing, bang, boom, she sees me, falls in love and hasn’t left me alone since.
In the beginning it was cool. I would sneak over for some late night tail and scurry off again, but after a while it started to get a little stale. I think she saw how I was feeling and figured that the only way to keep me around was to get pregnant. When I found out I was pissed! I totally wasn’t ready to be a dad, I’m still not but it is what it is. In the end we are all responsible for our actions and so I had a kid with her. If you’re looking for morals that’s about as good as it gets. Wrap that shit unless you want a world of shit. Either that or stick to stickin’ the back door, if you get my drift.
***** So, is the God of Desire dating anyone at the moment?
CUPID – Jen Aniston. Six months now. It’s nice I guess.
RETURN MONDAY FOR A PRESIDENT’S DAY SPaM AND MY INTERVIEW WITH A MYSTERY GUEST!!!
Set-Up SPaM
This week’s featured SPaM blogger needs our help, people. Despite the fact that this woman is bright, witty, charming and amazing, she consistently attracts weirdos to date. First there was the IT guy with the man boobs, followed by Mr. “hung like a baby carrot,” the dude with the job complex and the magician with the disappearing act.
I mean, how could you not love a woman who describes herself and her blog like this: “I don’t want to give too much of myself away because some of the things I post are pretty raw (i.e: messed up! LOL) and I am not sure I’m ready for my workmates or friends to know some of this stuff. Funny how it’s OK to let total strangers know tho? Hmm.. Oh well ..)”
In the interest of match-making I’ve decided to include a few questions I found on an online dating site. Help me as I hook-up…LIFEINTHEFARCELANE
**** 1. Do you believe in love at first sight?
I believe in attraction or appeal at first sight but not love. In my experience love takes time..
And alcohol.
And maybe money.
A mansion and a limo doesn’t hurt either.
**** 2. Do you believe a cup is half empty or half full?
You’ve seen my dating disaster posts right?
Go figure the glass is half empty..
Often..
But in all seriousness, I’m a fairly positive person without being too polly-anna-ish. I think basically I’m too lazy to be depressed and negative all the time, cos I am sure it takes a bit of effort.
**** 3. If you could travel back through time, what single mistake would you correct in life?
So I’ve given this one a bit of thought. There are a few things I’ve done that now I look back and go “dear lord woman, what were you thinking?” When clearly the only accurate answer is “I wasn’t.”
But – without wishing to sound overly corny – I’d have to say I would change none.
The way I see it, each mistake / experience adds up to the sum of me. (So who knows how much more messed up I might seem, if we changed just one thing!?)
Besides, I’ve kinda grown used to me over the years – now I just have to find some hapless soul who can also handle it 
**** 4. Is sexual compatibility important to you?
It’s like air. You know how good it is, but perhaps don’t quite appreciate it – til it’s not readily available to you. I guess that’s a yes
From my experience, satisfying sex is one of the key elements to a successful long term relationship.
**** 5. Which was the first crush you ever had?
Er, does that girlish fantasy (ok fantasies, plural .. my bad) about George Michael count .. ?
Look how well that turned out for us both .. !
**** 6. Are you a morning person or a night person?
I can be either but my fave time of day is morning. I like to get out of bed around 4am, make myself very strong coffee and wake up slowly before the world intrudes. There’s something quite soothing about watching the city wake up in front of you. So long as there is coffee on hand, that is!
**** 7. What adjective would a close friend use to describe you?
Ok so in the interests of being thorough, I texted my 2 best friends and asked them.
Clearly, I need new (nicer) friends ..
Any takers?
Fine..
One said “Funny”. The other said “Crazy”.
Like I said, new friends needed .. $#@!
**** 8. If you have friends coming over, what would you cook?
Oh now we’re talking. I love to cook!
Starter: Crusty sour dough bread, charred slightly then rubbed with garlic, topped with seasoned diced tomatoes, scattered with basil leaves and a drizzle (read: slosh!) of extra virgin olive oil.
Main: Beef Wellington. Served with roasted vegetables (potatoes, kumara, squash, baby beetroot, baby carrots, parsnips, red onions) all served drizzled with a gorgeously rich red wine / brown onion gravy. Fussy buggers (aka vegetarians) could have the veges cos I’d do them in oil and I’d make a nut loaf.
Dessert: Simplicity itself – Pavlova with whipped cream and kiwifruit on top.
Afters: Fresh espresso & small shot glasses filled with Drambuie.
**** 9. Describe your perfect holiday.
This is a hard one!
I was going to say “there’s no such thing as a bad holiday” but then I recalled a two week stay at the in-laws some 17 years ago.. *shivers*
If I needed a relaxing holiday, I’d grab a man and head to a child-free beach resort somewhere like the Dominican Republic. Lying in the sun beside the pool with cocktails being regularly served (between naps, shags and buffet meals) heavenly.
Touring holidays are great too tho. Fly into France or Northern Italy to then eat my way thru it, region by region, stopping wherever I want to, when I want to. You’d want to allow 2 months to do justice to this one!
**** 10. If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?
Hmm another hard one.
I love where I live now but could also live in Italy, France, Canada or some parts of the USA happily.
**** 11. What is the one thing about yourself that you would like me to know?
I am pretty sure I have no secrets to anyone who’s read my blog but I’d want you to know if you changed all my answers above so they make me sound like a crazy lady then .. meh.. no need. I did that all by myself, right?
Happy Valentine’s Day everyone!
For more lessons on life and love follow LIFEINTHEFARCELANE
Next week is another Mystery SPaM!
For your own SPaM contact me at heellisgoa@gmail.com
My Secret Admirer – Eleven
It’s time for this week’s LOVE LETTERS GONE WRONG secret admirer big reveal! This week we did have a winner, and that blogger along with the secret admirer wins a free copy of my ebook. Find out who that winner is by clicking on the trophy to your right.
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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To my one true love H.E. Ellis,
I really had to write this letter to you and express my feelings. First off I wanted to say, I have a HUGE crush on you. Yes, I know. You read my blog and know by now that I tend to seduce different women from time to time, and might feel that you’re just going to be my next conquest, but I Promise you are the only woman I have told that I have a Huge Crush on all day! As you also know, I’m all about following my dreams, so once I realized how amazing a woman you really are I couldn’t hesitate any longer. Something about the comment you left me about Rocking my Blogroll sparked something inside me that I tried to resist and ignore at first, but things happened. I couldn’t resist my growing feelings any longer.
Now I don’t want to be a jerk and stroke your ego, and I certainly don’t want you to think of me as anal, so I’ll tell you what happened that made me come all over the idea that you were truly the ideal woman for me. I know this may not make sense when you first read it but if you really think long and hard about this, you can grab hold of the hugeness of the meaning and allow it to slip deep inside your mind and penetrate deeply into your thoughts. I’m sure once you’re done reading this, you’ll come over and over and over and over again to the conclusion that, despite my seductive nature, I’m just a regular guy with a big, giant heart on my sleeve, and that we could find true happiness penetrating deep into our lives. The kind of happiness you can really feel and see growing stronger, if we really could come together in that special way, that only true lovers feel.
Let me explain:
I was having a discussion with my friend’s wife, Kat, the other day. Rod is her husband, and a good buddy of mine, who own’s a little butcher shop on the south side of Chicago called Rod’s Meats. Well, Kat was explaining to me how boring her job as manager of Rod’s Meats had been getting. It had become really routine. All she would do was write the checks, process the orders, do a bunch of paperwork and scheduling. She was also in charge of taking in the meat deliveries when they arrived. Like I said, she told me that her job had become really mundane, until recently, when something amazingly unexpected took place.
Kat told me that a few days ago, they had a much larger than average sausage order get delivered to the store. Usually they can take the meat right in the front door, but this sausage order was way too large. She decided, instead of just trying to jam it all in the front door, that they would try something different. So, Kat decided she wanted to try taking the meat in the back door, and boy was she satisfied that she did!
She said at first it was a little rough, but after a couple of minutes she said she found herself relaxing, and soon the sausage started to slide in a lot smoother. Kat said it felt so amazing and different, taking all that meat in the back door, so much so that she said it brought tears to her eyes a little. All that meat just come flooding through the back door and before you know it they dropped an entire load all over the backside of her shop! Kat told me she loved it so much, she couldn’t wait till the next time she could have someone deliver a really huge sausage order to her backdoor!
And for some strange reason, that got me thinking about you! Call me silly, but it’s like her story awoke something in me and it was then I realized my love for you. I think if you can bend things over in your mind, you might realize how truly real and special this love is. It’s that special kind of love that can really sneak up on you, almost like it’s coming from behind you, where you can create an opening for all of this specialness and allow it to penetrate deep inside your soul.
But we can be even more than just lovers. You have your book and the growing success of your blog to think about and that’s where I can really help you beyond just some random, “back door” passion that most guys will want to offer you. H.E. Ellis, my true love, you are not like other women. You’ve got something…. Something special, and I want it badly. I want to be the man behind the woman! I realize I’m coming all over you here, but it’s been building up inside me for weeks, and I can’t control myself. Let me show you what you’ve got inside of you, what could be inside of you if you’d just give me the tiniest hole of opportunity. Let’s go away together on our own little fantasy vacation. Just give me the word and I’ll book a flight out from Chicago to come see you. We can go back to your place right now and pack your shit!
Please don’t analyze this too much even if this does seem to be coming from behind. Let’s just take this whole thing all in, naturally. I knows it’s a lot to grab hold of, maybe even hard to swallow, but if you can really strip away, and close off to all the things in life holding you back, you might find what we have is a rare and special kind of love, so innocent and pure, that can explode like an erupting volcano if we spread things open to allow it to grow.
Yours truly,
Loverboy Royale (Name changed to protect the innocent)
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Dear Loverboy Royale,
I want you to know that your words have touched me deeply. I’ve come to see that all these years I spent as a vegetatrian have been a total waste of time. You’ve made me realize there is a whole world out there beyond cucumbers and zucchini. I suppose it would also explain why I am protein deficient.
Yes, please hurry in from Chicago. I can’t wait for you to toss my salad!
Love,
H.E.
CLICK THE TROPHY ABOVE FOR THE WINNER AND THE HEART BELOW FOR THIS WEEK’S SECRET ADMIRER:
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Things You Can’t Unsee – Five
My kids have been kind enough to give me the stomach bug that’s been circulating around the house, so I haven’t been awake long enough to write anything of consequence. Until I’m well, please enjoy….CARL?????
Love Letters Gone Wrong – Eleven
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 featured SPaM blogger. 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.
*** THE SECRET ADMIRER MAY HAVE WRITTEN A PREVIOUS LETTER ***
To my one true love H.E. Ellis,
I really had to write this letter to you and express my feelings. First off I wanted to say, I have a HUGE crush on you. Yes, I know. You read my blog and know by now that I tend to seduce different women from time to time, and might feel that you’re just going to be my next conquest, but I Promise you are the only woman I have told that I have a Huge Crush on all day! As you also know, I’m all about following my dreams, so once I realized how amazing a woman you really are I couldn’t hesitate any longer. Something about the comment you left me about Rocking my Blogroll sparked something inside me that I tried to resist and ignore at first, but things happened. I couldn’t resist my growing feelings any longer.
Now I don’t want to be a jerk and stroke your ego, and I certainly don’t want you to think of me as anal, so I’ll tell you what happened that made me come all over the idea that you were truly the ideal woman for me. I know this may not make sense when you first read it but if you really think long and hard about this, you can grab hold of the hugeness of the meaning and allow it to slip deep inside your mind and penetrate deeply into your thoughts. I’m sure once you’re done reading this, you’ll come over and over and over and over again to the conclusion that, despite my seductive nature, I’m just a regular guy with a big, giant heart on my sleeve, and that we could find true happiness penetrating deep into our lives. The kind of happiness you can really feel and see growing stronger, if we really could come together in that special way, that only true lovers feel.
Let me explain:
I was having a discussion with my friend’s wife, Kat, the other day. Rod is her husband, and a good buddy of mine, who own’s a little butcher shop on the south side of Chicago called Rod’s Meats. Well, Kat was explaining to me how boring her job as manager of Rod’s Meats had been getting. It had become really routine. All she would do was write the checks, process the orders, do a bunch of paperwork and scheduling. She was also in charge of taking in the meat deliveries when they arrived. Like I said, she told me that her job had become really mundane, until recently, when something amazingly unexpected took place.
Kat told me that a few days ago, they had a much larger than average sausage order get delivered to the store. Usually they can take the meat right in the front door, but this sausage order was way too large. She decided, instead of just trying to jam it all in the front door, that they would try something different. So, Kat decided she wanted to try taking the meat in the back door, and boy was she satisfied that she did!
She said at first it was a little rough, but after a couple of minutes she said she found herself relaxing, and soon the sausage started to slide in a lot smoother. Kat said it felt so amazing and different, taking all that meat in the back door, so much so that she said it brought tears to her eyes a little. All that meat just come flooding through the back door and before you know it they dropped an entire load all over the backside of her shop! Kat told me she loved it so much, she couldn’t wait till the next time she could have someone deliver a really huge sausage order to her backdoor!
And for some strange reason, that got me thinking about you! Call me silly, but it’s like her story awoke something in me and it was then I realized my love for you. I think if you can bend things over in your mind, you might realize how truly real and special this love is. It’s that special kind of love that can really sneak up on you, almost like it’s coming from behind you, where you can create an opening for all of this specialness and allow it to penetrate deep inside your soul.
But we can be even more than just lovers. You have your book and the growing success of your blog to think about and that’s where I can really help you beyond just some random, “back door” passion that most guys will want to offer you. H.E. Ellis, my true love, you are not like other women. You’ve got something…. Something special, and I want it badly. I want to be the man behind the woman! I realize I’m coming all over you here, but it’s been building up inside me for weeks, and I can’t control myself. Let me show you what you’ve got inside of you, what could be inside of you if you’d just give me the tiniest hole of opportunity. Let’s go away together on our own little fantasy vacation. Just give me the word and I’ll book a flight out from Chicago to come see you. We can go back to your place right now and pack your shit!
Please don’t analyze this too much even if this does seem to be coming from behind. Let’s just take this whole thing all in, naturally. I knows it’s a lot to grab hold of, maybe even hard to swallow, but if you can really strip away, and close off to all the things in life holding you back, you might find what we have is a rare and special kind of love, so innocent and pure, that can explode like an erupting volcano if we spread things open to allow it to grow.
Yours truly,
Loverboy Royale (Name changed to protect the innocent)
Glitter E. Yanus Award!
***** BREAKING NEWS – H.E. ELLIS HAS RECEIVED THE GLITTER E. YANUS AWARD *****
Yes, ladies and gentleman; I have received the Glitter E. Yanus Award. What, do you ask, is the Glitter E. Yanus Award exactly? Why it’s only the most prestigious award given to bloggers with rockin’ ghetto ass or opposable genitalia (I only have one of these. You guess which) and I happen to be one of its honored recipients. Bestowed upon me by Les the Great over at BESTBATHROOMBOOKS; the rules for passing along this award are as follows:
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First: Tell people at least five things you do that would make them want to kill you, or at the very least, make them hate you for the rest of their lives. It’s a good thing there’s only five, because I could be here all day.
1. I SPEAK IN RANDOM ACCENTS IN PUBLIC. What’s great is going to the grocery store and buying milk, bread and eggs all while speaking in a normal accent. Then going back the next day to the same cashier and buying the same three things and asking the same inane questions only this time using a British accent (think Mary Poppins Chimney Sweep). Hi-larious.
2. CONSISTENTLY AND INTENTIONALLY MISPRONOUNCING PEOPLE’S NAMES. If I really don’t like you I’ll change your name all together, such as in:
ME: “Hey Phil.”
RANDOM MAN: “Uh…my name is Bob.”
ME: “Hmm…no. You don’t look like a Bob. I’m going to call you Phil.”
3. REPEATEDLY INSERTING MY S.A.T. SCORE INTO RANDOM CONVERSATIONS. “You want to know where the library is? Why sure. You just turn left up here onto Main Street. You can trust me on this. I got 1430 on my S.A.T.s.”
4. PRETENDING I KNOW SIGN LANGUAGE. I’ll let your mind fill in the blanks on this one.
5. PRETENDING I CANNOT REACH THINGS THAT I OBVIOUSLY CAN, ONLY TO ACT OFFENDED WHEN SOMEONE MENTIONS MY HEIGHT.
ME: *struggling for something at eye-level* “Can you hand me that box of pasta please?”
HELPFUL GROCERY-BOY: *smiling* “You could have totally gotten that. You’re not that short.”
ME: *gasping* “Did you just call me SHORT?? WHERE IS YOUR MANAGER??”
*Helpful grocery-boy flees in fear, leaving a trail of urine behind him*
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The next thing you have to do according to the rules is this: Blindfold yourself and walk out into traffic on the freeway. Since there are virtually no freeways in the state of New Hampshire I chose instead to stand out in the middle of the road and declare that as a whole, Massachusetts residents make better drivers. That’s TWICE as dangerous as a freeway, brotha.
The third thing I am supposed to do is pick out five things that I would stick up my ass if I was forced to. FORCED TO?? What makes you think I don’t already do this for FUN?? On with the list!
1. AN ALLEN WRENCH. How many times have you needed to tighten something and wouldn’t you know it, you needed an Allen wrench to do it. Like a Boy Scout, my ass comes prepared.
2. NINE VOLT BATTERIES. Again, this runs along the same lines as an Allen wrench. Never have one when you need one. Well I do.
3. VANILLA EXTRACT. I don’t use it often enough to award it space in a cabinet, but I need it none the less.
4. DR. PEPPER. There’s a windfall law suit just waiting to happen.
5. LOCKET-SIZED PHOTOS OF MY PROCTOLOGIST. Nothing says, “I love you” to an ass doctor like finding photos of himself during an exam. What can I say? I’m bashful.
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I am also supposed to pick out five bloggers who I feel are worthy of Prom Court. Since I am Prom Queen for a day, I’ve decided to nominate seven lucky ladies as recipients of this award:
MISS LIFEINTHEFARCELANE: Voted most likely to find a Rugby player up her ass.
MISS DARLENE STEADMAN: Voted most likely to find something one would describe as “bitchin” up her ass.
MISS GINGERSNAAP: Voted most likely to find something she lost up her ass.
MISS KAYJAI: Voted most likely to find four things that each begin with the letters F, U, C, and K up her ass.
MISS SANDYLIKEABEACH: Voted most likely to find something both hot and Latin up her ass.
MISS VERYNORMAL: Voted most likely to find something cider flavored up her ass.
MISS SPARKLEBUMPS: Voted most likely to find something sparkly up her ass.
And since every Prom Queen needs a Prom King, I’ve nominated:
HR NIGHTMARE: Dude…I’m not saying a word.
Yeah. I’m old.
Thanks to my well connected friends I caught a LIT show this weekend and it was, well….let’s just call it awesome. What Catholic school girl wouldn’t love a tattooed rocker like A. Jay Popoff? Especially when I got close enough to reach up and wipe the sweat off his…uh, never mind.
As luck would have it a small group of us got to meet the band after the set and get autographs where I actually handed A. Jay an autographed copy of my book. Well, it was more like I signed it and then chucked it at him. You might think that trading autographs with a famous rocker would be the highlight of the evening, but it wasn’t. The highlight came when Kevin asked a small group of us to hang out afterward. That’s when I said….
No.
That’s right, people. I said no. Because the cigarette smoke and burning patchouli to cover the weed and the ringing in my ears from standing too close to the stage threatened to blast my skull in two. Because I made a long trip there and had a long trip home. Because I had work in the morning. Because I had to face the fact that I’m not twenty anymore.
God I’m old.
Things You Can’t Unsee – Four
Come clean, Hotspur. This is actually you, right? Because I can totally see it.
