Good Lord in Heaven I wish I’d come up with this. Click on Jesus to view a list of products.
1. Go to Google.
2. Perform an image search on the word “coughing.”
3. Witness countless people giving the Invisible Man a blowjob.
Nevermind gay marriage or healthcare reform, candidate Ford knows what Americans really want.
VOTE FORD 2012
The date was October 25, 1993. At the time I was watching television, indulging in fistful after fistful of candy corn (yes, I actually like those). I was nearly three months into my first pregnancy so the reality of dressing my swollen belly up for Halloween and partying the night away was out of the question. Well, it was for me anyway.
Enter Mikhail Vlakfeld, my future ex-husband, heading toward the door dressed as- you guessed it, a Vampire. With all the wisdom of an eighteen year old only four months into marriage, he opted to leave me home to go party with his friends.
Relegated to a night of sulking over my Uterine Bastille, I began flipping through channels until I stumbled upon a Vincent Price movie marathon. It was in that moment that I uttered the phrase that would come to haunt me for the next nineteen years:
“My God, isn’t that guy dead yet?”
Seems like a harmless enough phrase, right? Jump to the next morning and me opening the front door to find my future ex-husband passed out face down on the front step, drooling onto a newspaper with a headline that read:
Vincent Price- dead at 82 years old.
That’s right. Apparently at the exact moment I uttered the above phrase, the great Vincent Price keeled over dead. You better believe my family never lets me forget this happened. I wish they would because let me tell you, Vincent Price is NOT the guy you want to kill with the power of an ill-spoken phrase. I expect the afterlife will not be a pleasant place for me.
TODAY IS THE FIRST ANNIVERSARY OF MY BLOG! TO COMMEMORATE THIS AUSPICIOUS OCCASION I HAVE DECIDED TO RERUN MY VERY FIRST BLOG POST.
PLEASE TO ENJOY…
So yeah, I wrote a book.
I must have been high when I wrote it because there’s no other explanation I can give for my 120,000 word upper YA novel where the only noun I used more than “boner” was “blood.” It goes without saying that I’m self-published. I didn’t even try to submit it traditionally. Can you just imagine the poor agent who gets my query letter?
“My novel, THE GODS OF ASPHALT is complete at 120,000 words and is the first in a series of five books that for some reason I’ve decided to write out-of-order. Each one is told from the point of view of a teenage male protagonist who has exactly zero supernatural powers (unless you consider perpetual erections a superpower). Oh, and it also has Spanish subtitles.”
On the good side, if you’re like me and are just a little too into music, motorcycles and all around badassery this is the book for you. If you’re not, I’m sure Jodi Picoult’s got a blog somewhere. You can find the opening to chapter one at the top of the page under the tab GOA REVIEWS and you can find my book on line at:
You know you are suffering from writer’s block when you opt to spend twenty minutes sending and resending the same email to yourself over and over just to see how fucked up you can get the email ads to appear on your screen. I forced myself to stop at ten replies. So if my Super Secret Project sucks, you all know that I have Gmail to blame. Too damn distracting.
Due to my working nearly non-stop over the past month I have decided to take this weekend off completely, so Love Letters Gone Wrong and SPaM will resume next week. Instead of blogging I’m just going to kick back, relax, and dance like a maniac in a hotel lobby with Chris Walken.
Because this week so far has felt like an ass full of pipe wrench.
I’m still not completely up to speed, so I give you yet another under-the-weather post.
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?????
Come clean, Hotspur. This is actually you, right? Because I can totally see it.
I will never forget the day that I walked into the house to the sound of teenage boys roaring with laughter. Barely able to breathe, Junior explained that he’d found a video of a kid throwing a tantrum because his mother cancelled his World of Warcraft membership. The following ensued…
LOOK AT HIS SHIRT!!!!
Hey…did anyone remember today is Monday? Because I COMPLETELY forgot. I blame the time change. And Canada. So instead of a helping of SPaM, I’ve decided to include something a little LESS palatable. Because if I have to know about this, then so do you. Thanks, Urethra.