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Posts tagged “Quotes

The Idiot’s Christmas Poem

Hold onto your eggnog people because I’m about to deliver some Christmas cheer in the form of a poem penned by none other than THE IDIOT SPEAKETH. Grab some cookies and settle in by the fire as you read this soon to be holiday classic…..The Idiots Christmas Poem!


SciFi Face-Off!

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Today I have decided to pay homage to the late, great Gene Roddenberry on what would have been his 92nd birthday by conducting an interview I believe he might have enjoyed. Now I ask you, what better way to pay tribute to one of the greatest contributors to the SciFi genre than to have a face-off of Starship Captains? Ladies and gentlemen I give you…

JAMES T. KIRK    VS    JEAN-LUC PICARD

Q: Which species makes a better First Officer, Human or Vulcan?

KIRK: A Vulcan makes the better officer because they use logic rather than emotion to guide their decisions.

PICARD: Generally speaking, Kirk’s right. On the other hand, I cannot speak highly enough of my very human first officer. Once he finally was able to remove that giant stick from his ass and relax a little bit, he turned out all right.

Q: What is the most important quality a Starship Captain must have?

KIRK: The most important quality a starship captain must have is the ability to love females of any species.

PICARD: Diplomacy, which basically is the art of telling someone to suck your cock with such tact and charm that they actually apply lipstick first regardless of gender or race, they sell tickets beforehand, and thank you when it’s over.

Q: The better date: Green Orion Slave woman, or hot human?

KIRK: Green Orion Slave women are the best! Man, there is nothing those girls will not do! Did you know that Green Orion Women have two vaginas? Little known fact!

PICARD: So, you fail twice? By the way, they have an ointment for that rash you’ve been complaining about. As for who makes the better date….have you *BEEN* to Risa? Jamaharon to the Bone, yo.

Q: The worst thing about dealing with Starfleet Command is ___ ?

KIRK: Starfleet Command are a bunch of pussies. If they let us annihilate the Klingons like we wanted to, the Romulans would think twice before attacking us again.

PICARD: I don’t know that I’d have phrased it quite that way, but I’m forced to agree with the good captain. Oh, fuck it: Starfleet Command is run by a bunch of spineless twat-waffles who can’t find their balls with both hands and a tricorder.

Q: Which is the better ride: The classic NCC-1701 or the NCC-1701D?

KIRK: The NCC-1701 of course! The 1701D is for pansies! Scotty would never be caught dead in the engine room of that bomb!

PICARD: The Constitution-class starships are beautiful vessels from a bygone era that I for one believe to be full of adventure, wonder, and excitement. To have been alive in those days, exploring the vast, unknown frontier? I envy those like James Kirk and the ships they commanded. That said, have you *seen* my fucking ship? It’s got phasers and photon torpedoes out the ass! It comes apart so it can kick your ass *twice* as much. And it’s huge! Don’t believe your girlfriend, Kirk, even if she is Orion: Size does matter.

Q: Marooned on a deserted planet, the three things I have to have are?

KIRK: A Green Orion Slave woman, Yeoman Janice Rand, and Cloud Dweller Droxine. Need  I say more?

PICARD: A whole planet to myself? Wonderful! I’m overdue for a good vacation. I’ll take my Collected Shakespeare book, my tea, and my flute. On second thought…I’d like to meet this Droxine. And change my book selection to the Kama Sutra.

Q: I’d rather take on in a bar fight: a Cardassian or a Romulan?

KIRK: As easy as it is to beat the crap out of a Cardassian, I would much rather fight a Romulan. Romulans put up a much better fight. Can’t trust those Cardassians, they fight dirty as hell.

PICARD: He’s right about the Cardassians. Sneaky bastards, every single one of them. Romulans can fight well enough, but they’re always so worried about mussing their hair. Now, if you want a real fight, try taking on a Nausicaan. I’ve never lived that one down. And don’t even get me started on the Borg. *THOSE* guys were assholes.

Q: Which is more technically challenging, slingshotting a starship backward in time or dislocating it to an alternate universe?

KIRK: Neither actually. You want technically challenging? Try listening to Spock and Bones for five consecutive years, now that is a challenge!

PICARD: I must side with my esteemed colleague on this matter. Time travel or having your ship flung to the far side of the universe is nothing compared to having to deal with a snotty teenager who thinks he knows everything, and whom you can’t toss out the nearest airlock because you’re trying to get in his mother’s pants. Awkward.

Q: Which is more irritating, tribbles or Ferengi?

KIRK: The Ferengi  are okay, they remind me  of my Uncle Wilbur. Tribbles can really annoy you, and they multipy faster than Romulian rabbits. God  I hate those furry little creatures! Do you know that they ate five years worth of grain? Try exploring the universe without your daily fiber! I was constipated for three years. Damn Tribbles!

PICARD: Can I reuse my snotty teenager answer here?

Q: You’re approached by Q, who is feeling generous and unmalicious – what gift of ability do you ask him for?

KIRK: Ah Q. I heard John Luc complain of the guy. A gift? well for John Luc, he can give him the Shatner 2000, the most futuristic hairpiece in the universe. Oh, and ability. I was sidetracked with the Green Orion Slave woman…she was a barrel of fun. I guess if I met this Q guy I would ask for the ability to give those Green Orion Slave women  an orgasm. Did I mention that they had two vaginas? Try giving one of those women an orgasm. They don’t need one orgasm, they need two, one for each vagina.

PICARD: I require no hairpiece, young man. I’m quite comfortable with my appearance. Besides, chicks dig the smoothness. As for a gift, if I was forced to limit myself to just one thing, it would be the ability to go back and correct certain mistakes I’ve made during the course of my life. Barring that, I’d settle for just being able to go back and hide the evidence and bury the goddamned bodies. Oh, and I’d ask Q to give Kirk that ointment for his rash, which seems to be flaring up just now.

By the way, Kirk…get with me after the show. I can teach you what you need to know about those Orion women. Two words: “Vulcan Shocker.”

Thank you Sightsnbytes (Kirk) and Dayton Ward (Picard) for contributing to our Intergalactic Battle Royale!

CLICK ON ALL THE PICS OF THE STARSHIP ENTERPRISE FOR AN ADDED BONUS FEATURE


Iconic Interviews – The Book!

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iicoverartebookFor those of you who just can’t get enough of the holiday spirit, consider purchasing the Bloggers’ Compilation Project offering: ICONIC INTERVIEWS.

The world’s most beloved holiday icons presented in a collection of irreverent interviews that take on the backstory of their imagined existences.

Some of the best bloggers from around the ‘Sphere are interviewed as iconic holiday characters, each one zanier than the next. Click on the bloggers below for more good stuff!

Iconic Interviews can be purchased here:

AVAILABLE IN EBOOK FORMAT THROUGH SMASHWORDS

AVAILABLE IN EBOOK FORMAT THROUGH AMAZON

AVAILABLE IN PAPERBACK THROUGH AMAZON

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I’D LIKE TO THANK THE FOLLOWING BLOGGERS FOR THEIR GENEROUS CONTRIBUTION:

It’s Groundhog Day!

Joseph Wakefield as the Groundhog

It’s Cupid!

Talker96 as Cupid

Inaugural Spam

Joseph Wakefield as President Roosevelt

Michael Wakefield as President Jefferson

H.R. Nightmare as President Washington

H.E. Ellis as President Lincoln

Interview with the King of the Leprechauns

Michael Wakefield as Fergus O’Malley

I Prank You Not

H.R. Nightmare as Loki the Trickster

It’s the Easter Bunn- er, Wallaby?

Megan Stephenson as the Easter Wallaby

Earth Day Interview with Gaia

Sandylikeabeach as Gaia

It’s Flagulous!

Sparklebumps as Betsy Ross

It’s Time For Father Time!

Trask Avenue as Father Time

SciFi Face Off!

Sightsnbytes as Captain James T. Kirk

Dayton Ward as Captain Jean Luc Picard

Andiamo Columbus!

Viva Italia as Christopher Columbus

Interview With The Werewolf

S. Quinn Shaw as the Werewolf

Turkey Incognito

Edward Hotspur as Tom Turkey

Interview with Frosty the Snowman

Archon’s Den as Frosty the Snowman

Interview with LeMonjello Otis

TrailerTrashDeluxe as LeMonjello Otis

Interview with Brown Shugga

KayJai as Brown Shugga

Interview with Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer

PouringMyArtOut as Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer

Santa’s Shame Spiral Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

BrainRants as Santa Claus, Mrs. Claus and Lipschitz the Elf

Want to be a part of the next Bloggers’ Compilation Project?

Check out F*CKED UP FAIRY TALES and leave your choice in the comments. All profits from the sale of Iconic Interviews and FUFT are donated to charity.


Close Encounter – Neil Gaiman

2013-07-15 20.38.53

2013-07-15 20.38.53I’ll admit that it’s been a while since I’ve visited blogworld, but this time I have a good reason:

I met Neil Gaiman.

That’s right; I met honest to goodness Neil Gaiman at a book signing for his latest creation:

THE OCEAN AT THE END OF THE LANE

I, along with about 100 other lucky individuals, sat enraptured for two hours listening to him speak about his new book and his old books and what it means to be a writer. I gladly waited another three hours in line just to have him sign my copy of American Gods- three hours I spent rehearsing what it was I would say to him when I finally, after twenty years of fandom so intense it is almost embarrassing, had the chance. Here’s how it went:

NEIL: [reading the post-it with my name on it stuck to my book] “So you are H.E. Ellis, then?”

ME: “Yes.”

[Neil begins to sign book. Silence ensues]

NEIL: “It is wonderful to see people using initials again.”

ME: “Yes.”

[Neil hands me my book]

NEIL: “There you are.”

ME: “Thank you.”

[I turn and walk away]

I am sure there was drool involved, not to mention I’d been sweating inside a church for five hours and probably smelled like Texas roadkill.

Even if he were offended, I am sure he would never say. Neil Gaiman is without a doubt the most soft-spoken and humble celebrity I have ever encountered. This man makes himself available to those who come out to see him (those who don’t become catatonic at the sight of him anyway) and never behaves like the diva he has earned the right to be. I harbor no delusions that my writing will ever receive the acclaim his has, but I will tell you with certainty that I will do my best to, “Make good art,” simply because I was blessed with the opportunity to receive his advice.

Return tomorrow for a blog post about what I did the NEXT day. Until then, MAKE GOOD ART.


It’s Time For Father Time

Father’s Day is upon us and with it an interview from the ultimate patriarch, Father Time.

*Good Afternoon, uh…is there such a thing as a time reference like “afternoon” in your reality?

Why wouldn’t there be? I’m just like you, missy. Minus the white beard. But don’t worry. It’s nothing a little electrolysis can’t help you with. (Bursts out laughing and slaps his knee). Man, I slay me! See what I did there?

*Yes.

I took the white beard reference and applied it to you! Since this is a print interview, people will think you have a white beard! Haha!

*Yes, I got it. Hilarious.

I know, right? I missed my calling, but relatively speaking stand-up comedy is a new thing. What would I have done before what you people call the 20th century? Wear a jester’s hat? No way. I have my pride. Plus, have you ever seen a comedian with such impressive biceps?

*So…

What? You want me to flex?

*No, thanks. Do time references like “afternoon” exist in your reality?

Oh, that. No offense, sweetie, but that’s dumb question. I mean I’m sitting here with you, aren’t I? In the afternoon. I would think the answer is obvious.

*It’s not afternoon everywhere.

Hey, don’t get all smart-ass and technical. Although I am everywhere I can’t be everywhere. I have to be somewhere, even if I am everywhere. So wherever I am, which doesn’t mean everywhere, is where I am. And when I am there, like I am here, I follow the clock like everyone else. By the way, do you know why clocks die?

*Why?

Because their time is up! Haha! Get it? You see when people die other people say their time was up. So when you apply that to clocks it takes on a whole new double meaning!

*That begs for your thoughts on how we measure time.

You mean how I taught you to measure time. The truth is you people need structure and organization. Have you looked in your closets? So I gave it to you. However, to be fair, precision rocks my world. Without some sort of time structure your life would be chaotic, but mine would be completely different. I wouldn’t be a celebrity, for one. I’d only be that guy with the amazing bod and killer sense of humor. No one would call me Father Time which would be tragic since my given name is Vivien. Hey, wanna see my pecs?

*Since you’ve been around forever you must have witnessed some amazing moments in history. Can you tell us which event was your favorite?

Been around forever? Is that some sort of age crack?

*Of course not. All I’m saying is you are a man of experience.

That’s true. I am. I get a little sensitive when people start talking about age because it is saddled with all these pre-conceived notions. So what if I have a few trillion miles under my belt? I’m still sharper than a Ginsu knife. Not only that, I have quads to die for.

*I’m sure you do. Now back to your favorite moment in history. When was it?

Right now, baby. (winks)

*Which event did history get wrong?

It would be easier to answer which event history got right.

*Okay, which event did history get right?

What? Do I look like some sort of history expert? (Doubles over in laughter.) Sucker! You fell right into that one! Am I killing it or what? Dane Cook couldn’t touch me on his best day! Haha!

*Is there a special lady friend in your life?

Look at me. What do you think? This magic doesn’t just happen. It takes hard work and let me tell you, the ladies appreciate it. One peek at my lats will convince you.

*I’m flattered, but let’s keep this professional.

Oh I’ll keep it professional alright, sugar.

*I have no idea what that means. Do you have any inside information on the Mayans and their world-end predictions?

They were a fun-loving group, the Mayans. Did a bit too much peyote, which is never a good thing. I’ll tell you this much though. Even when the world ends, time will continue. Which means – cha-ching! – I have nothing to worry about.

*What is the one thing most people get wrong about you?

That I’m a “father”. I’m not. I challenge anyone to produce a paternity test that says otherwise. And if they do show me a test it better be multiple choice. Haha!

 

This bit of Father’s Day diversion brought to you by the mad genius of John at Trask Avenue. For more holiday fun read Iconic Interviews- some of the best bloggers around the ‘sphere coming together for a good cause and a lot of laughs. Pick up a copy today.


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.”


HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!

hebday

Yes, you are correct, it is my birthday. I know this to be true because I follow Edward Hotspur’s blog and El Guapo’s blog and Ginger’s blog and Sandy’s blog (as well as kind email wishes from Trask Avenue, LeClown, and many a sweet comment from my good friends John E. and PMAO). All better blogs than mine, because quite honestly I completely forgot it was my birthday until I read them. Wait…more to the truth I forgot again that it was my birthday since my kick-arse British friend Megan wished me a Happy Birthday the night before (suck it, HR and Elias. She beat you to it).

It’s been through these good people that I’ve made even more friends today, and perhaps have even sold a book or two. That being said, I am not sure mere words can describe what all your birthday wishes mean to me. Without knowing me personally, you may not understand what a Dickensian upbringing I had, and how kind words and well wishes I never received as a child mean the world to me now. You have all become my family, and I am grateful for each and every one of you. Thank you for sharing my day.

hebday


Iconic Interviews – The Book!

iicoverartebook

iicoverartebookFor those of you who just can’t get enough of the holiday spirit, consider purchasing the collaborative blogger eBook:

ICONIC INTERVIEWS - The world’s most beloved holiday icons presented in a collection of irreverent interviews that take on the backstory of their imagined existences.

Your favorite bloggers are interviewed as iconic holiday characters, each one zanier than the next. All proceeds from the purchase of this book are donated to the bloggers collective project known as Wrists Around The World. For a free copy of this eBook as well as additional works from H.E. Ellis visit: www.wristsaroundtheworld.com

AVAILABLE IN EBOOK FORMAT THROUGH SMASHWORDS

AVAILABLE IN EBOOK FORMAT THROUGH AMAZON

AVAILABLE IN PAPERBACK THROUGH AMAZON

tbar

I’D LIKE TO THANK THE FOLLOWING BLOGGERS FOR THEIR GENEROUS CONTRIBUTION:

It’s Groundhog Day!

Joseph Wakefield as the Groundhog

It’s Cupid!

Talker96 as Cupid

Inaugural Spam

Joseph Wakefield as President Roosevelt

Michael Wakefield as President Jefferson

H.R. Nightmare as President Washington

H.E. Ellis as President Lincoln

Interview with the King of the Leprechauns

Michael Wakefield as Fergus O’Malley

I Prank You Not

H.R. Nightmare as Loki the Trickster

It’s the Easter Bunn- er, Wallaby?

Megan Stephenson as the Easter Wallaby

Earth Day Interview with Gaia

Sandylikeabeach as Gaia

It’s Flagulous!

Sparklebumps as Betsy Ross

It’s Time For Father Time!

Trask Avenue as Father Time

SciFi Face Off!

Sightsnbytes as Captain James T. Kirk

Dayton Ward as Captain Jean Luc Picard

Andiamo Columbus!

Viva Italia as Christopher Columbus

Interview With The Werewolf

S. Quinn Shaw as the Werewolf

Turkey Incognito

Edward Hotspur as Tom Turkey

Interview with Frosty the Snowman

Archon’s Den as Frosty the Snowman

Interview with LeMonjello Otis

TrailerTrashDeluxe as LeMonjello Otis

Interview with Brown Shugga

KayJai as Brown Shugga

Interview with Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer

PouringMyArtOut as Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer

Santa’s Shame Spiral Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

BrainRants as Santa Claus, Mrs. Claus and Lipschitz the Elf

THANK YOU ALL AND MERRY CHRISTMAS!


First Amendment Battle Royale

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My son Junior considers himself a burgeoning Political Science expert (read: Insufferable teenage know-it-all), so when I came across this brand new Editorial Policy on the contact page of the Krill Press website I immediately asked him for his opinion:

EDITORIAL POLICY: Krill Press does not support liberalism and the liberal progressive agenda prevalent at this time in America, and is not interested in receiving submissions from authors whose personal ideology runs along these lines. All new, submitting authors will be vetted for Conservative values, and publishing contracts will be awarded, rejected, or recalled based on the results of this vetting at any time during the pre-publishing or post-publishing process. Our first requirement for acquisitions is, and always will be, excellent writing, and we do not in any way screen or censor the content of submissions based on apparent liberal content. In other words, you can write the most liberal-themed novel in the world, and as long as it is excellent writing, and you have satisifed us through the vetting process that you are a Conservative person, your submission stands a very good chance of being considered by us. Only you know if this policy applies to you or not, so please consider this seriously before making a decision on submiting your work to Krill Press.

My take on this policy is that it borders on, if not downright defies, the First Amendment right to free speech. Junior, however, disagrees.

He states that as long as Krill Press is a for-profit enterprise that doesn’t receive monies from the government they can choose to publish or not publish anything or anyone they want to, and that the First Amendment protects their ability to do so. I didn’t see how that was plausible, so he took the time to look up and then cite the following:

The First Amendment does NOT protect the right to make or distribute obscene material. – Roth v. United States, 354 U.S. 476 (1957).

Junior believes this is the piece of our Constitution that justifies Krill Press’ editorial policy. He states that if Krill Press believes liberal content to be obscene, then they have the right to deny its publication.

He and I went round for round with this one, and in the end we agreed to disagree. His last statement to me was, “Just because you don’t like it, doesn’t make it wrong. There are some things that can’t be done and some things that shouldn’t.” Nothing like having your own words hurled back at you by your fifteen year-old kid.

At the end of it all I suppose I see his point, but there is something very distasteful in what I am reading above and I can’t put my finger on it. If anyone out there has any ideas, I’d love to hear them.

For the whole sordid story visit Krill Press. By the way, the misspelled words above were taken from the site exactly as is. I left them to prove a point.


Fifty Shades of White??

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People, I am disillusioned. No, I am more than that- I am traumatized. Because my innocent little British Sweetie Pie just wrote the raunchiest retelling of Snow White and the Seven Dwarves that I’ve ever read. Hang on to your caps chaps, because I bring you Snow White and the Seven Strippers??

by Megan Stephenson

“I am leaving tonight!” thought Snow as she packed her bags cautiously. All her step mother cared about was her father’s money and she got it when he passed away. Snow knew the woman was jealous but banning her from going to university, this was a whole new low! Any boy Snow brought home her step mother convinced her they didn’t like her and Snow had never had a proper relationship. Leaving was the only way she could live her life how she wanted.

As Snow stormed past the beautiful ruby Red Mercedes Mclaren SLR her father had bought her for her seventeenth birthday, she backtracked for a moment. It was hard to leave when you had everything but she couldn’t stay for luxuries. Snow tapped the car and forced herself to leave. Marching down the street Snow bumped into a street advertiser who offered her a leaflet. It read ‘New VIP Bar Opening Tonight, All Drinks £1” she thought for a moment. Her step-mother had never let her go clubbing. Snow was going to do it; she was going to get smashed!!

Snow walked up to the new bar and walked through the doors; she stormed straight to the bar and asked the bartender for a double vodka and cola because that is what her step-mother ordered when she wanted to get drunk. She took the drink and gulped it down in one. She smiled; she had never felt this free before.

A friend from University was sitting across the bar, Snow couldn’t remember her name but she ordered another drink, downed it and walked over to her friend “WANT TO DANCE,” she shouted but the girl couldn’t hear her, then Snow remembered her name was Zoe, Snow walked closer to her and said “Zoe, do you wanna dance?” Zoe smiled and said “Yes actually, I have been stood up and could do with a friend,” Snow led her to the dance floor and they started dancing. They were shortly joined by a very good looking man who passed them a leaflet “I would love you girls to join us later,” he said before winking and walked over to another crowd of girls. The man had jet black hair and beautiful blue eyes; he had stubble on his face and walked around the club with a cheeky smile. The leaflet said “TIME OF YOUR LIFE, a club with a difference,” Zoe looked at Snow and pointed at the opening times “It doesn’t open till eleven,” Snow looked at her diamond incrusted watch and it was only nine but she was determined to have a good time “Let’s get plenty to drink before then,” she said pulling Zoe back towards the bar. At 11:30, Snow and Zoe stumbled to ‘time of your life’. Snow looked at the man at the booth at the door and said “How much do you want?” the man laughed and said “The shows has already started but if you still wanna go in its £15 each,” Snow passed the man £100 and said “Keep the change,” Zoe giggle as they walked into the club barely holding each other up. They were both shocked when they walked into a revamped theatre; they took a seat at the back near the bar and waited for the next part of the show to start.

A tall, gorgeous lady walked onto the stage and said “I hope you ladies enjoyed the first act but now onto the second, you all know this guy, give it up for Friendly!!” The women around them screamed in anticipation. A woman next to Snow had a huge stack of five pound notes on the table in front of her so Snow presumed she knew what was going on. Suddenly a beautiful man’s voice sang “You know I know how, to make them stop and share as I zone out,” he slowly danced onto the stage in a suit and took his jacket off “The club can’t even handle me right now,” as he stopped singing the women went wild. Snow had never seen anything like this but she was captured by what she was seeing.

“Watch you, watching me I go all out,” he sang as he sat on the edge of the stage and the women closest to him stroked his muscly chest and abs. “The club can’t even handle me right now,” he finished singing and the music started. He started dancing but really dancing, he was amazing. His shagging blond hair was dancing with him and his muscle rippled as he delivered every move with passion and precision. He slid across the stage and jumped onto a girls lap, he was dancing on her and she was gridding on him. He jumped onto the table and ripped his pants off. Snows jaw dropped as he used his hat to cover his dignity. As he left the stage the women came back on and said “Did everyone enjoy that?” Snow was too shocked too scream and she needed another drink. As she sat back in her seat, the most beautiful man she had ever seen stepped onto the stage in a camouflage trousers and a white vest top. The white vest top didn’t leave much to the imagination as all of his muscles protruded through the material. He man danced down the ales of the theatre, pulling girls to their feet and dancing with them. Snow bit her lip as he dance towards her, he was her perfection. He had dark hair and dark eyes. As he danced back towards the stage, women sighed and pleaded for him to dance with them.

Seven acts and nine shot later, Snow was on cloud nine. As the club emptied Snow found a nice comfortable bit of concrete and fell asleep.

“We should really wake her up,” said Flirty as he stared at the beautiful girl asleep on the road. Frisky nodded at him and kicked her. Flirty shot him an angry look but Frisky simply shrugged back. The girl looked around and realised she was asleep on the road outside a strip club. Her hair was stuck up in the air and her clothes were on backwards (Meaning at some point last night she must have taken them off). Flirty looked her up and down, he didn’t know what to say. “Are you alright?” Frisky said as the girl squinted at them both. She looked at him but the only thing she could remember from the night before was running away from home. She was confused but asked “Do you have a place for me to stay?” Flirty and Frisky were taken back, Frisky shook his head “Erm no, no girls allowed,” but Flirty had a different idea. “How long do you want to stay?” Flirty said before Frisky could stop him. The girl fluttered her eyelashes and said “Only till I can find myself a place,” Flirty smiled and added “What is your name?” the girl blushed “Snow White,” she whispered in embarrassment, Flirty smiled “I am Flirty and this is Frisky,” The girl looked at the both before nodding. Frisky pointed down the street and said “Come on then.”

Snow slowly realised she was going home with too strapping young men. She started staring at them and taking in their feathers. Flirty was tall, dark and handsome but Frisky had long brown hair and rough stubble on his face. When they arrived at the block of flats, Snow asked “Which one is yours?” the men turned around and smiled, Frisky answered “All of them, all seven flats,”

“For all seven men,” Flirty added with a big grin on his face. Snow suddenly felt warn inside, seven absolutely gorgeous men in one building, she was glad she ran away from home.

Snow placed the one bag she had with her on the table and sat on the sofa. The flats looked awful from the outside, dull and run down but on the inside they were luxurious. Snow wondered why the men lived here and how they got the money for such expensive things but she didn’t want to be rude and ask. Flirty walked in the room with another man with Blond hair and striking green eyes, he was very muscly and very attractive. He walked over to Snow and said “I am Friendly, please to meet you,” Snow just nodded but she had a feeling she had seen him before. He blushed and sat on the other sofa, Flirty looked at Snow and said “You will have to come to work with us, Fancy doesn’t want you here alone but I think I have a job you can do,” He winked which also seemed familiar to Snow. Flirty got his car keys and encourage the others to show Snow to the car. Snow was in the car with Flirty, Frisky and Friendly but she was told that Funny, Fancy, Funky and Fizzy were in the other car.

When they reached the place they had called work, Snow noticed it was a dance studio. They walked into a huge studio and Snow sighed at her reflection straight away. Her usually neat hair was all over the pace, she combed it with her fingers back into a Black bob it usually was and felt instantly better. As soon as Friendly started dancing, Snows memories from the night before came flooding back “OMG YOU’RE MALE STRIPPERS!” she screamed as the seven men stared at her. The men just laughed “I am guessing you can now remember last night then,” Funny said as he finished laughing “No,” Snow answered and she was mortified. Flirty looked at her and said “You stayed after the show and was drinking with us, you were telling us what you would do to us behind closed doors, and you were being pretty…”

“Erotic,” added Frisky as Flirty struggle to finish his sentence. Snow was shocked; she was not usually like this at all. Flirty looked at her “Our front lady quit last night, I though you could fill in for her,” he whispered as reality suddenly dawned over Snow and she turned to leave. Fancy, one of the wiser of the young men then stepped up and said “Look Snow, you came here looking for something else, you ran away from home and you have nothing to go back too, it’s do or die for you so why don’t you just give it a shot?” Fancy’s word rung in Snows ears. Snow had gone from being a pampered princess to being a widow’s slave, a life which she only ran away from last night and was willing to go back already. She needed to prove to herself that she didn’t need that life, that she could earn money for herself, she turned around and nodded at fancy

“Yes, you’re right,” she said and the men smiled “Welcome to the team,” Fancy stated before handing her over to Funky who was going to teach her the ropes. Funky had short curly ginger hair and lovely blue eyes, he seemed to be shy compared to the other but the man could dance, all the men could dance!

The first thing Funky did was pull out a costume, it was a sexy ringmistress costume and it was lovely. The jacket was blue, the waistcoat was yellow, and it had a white shirt, it also came with black skin tight shorts. When snow tried it on and she felt absolutely amazing.  Flirty wolf whistled from the back of the studio as Snow studied herself in the mirror. Funky then went through how the night flows. Funky sat down next to Snow as she watched the men rehears “We open Thursday, Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays, 11:00 till 2 but the show is only 11:15 till 12:45, Ten minutes per set, opening, all seven of our acts and a closing set, go it,” Funky said and Snow nodded, Funky watched as Snow seemed mesmerised by the dancing the men were doing. He looked at her and said “Can you dance Snow?” she shook her head and said “My dad took me out of dance classes when I was younger and pushed me into maths,”

“Did you still want to dance?”  Snow turned to look at Funky but didn’t reply. Funky dropped it and continued teaching Snow “So your job is to introduce us and keep the crowd pumped so they give us more tips,” she nodded and Funky went to join the others rehearsing.

Flirty ran over to Snow, pulled her up and said “We are finished now and better go get ready for tonight,” Flirty pulled her really close and Snow could fell his muscles on her body, she didn’t want to admit how aroused Flirty made her feel but he was perfect. Flirty turned and walk away as if he knew she would follow, as if he knew he had her screaming for him on the inside.

Friendly walked out to the car with Snow and she wanted to know more about the man who had fascinated her so much the night before. “You are an amazing dancer,” She said trying to start up a conversation with him “Thank you,” He said before blushing. Snow was amazed by his modesty; she didn’t think he knew how good he was. “As dancers go, I think you are one of the best I have ever seen,” Friendly shook his head “The women don’t come to see me dance, they come to watch me take my clothes off and then they push for me to take them home to fulfil their fantasies,” Friendly said while getting in the car. This filled Snows head with more questions “Do any off you have girlfriends?” the three men in the car shook their heads “Who you want to share your boyfriend with hundreds of other women?” said Frisky with a smiled on his face. Flirty shook his head “Frisky likes to take his fans home and give them what they want, Friendly and I stopped doing that a long time ago,”

“Why did you stop?” Snow asked.

“Because women come home with us, get everything they want, a night of passion and pleasure then in the morning they go back to reality, a family, a husband and a perfect life, they just use us to live on the edge for one night,” Friendly said with heavy heart. “They want more, I give them more, its how I want to live and it keeps me full,” Frisky said, he said those words in a like he was a hunter and women with dull and repetitive sex lives were the pray, he finished his sentence with “I aim to please,” and chuckled all the way back to the flats. The men spent the rest of the afternoon getting costumes ready and packing the car but Flirty took time out too come see Snow who was having a nap ready to stay up most of the night.

Flirty gently knocked on the door and walked into the room topless. His muscles rippled as he moved and this made something inside of Snow sing. Flirty sat on the bed next to Snow and she sat up straight so she was fact to face with him, his gorgeous brown eyes gazed into hers as he said “We are setting off soon, I thought you might want to get ready,” Snow smiled at him but what she really wanted to do was just jump on him. Snow was very caged at home, she had only ever kissed a boy when she was younger and she hadn’t really thought about it since but these men turned her on, they really set her going and she had to think twice about kiss Flirty. Flirty react over Snow to open a draw on the night table. He pulled put a wallet and slowly brushed his hand against Snows legs as he put the wallet in his pocket, if she was going to do it, she was going to have to do it now. Snow lent in really close to Flirty’s lips and bit hers, to do it or not but Flirty took things into his own hands and kissed her. She was shocked at first but as he licked her lips with his tongue she started to relax. Wearing only one of Flirty’s old shirts Snow was already half naked and Flirty took advantage of that rubbing his hands all over her body, teasing and pleasing her until she wanted to beg for him to do it, to just fuck her but he had other ideas. He slowly got up and started walking away “What are you doing?” said Snow disappointing and pining for more “If I just gave it to you, the excitement is lost; I have to keep up the tempo,” he whispered before walking out.

Snow got dress into jeans and a t-shirt ready for the car ride to the Club, when she walked out onto the street she realised an ex-boyfriend shouting her. She walked up to him and asked “What are you doing here?”

“Your step mother wants you to come home,” He replied as he opened the car door. Snow shook her head and walked away “You don’t belong here Snow,” the Ex shouted “You are from a land of millionaires and socialites, this is a few pounds and drop outs,”

“Everyone can change,” Snow shouted back as the Ex got in the car and slammed his door.

Snow washed her face in the toilets before the show; she was really nervous and didn’t want to go out onto the stage. She saw a shadow behind her and she turned around. It was only Flirty, he picked her up and pinned her against the wall, Snow could feel something hard pressing against her legs and it was making her excited. Flirty kissed her and Snow kissed him back, slipping her tongue in and out of his month gently. Flirty was struggling to contain himself and pressed her harder against the wall. He placed his hand on her thigh and slowly stroked her up to the top of her legs, just before he used his fingers to stroke her insides Flirty backed off. He placed her back on the floor and gently kissed her on the forehead “See you after the show Snow,” he said before giving her a cheeky smile and leaving her desperate for him.

Snow leapt onto the stage and shouted to the rowdy audience “Are you ready ladies?” they screams as they knew what was coming. Snow was dazed by all the women, there were hundred and they were all waning one things, these seven men to take their clothes off for them. As the seven men ran onto the stage in their cowboy uniforms, the women screamed even louder and threw money onto the stage. Women stood up from out their seats just to get a touch of the men or an acknowledging wink. All the women wanted to be danced with as the men picked women out the crowd. This was what they paid for. All night the women were throwing money at the seven men and all night Snow had her eyes on her prize, she wanted Flirty and she wanted him bad.

When they finally got back to the flats, some of the men had invited women to come back with them and hurried into their bedrooms. Friend said goodnight and walked into his room alone. Once Flirty and Snow were alone he picked her up and walked into the bedroom with her in his arms. When he got to the bedroom he threw her down on the bed and took his shirt off, his beautiful body was something he used to turn ladies on and it worked at charm with Snow. She lay back on the bed and waited for him to crawl on top of her. He hovered over her and pulled her top off, and then he kissed all the way up to her lips before rest his body on top of hers. Snow smiled with delight as he kissed and nibbled on her neck and pushed his hips against hers. He pressed the hard bulge in his pants against her jeans which she just wanted to rip off. Somehow Flirty seemed to know what Snow wanted and he pulled down her jeans in hast while she unbuckled his belt and threw it to the ground allowing for his jeans to just slide off. At this point Snow was ready to beg for it, which gave her an Idea. She stood him up and got on her knees, now this she had never done before but she was ready to give it a try, she downed his boxers and exposed the only part of Flirty that the women at the club didn’t see. She took it in her hand and slowly paced it into her mouth. When she looked up, Flirty had the biggest grin on his face. This was what made men happy. The fact that snow was completely naked and giving a man a blow job that she had only met two days ago didn’t embarrass her, it excited her! She could defiantly get used to this new life. As Flirty started to find it hard to hold onto his load he pulled her up and kissed her quickly, he pushed her onto the bed and stroked her with his fingers. She didn’t know what to do, she wanted to scream and just before she did Flirty filled her mouth with his tongue and gave her something to concentrate on other than the pleasure she was feeling. As she felt the pleasure growing inside her Flirty placed himself inside her, just a little bit at first, he trusted slowly and gently but when he felt Snows muscles relax he got faster and harder. Snow felt the pleasure bubble over inside and she let out a little whimper. Flirty smiled before dropping onto the bed next to her. Snow rolled over and hugged him, they fell to sleep and Snow was happy for once.

The next morning Snow woke up but the men were gone. Flirty had left her a note on his mirror “Make yourself at home, we will be back after rehearsal” Snow sat in the living area and turned on the TV. Suddenly there was a buzz from the door. Snow walked up to the intercom and asked who it was “Snow it’s me, we need to talk,” The sound of her step-mothers voice tore through Snow like a hurricane but she knew she had to let her in, so she did.

Snows step mother sat across from her and said “I will make us some coffee,” Snow just let her do it because she knew she wasn’t going to go home with her. Snow took a sip from the drink her step mother had given her and immediately felt funny, before she knew it Snow blacked out.

When the men got home they found the door open and they ran inside. They found Snow on the floor and instantly took her to the hospital. The doctor told the Seven Strippers that Snow White had been drugged and she might never wake up. The other men left Flirty to watch over her while they piece together what had happened at the flats. While Snow was unconscious, the seven men pieced together what had happened and her step-mother was arrested. After 3 months the doctors discussed how unethical it was too keep Snow White on life support and decided to turn it off. Flirty walked in the room and said goodbye to Snow. “I hope you can hear me Snow because I want you to wake up, I was to talk to you again, I want to watch you dance and I want to make your life better, please just wake up,” Flirty kissed her on the lips and walked to excite the room. Unexpectedly with a cough, Snow uttered the words “I am awake,” Flirty spun around filled with joy. The doctors ran into the room followed by the other six strippers. The doctors looked at each other “This has never happened before,” they mumbled between themselves.

When Snow was finally allowed home, she couldn’t feel anymore content with going home with the seven strippers.

Snow and Flirty lived happily for around two weeks before a new act joined the group called Prince Charming and Snow fell madly in love with him. It turns out that Prince Charming was happy to share and Snow got the best of both worlds.

She was a very happy girl!!


CITIZENS OF BLOGWORLD – I BESEECH YOU

BloggerIdol

My fellow Blogglanders,

I’d like to take a moment to step outside of the humor box and use my blog post today as an opportunity to spread awareness for a cause I truly believe in.

There comes a time in the lives of all bloggers when we find a need to step back and reflect on our journey through the virtual utopia that is Blogworld. Some of us have come here to broaden our horizons and to find inspiration within the photo or travel blogs that pepper the Freshly Pressed page. Many of us find comfort and community amongst the animal lover or mommy blogs of WordPress. Still others use their blog to extract humor from the banality of the workday life and to share their plight with the blog world around them.

But once in a great while there comes a blogger who stands out among the rest- a blogger who effortlessly straddles the line between tragedy and comedy. A blogger who bucks convention with his often times controversial opinions on the validity of religion or the sanctity of marriage or the awesomeness of Star Trek. A blogger who challenges the status quo, strives to enlighten both men and women alike, and who boldly laughs in the face of clowns.

It is this singular blogger who I believe can deliver us all into an era of change and lead us down a path of righteousness and light. That is why I, Hellis of Bloggerland, am asking its citizens for their support and their vote for EDWARD HOTSPUR as champion of the BLOGGER IDOL contest.

“Amongst the weeds of the world, a flower grows…”

CAST YOUR VOTE FOR EDWARD HOTSPUR HERE:


Let’s Get Ready To Rumble!!!

ninja_guitar_duel

WEDNESDAY! WEDNESDAY! WEDNESDAY!

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! WITNESS THE SPECTACLE THAT IS DESTINED TO BE KNOWN AS THE DUEL OF THE CENTURY! WATCH IN AMAZEMENT AS BLOGWORLDS’ OWN LILY-LADEN LOTHARIO EDWARD HOTSPUR MATCHES WITS WITH THE ENIGMATIC CLOWN PRINCE HIMSELF- LE CLOWN IN A DUEL SO INTENSE IT’S SURE TO MAKE HAMILTON AND BURR LOOK LIKE A SLAP FIGHT!

BUT WAIT…THERE’S MORE!!!

WATCH AS TEAM EDWARD’S OWN LOVELY AND TALENTED GINGERSNAAP OF OHMYGODJUSTDOWHATISAY FAME, FLANKED BY THE VERY HANDSOME EL GUAPO FACE-OFF AGAINST LE CLOWN’S OWN WORDSMITH EXTRODINAIRES MADAME WEEBLES AND SPEAKER 7.

The winning topics:

  • Furries (fetish), suggested by Carrie Rubin (16 votes);
  • Group Sex in Retirement Adult Community, suggested by Rutabaga (10 votes);
  • Protection Identities, suggested by The Ringmistress (9 votes).

The face-offs will be as follow:

  • September 19 – Furries: Ginger Snaap VS Speaker7;
  • September 20 – Protection Identities: El Guapo VS Madame Weebles;
  • September 21 – Group Sex in Retirement Community: Edward VS Le Clown. 

All posts written by Team Iron Gonads of Iron Fire will be published on Le Clown‘s blog; posts from Team Dachshund will be published on Edward‘s blog. Winners will be crowned by the amount of LIKES each post will get. So you, readers, will have the final say as to who’s this blogosphere’s force to be reckoned with.

TICKETS AVAILABLE FOR THE EPIC BATTLE ROYALE AT THE DOOR FOR A LIMITED TIME ONLY!!!

THEY’LL SELL YOU A SEAT BUT YOU’LL ONLY NEED THE EDGE….


***DATELINE – SANTA***

santa_arrested20721

// — NEWSLINE: NORTH POLE — //

Reuters

North Pole – The North Pole District Attorney announced today that his office would continue to pursue the prosecution of Santa Claus in spite of a new setback to Claus as his attorney, Jose Baez, removed himself from the growing Claus case after a successful appeal in the Pole Court.

Santa Claus, arraigned on a host of charges ranging from workplace safety violations and fraud, to prostitution and drug possession, now faces an uncertain future with a court-appointed advocate.

“I know this appears to be an abandonment of a major and beloved public figure, but I cannot in good conscience continue to represent Mr. Claus,” Baez said in a prepared press release yesterday.

When asked for a response, the DA merely said to reporters, “Mr. Baez’ statement says it all.”

Recent developments, however, have also added to the workload of the NPDA and his staff. In a heated court exchange last week, the DA was arguing for an injunction against Gloria Allred, the surprise attorney for Mrs. Claus in the concurrent and bitter divorce proceedings associated with this case. The DA requested the injunction due to the administrative burden Ms. Allred is apparently creating for the entire staff.

An unnamed source close to the DA, on the condition of anonymity, provided voice recordings, allegedly of the DA, stating, “If that bitch cries on the courthouse steps one more time, I’m going to personally rip out her uterus with salad tongs.”

In response, a representative for Ms. Allred stated that she would not stoop to the levels implied by that leak, but was very hurt by the implication that she even had reproductive organs.

Sources in the local legal community speculated that the DA is in fact overwhelmed with media requests and related issues.

“We just don’t get this kind of circus up here,” said one lawyer when asked about the issue, who went on to point out that the prior week was the break point for the DA’s Staff, which featured daily press conferences by Allred, as well as an appearance by Reverend Al Sharpton, who stood with Santa Claus after a prayer for justice.

“This is yet another example of the Establishment using its power in racist ways,” Sharpton said. “Santa Claus is a victim of racism, and we stand with him in his time of need. He is a brother, no matter white he is.”

The Sharpton rally soon turned violent, elevating this sleepy town to global attention, and the North Pole is now the growing focus of an Occupy rally, adding to the confusion here.

In light of all this publicity, one judge on the North Pole Circuit did say for the record, “The sooner this mess is over with, the better.”

FOLLOW THE DEBACLE:

SANTA SPAM PART ONE

SANTA SPAM PART TWO

SANTA SPAM PART THREE

SANTA SPAM UPDATE

UPDATE SANTA CLAUS

TRENDING NOW – SANTA CLAUS


F*cked Up Fairy Tales

F*CKED UP FAIRY TALES is a compilation project for bloggers who wish to take up the challenge of writing their own spin on a classic fairy tale. Bloggers are invited to choose one of the tales below and leave their choice in the comments. Only one tale per blogger, please. I will update the list as soon as the choices roll in. Tales are assigned on a first come, first choose basis.

Each tale is to be no more than 5000 words in length, and can be as funny, sick, twisted, erotic or vanilla as you wish. Once your tale is finished feel free to email it back to me where I will run it in a feature post as well add it to the page above. When all the tales are complete, I will work with a publishing company who is volunteering to publish the compilation of works in both ebook and paperback formats. All proceeds from the compiled works will be donated to a participating charity, with sales records made available to contributors annually.

UPDATE – ALL TALES ARE ASSIGNED. IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO PARTICIPATE AND HAVE NOT RECEIVED A TALE, LEAVE AN IDEA IN THE COMMENTS AND I’LL ADD IT TO THE LIST.


Interview With…Lucifer

In my world, Lucifer looks a lot like Colin Farrell.

In my world, Lucifer looks a lot like Colin Farrell.

Today’s REAPER WITH ISSUES interview comes to you live from scenic downtown Hell, because today we sit down with none other than the Devil himself, Lucifer.

HE: Good morning, Lucifer. You look nice today.

LUCIFER: *runs hands over Italian silk suit* Yes, yes I do. And might I say that you look lovely as well. I cannot remember the last time I saw polyester blend worn so tastefully.

***

HE: *sighs* How was your trip to Earth? I noticed you didn’t travel by bus the way the Horsemen did.

LUCIFER: I will admit there are certain perks to being an Archangel. The ability to apparate is one of them.

***

HE: That’s right…I almost forgot. You are an Angel. So does that mean you are lacking in the… “meat department” or is that just a rumor?

LUCIFER: Let me be clear- I am an Archangel and as a rule we do not have “junk” as it were. Sadly, when my Father reassigned me to Hell he equipped me with said apparatus as a punishment. His plan worked beautifully, as this particular appendage is more work than it’s worth.

***

HE: You’ve stated that you were “reassigned” to Hell by your Father. Is there any truth to the rumor that this demotion came from a falling out over a woman?

LUCIFER: Oh how little birds love to chirp.

HE: So, I take it you aren’t going to answer the question?

LUCIFER: My lips are sealed.

***

HE: Alright, moving on. What confounds you most about mortals?

LUCIFER: Your overwhelming desire to know the sexual predilections of others. The mind boggles at the effort put toward investigating the bedroom habits of your would be politicians. These same politicians then refuse to represent the rights of their constituents based on their sexual predilections. How you mortals manage to accomplish anything is beyond my comprehension.

***

HE: On that note, if you were mortal, what job would you want to have?

LUCIFER: Literary Agent.

***

HE: No explanation necessary. Tell me, is it hard working for God?

LUCIFER: Working for my Father? Oh what to say, what to say… I suppose when inspected in the proper light the idea of working for God may seem appealing, but I haven’t found that to be necessarily true.

HE: Really? In what way?

LUCIFER: The man lacks vision, for starters. The first thing I would do if I were to take over Heaven is rewrite the Bible. Too many contradictions. No wonder mortals are confused as to what is expected of them.

***

HE: Rewrite the Bible. Interesting. So now tell me- what do you think of the Horsemen?

LUCIFER: Ugh. You want to talk about the ponies. *sighs* So be it. Where do I begin? Pestilence is an insufferable know it all, Famine is a stickler for standards, War is a sexual harassment lawsuit waiting to happen and Grim, well…Grim has his moments.

***

HE: Your dream date is?

LUCIFER: Bjork. There’s a lot of pent up hostility in that frigid little body. I’d love to melt her-

***

HE: Got it. Pick one- Beatles or Elvis?

LUCIFER: Why the Beatles, of course. The late great Mr. Lennon sent Jesus off the deep end with one simple statement. I’ve always admired him for that.

***

HE: Favorite sports team?

LUCIFER: I am sad to say that I am a former fan of Tampa Bay Rays baseball. They disappointed me a few years ago. I haven’t forgotten.

***

HE: Where do you see yourself in five years?

LUCIFER: North Korea.

***

HE: What would mortals be most surprised to learn about you?

LUCIFER: I refute the claim the a fore mentioned politicians have made that I, indeed, am the entity to blame for their succumbing to their baser instincts. No such whispering into ears was committed by me or any of my demon henchmen. We simply do not have the time.

That concludes our interview with the Lord of the Underworld, Lucifer. Stay tuned tomorrow for back to back interviews with God and his golden boy, Jesus!


Interview With…War

War

HE: Today we sit down with everyone’s favorite Horseman, War. Good morning, War. How was your trip to Earth?

WAR: Freakin’ awesome!  I missed the bus transfer in Purgatory, so I had to walk a some, but then this carful of female rodeo clowns gave me a ride in.  Say…do I have white makeup anywhere fun?

***

HE: *struggling not to look* What confounds you most about mortals?

WAR: Uh…nothin’.  Well, I guess sometimes I wonder why they go and hack and bludgeon the shit outta one another.  Y’all are so fucking good at it, I almost don’t need to try.

***

HE: Where is your favorite place to reap?

WAR: Battlefields, hands-down, and the bloodier the better.  Your inner cities aren’t bad these days either, on a small scale.

***

HE: If you were mortal, what job would you want to have?

WAR: Shoot, do we have time for my list?  Porn star – that’s an obvious one.  I was thinkin’ doctor since I ain’t scared a blood. But the good kinda doctor like one of them Gyno…cogo-ologists, you know, the kind that looks at lady parts. Not one of them human butthole doctors. That shit ain’t right.  I was also thinking a vet might be awesome but only because I think the idea of having your entire arm up an elephant’s ass is fucking hilarious… [actually rolls on floor laughing]

***

HE: Has a mortal ever escaped you?

WAR: Just one. Fucking Lazarus. I’ve had some reclassified out of my reach, like Caesar.  He got too big for his Rubicon-wading britches, so he got moved from my domain over to Grim’s.  Same with Napoleon, that little Frog pantywaist.  You might think Saddam Hussein escaped me by livin’ all up in his own asshole there, but in the end, that was MY noose.

***

HE: What’s the most negative aspect of wearing a meat suit?

WAR: There ain’t no downside, Sugar Britches (winks).  Uh, they’re kind of fragile.  Do you know how fucking painful bending your boner is? [shudders] Maybe the random need to back out a stinker.

***

HE: Is it hard working for God?

WAR: Fuck yes!  Think about it: “Now War, you’re supposed to go and reap souls lost to conflict… but don’t be too messy… and don’t break shit… and don’t be too noisy, I’m resting… and that blood will stain, so don’t get it on you!”  Seriously, I’d rather be married to a Human woman with control issues.

***

HE: Is Lucifer as bad as they say?

WAR: Lucifer is a card-carrying dickwad.  If he weren’t one of them special creations of God, I’dve pummeled the piss out of his silk-suit-wearing panzie ass millennia ago.  What I hate about Lu is that he won’t just come out and fuck with you like a man.  He’s got to be all passive-aggressive and shit, so you’re just cruising along thinking the everything is cool and BAM! You’re asking yourself, “Hey, how’d this dick get all the way up my ass?”

***

HE: What do you have to say about the Mayans?

WAR: Oooooh!  Those are so good with cheese!  Or fried!  I once had them barbecued and then smothered with pilates.  Fuck, I’m hungry.  Is there a taco place close?

***

HE: Your dream date is?

WAR: You.  Those puppies real?

HE: [ahem] Can you just answer the question?

WAR:  Guess I shoulda worn the tattooed rocker meatsuit.  I’ll say my dream date was Catherine the Great.  You think that story about her dying underneath her horse was true?  The only thing close to being horse-like in that rumor was my epic fuckin’ …

***

HE: Alright, alright, moving on. Beatles or Elvis?

WAR: Fuck that hippy shit. I’m straight up old school metal dude, er, dudette. I do my best reapin’ to Disturbed. They ain’t metal but I love that shit.  Makes me want to go hack something with a dull blade. Or bone them in half…

***

HE: Favorite sports team?

WAR: You know the Mongols used to have this brutal sport played on horseback… I don’t know.  I have to admire teams that suck ass but have loyal fans.  The Red Sox come to mind.  I hang out with fans mainly for the fun, and of course cheerleaders.

***

HE: Where do you see yourself in five years?

WAR: Kicking ass and taking names, baby.  Humans are always coming up with new reasons to go schwack each other, and yours truly will be there to enjoy the fuckery.

***

HE: What would mortals be most surprised to learn about you?

WAR: I have a sensitive side… no shit.  One time, I was out reaping and there was this little kid who got shot.  So I was all, like, “Aww, that’s sad,” and then I jerked his little soul out – *ssschwaap* – just like that.  Sensitive an’ shit.

***

This concludes our sit down with War, the last of our interviews with The Four Horsemen. Stay tuned tomorrow for our exclusive on site interview in Hell with the ever stylish, ever evil, Lucifer. Then we’ll round out our weekend with an interview with the Big Man himself, God and his favorite son, Jesus! Stay tuned…


Interview With…Pestilence

HE: Today’s interview has us sitting down with Creeping Death himself, Pestilence. Good morning, Pestilence. How was your trip to Earth?

PEST: Good morning, Miss Ellis. Considering I had to get a bus transfer, it wasn’t bad.  Once you make the transdimensional leap from Purgatory to the mortal realm several times, it’s old-hat.  Little known fact: Purgatory started as a sort of safe zone for travel from Earth to and from either Heaven or Hell.  It’s a sort of pressurization chamber, like divers use.

***

HE: What confounds you most about mortals?

PEST: Body odor [makes face].  I have no idea how God managed to create Humans in his image yet chose to have them excrete smelly substances.  And this is coming from me, the Bacteria and Virus King.  Eew [shudders].

***

HE: Where is your favorite place to reap?

PEST: Tropical climates are by far the best for reaping within my domain.  I mean really, I almost don’t have to do anything except follow the molds and fungi around and pick up after them.

***

HE: If you were mortal, what job would you want to have?

PEST: Oh, I don’t know.  I’m not sure I could be mortal and sit in my own cloud of stench all day.  In fact I need a shower now.  But I’ll be fair and answer your question.  I guess perhaps a lab technician at the CDC.  That or a postal worker.

***

HE: Has a mortal ever escaped you?

PEST: Yes and fiddlesticks!  Those Humans are so goshdarned clever that sometimes I think they’d do a better job than I would at reaping a la Pestilence.  Do you know why viruses mutate?  [waits for answer]

HE: Oh, you’re actually asking me [rolls eyes] – why do viruses mutate?

PEST: They mutate because I’m constantly having to make new strains to keep ahead of your best efforts to counter me.

***

HE: What’s the most negative aspect of wearing a meat suit?

PEST: Body odor.  I’m sorry, am I obsessive here?  A little Freudy-Doidy? Haaa ha  hah ha… ahem.  But seriously, body odor.  I also tend to be very disturbed by no-reason boners.

***

HE: Is it hard working for God?

PEST: I’d like to say yes, and I’d like to say no.  The sad truth is, he tends to come up with awesome creations but then inserts middle managers between him and his creation when he finds it too difficult to manage.  So for in-the-trenches marks of performance, I have to give him an ‘F.’  However, for his strategic vision, nobody beats him.

***

HE: Is Lucifer as bad as they say?

PEST: He’s a doodie head.  He does wear nice clothes though.

***

HE: What do you have to say about the Mayans?

PEST: I’d say they were pretty susceptible to infection just like everyone else.

***

HE: Your dream date is?

PEST: Hmm… so many to choose from.  I think the day the Black Death started in Europe has to be number one, and the Spanish Flu thing there I did wasn’t bad either…

What?  Oh THAT kind of date… uhm, well… I’ve never been on a date [hangs head].
***
HE: Beatles or Elvis?

PEST: Oh, I’m sorry.  Neither?  Okay, truth is I love classical music.  You Humans got that right.  I like most of what your composers created, and I am particularly taken by the Baroque artists.  Rock and roll sounds like… sweaty Humans.

***

HE: Favorite sports team?

PEST: I’m not really into sports so much.  I like watching Kasparov play chess – now that is exciting!

***

HE: Where do you see yourself in five years?

PEST: Reaping, of course, but can I sort of qualify that?  Okay.  I want to be better at what I do in five years, you know.  Like perhaps I’ll make a better form of Ebola.  It just kills me that after all that time and effort, that virus is only about 95% lethal.  I think I can get it up into the high 98% range.  Sometimes I secretly dream of creating some whole new type of pandemic… I mean, there’s bacteria and there are viruses… what if there was a whole new thing out there.  I have dreams too!

***

HE: What would mortals be most surprised to learn about you?

PEST: I like to collect stamps, and macramé.

***

Thanks for stopping by and visiting with the Reaper better known as Pestilence. Tune in tomorrow when we sit down with everyone’s favorite Horseman, War. Stick around this weekend when we’ll be sitting down to chat with some of the upper (and lower) members of the Office of Heavenly Affairs. Until then, stay well and avoid the Reaper!


Interview With…Famine

famine

HE: We continue our interviews with the mysterious Horseman known as Famine. Good morning, Famine. How was your trip to Earth?

FAMINE: You assume I left, ha, that’s… that’s funny.  I haven’t gotten away from Earth in what seems like eons.  Just when I think I might get away, some jack-hole gets me involved in another bunch of crap that I can’t delegate out and I can’t pass on higher up the chain.  Story of my fucking life… uh, death… existence.

***

HE: What confounds you most about mortals?

FAMINE: Toy dogs.  Fucking ‘Toy’ dog breeds.  The women and gay guys carrying these things around are the same ones freaking out and jumping up on chairs when they see rats and mice.  What the hell, man?  And cocaine.  Why the hell would anyone want to do ANYTHING faster and with more sweating?

***

HE: Where is your favorite place to reap?

FAMINE: Depends, easiest or most fun?  Easiest: L.A.  Just ask a broad if she’s expecting or if she just had a baby, *BAM*, job is done for you!  Not only will she stop eating, she’ll puke up Thanksgiving dinner from three years ago!  Most fun?  Suburbs of Atlanta.  Have you ever watched a 350 pound guy looking at a plate of ribs or chicken and waffles and suddenly realize he isn’t hungry?  Funny as shit!  They get mad.  Rumplestiltskin mad.  I could do that all day!

***

HE: If you were mortal, what job would you want to have?

FAMINE: Sales associate at Abercrombie. Every time some skinny bitch walked out of the dressing room I could say, “Uhm, Honey, you want me to get you the next size up?” I think I could be pretty happy with that.

***

 
HE: Has a mortal ever escaped you?

FAMINE: Victoria Beckham.  But the game ain’t over yet.

***

HE: What’s the most negative aspect of wearing a meat suit?

FAMINE: Grooming.  I mean, the showering, the cleaning, the de-stinking.  Really a lot of work.

***

 
HE: Is it hard working for God?

FAMINE: A boss is a boss is a boss, you know?  They give you bottom lines and you’re just supposed to run with them.  My budget barely not-feeds the westernized world!  Don’t get me started on trying to juggle maternity leave rotations for those slutty Succubi!

***

 
HE: Is Lucifer as bad as they say?

FAMINE: No.  We get each other.  He’s got a job to do, he’s got to get it done on time and under budget just like the rest of us.

***

 
HE: What do you have to say about the Mayans?

FAMINE: Fucking nutty.  I mean, I like a good party, but, to quote a well known space cowboy, “Eating people alive? Where’s that get fun?”

***
HE: Your dream date is?

FAMINE: Tina Majorino.  Freaking adorable, I love her.  She’d finally notice me, in the bushes, with the camera and be all like, “Hey! Are you the one sending me those letters? You wanna hit the Olive Garden with me?”.  And I’d be like, “Olive Garden?  Really?”.  And there would be this split second of us looking at each other and we’d both screech out “UNLIMITED BREAD STICKS, SUCKER!”  It would be awesome, you know?  Magic…

***

HE: Beatles or Elvis?

FAMINE: Uhg.  Uhm, Elvis, if I had to choose.  If I got to pick, Cheap Trick.  I’ll take Elvis because Zander kicked ass on Don’t Be Cruel.  Why always Beatles or Elvis? Beatles or Stones?  What about The Clash or Abba?  Iron Maiden or Prince?

***

HE: Favorite sports team?

FAMINE: The Eagles.

***

 
HE: Where do you see yourself in five years?

FAMINE: Probably doing the same fucking job, but with a three and a half percent increase in pay, those cheap mother-fuckers…

***

 
HE: What would mortals be most surprised to learn about you?

FAMINE: Hmm.  Not sure… Oh!  Okay, I got one!  No one ever believes me, but I had nothing to do with Karen Carpenter.  Seriously, that was all just fucked up psyche and shit.  Hell, do you have any idea what I went through over that?  Jesus loved her.  I swear, that’s the reason I haven’t even been considered for a promotion!  Hell! I was sending her fruitcakes and candy grams just to save my own ass!  And I do I ever get the credit for Mama Cass?

***

That concludes our interview with the Horsemen known as Famine. Tune in tomorrow when we sit down with Creeping Death himself, Pestilence, followed by War on Thursday and a special mystery guest on Friday. We round out the weekend with back to back interviews with the Big Man himself, God on Saturday and a one on one exclusive with Jesus on Sunday. Stay tuned!


Interview With…Death

Grim

In an effort to promote my latest work entitled REAPERS WITH ISSUES I’ve decided to devote the next four days to interviewing my favorite middle management employees, the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.

We’ll begin the first of our interviews with the man beneath the cloak. We’ll discuss what it’s like working for God, his views on intra-office politics and yes, even his love life.

Today I sit down with none other than Death himself, THE GRIM REAPER.

***

HE: Good morning, Grim. How was your trip to Earth?

GRIM: Fine, I suppose, considering I traveled here by bus. Wouldn’t you know I sat next to a guy who had just come from an Oktoberfest somewhere. Nothing like sitting next to a fat man with bratwurst farts.

 

HE: Bus?? But I thought you were one of the Four HORSEmen?

GRIM: You’re right; I am, but since God promoted Gabriel to Head of the Archangel Board our department’s equine budget has been “reallocated” south, if you know what I mean.

 

HE: South? Are you talking about Hell?

GRIM: Look, I don’t want to be the guy who trash talks other department heads, but between you and me let’s just say that Lucifer’s productivity doesn’t jive with the funds flowing his way. It’s good to have a big brother in high places is all I’ve got to say on the matter.

 

HE: Alright, moving on. What confounds you most about mortals?

GRIM: I’d have to say it’s your obsession with your appearance. A mortal’s lifespan is over in a flash, and yet you feel the need to spend your money on useless beauty procedures. If you only knew what you looked like without your skin, you wouldn’t bother. Trust me.

 

HE: Where is your favorite place to reap?

GRIM: Canada. The friendliest mortals come from there. The beer’s not bad either, eh?

 

HE: If you were mortal, what job would you want to have?

GRIM: Gloucesterman, hands down. Nothing sounds better to me than a solitary life of peace and tranquility on the sea. Plus all you can eat lobster. Hmm…pass the buttah.

 

HE: Has a mortal ever escaped you?

GRIM: Never. Although over the years Dick Clark has given me the slip a couple of times.

 

HE: What’s the most negative aspect of wearing a meat suit?

GRIM: Meat suits are extremely high maintenance. I’ve yet to find one that didn’t have something wrong with it. They’re hot, they leak and they fall apart easily. And did I mention the smell?

 

HE: Is it hard working for God?

GRIM: God? Uh…no, not really. I’d say the biggest problem is working for the idiots he puts in charge; namely his sons. They bicker constantly; spend money on themselves, barely show up to work and help themselves to the Heavenly budget just to name a few things. Not to mention that each one thinks he’s the boss when the Big Man’s not around. Typical family business horseshit. Oops! Sorry…horse-puckies.

 

HE: Is Lucifer as bad as they say?

GRIM: Only if you are a mortal. I was reaping amoebas while he was still in his Father’s good graces, so he’s not too intimidating to me. He’s sort of like a splinter, not lethal- but irritating.

 

HE: What do you have to say about the Mayans?

GRIM: One of Lucifer’s practical jokes. Just ignore him or he’ll keep it up.

 

HE: Your dream date is?

GRIM: A certain special lady, a certain Latin meat suit, and a month in the Bahamas. In fact I’m leaving on a trip there as soon as I’m finished with this interview.

 

HE: Beatles or Elvis?

GRIM: Coltrane.

 

HE: Favorite sports team?

GRIM: Anyone but the Raiders. Those a-holes don’t know when to die.

 

HE: Where do you see yourself in five years?

GRIM: If all goes to plan, running my department. I recently managed to cut loose some dead weight so I think things should be running smoothly once I get back from the Bahamas.

 

HE: What would mortals be most surprised to learn about you?

GRIM: That I have feelings just like everyone else. Being Death isn’t easy, you know. Please don’t fear me.

***

Thanks for stopping by and visiting with the Grim Reaper. Tune in Tuesday when we sit down with the Horseman better known as Famine, followed by Pestilence on Wednesday and War on Thursday. Stick around this weekend when we’ll be sitting down to chat with some of the upper (and lower) members of the Office of Heavenly Affairs. Until then, stay well avoid the Reaper!


And The Super Secret Project Is…

Grim Gravatar

The story behind my Super Secret Project begins like any good story begins; with lobster and beer. Or as they say in Portland, Maine where my good friend and partner in crime Tom Elias lives, “Lobstah and a rack a pounders.”

It was during this fateful drunken weekend spent at his beach house with my best friend Quinn and the infamous HR Nightmare that my latest writing project was born. That project, ladies and gentlemen, is a four novella collaborative series entitled:

REAPERS WITH ISSUES

LOCATION: Earth

YEAR: 2012, mainly

POPULATION: 7 billion Human souls and counting…

From Purgatory –

The Grim Reaper and other three Horsemen of the Apocalypse are stretched to their limits reaping souls, and more drop dead every day.  With his department near the breaking point, Grim requests a team of five thousand Lesser Angels to serve as Deputy Reapers.

To Hell –

Lucifer is faced with overcrowded prisons and work camps.  He petitions the Board for permission to break ground on the 667th level of Hell.

To Heaven –

Gabriel, president of the Board of Archangels, denies both requests, citing budget restrictions.  Grim, determined to get what he wants, goes over the Board to the Office of Heavenly Affairs, otherwise known as God.  God denies Grim’s request but assigns a Heavenly Liaison to assist Grim, a liaison with a singular solution to the issues facing both Grim and Lucifer.

And back again -

The liaison’s name: Jesus.

REAPERS WITH ISSUES is the first in a four book novella series that chronicles the Grim Reaper’s struggles in middle-management. Click on Grim at the end of this post to visit our companion blog to learn more about the authors and the sequels to be released over the next few months. Don’t forget to sign Grim’s “Death Book” before leaving.

***DISCLAIMER***

This series is meant to poke good-natured fun at the topics of Chrisitanity, homosexuality, recreational drug abuse and office politics. If you are at all easily offended, we, the authors, will not be offended if you choose not to read our work. Please do not chuck hate bricks through our windows.

Thank you,

Tom Elias, H.E. Ellis, S. Quinn Shaw, Mikhail Vlakfeld

Please to enjoy the following opening of Reapers With Issues:

REAPERS WITH ISSUES

Death killed time rereading God’s memo while he waited for his dealer to show. Semi-baked, he decided, would be the condition necessary to inform his staff that their department would not be receiving the help they so desperately needed and that someone else, an outsider, would be put in place to oversee their operation. As far as Heaven and the Archangels were concerned, the Horsemen were officially on their own.

There had been a time when Death, Grim to those who knew him, could singlehandedly reap his entire department’s quota of souls and still have time left over to indulge in some high quality herbal recreation. The reality of reaping a population closing in on seven billion left Grim no choice but to seek his recreation locally. It didn’t take long for him to discover that local weed, like local Purgatory, was mediocre at best.

Lack of free time and quality pot were merely symptoms of a larger, growing problem. Reaping while short-staffed had robbed his Horsemen of any kind of life outside of the job, and lately Grim had noticed cracks beginning to show.

Pestilence developed a nasty habit of calling in sick with a new exotic illness at least once a week, and an incident over a cage dancer forced War into court-ordered anger management classes. Only Famine had been able to withstand the pressures of the job, although Grim did notice that he’d been shedding copious amounts of hair lately.

It was on behalf of his Horsemen that Grim requisitioned the Archangel Board to reassign five thousand Angels to his department for Reaping duty. A requisition that Gabriel, Head of the Archangel Board, repeatedly denied. Grim’s decision to go over the Board’s head to the office of Heavenly Affairs yielded nothing but a Heavenly Liaison, and God only knew who the Hell that was.

Unable to make sense of God’s decree, Grim stuffed the memo back into his pocket as he scoped out his surroundings which were, at the moment, in the alleyway behind his office building and the home of the Office of Human Death (OHD for short).

Talk about shitting where you eat, Grim thought to himself as he checked for souls milling about. The last thing he needed was for word to get out that the once great Reaper of Death had been reduced to buying sub-par pot behind his office building in the lamest ‘burb of the Universe.

Paranoia getting the better of him, he walked to the end of the alleyway which emptied into Purgatory’s corporate district, a massive office complex comprised of row after row of generic steel buildings, each one an exact replica of the one that came before.

Finding no one, Grim laughed to himself. Total waste of time, he thought. He couldn’t remember the last time anything bad happened in Purgatory. Then again, he couldn’t remember the last time anything good did, either.

Just the same, Grim thought it best to cloak himself in a human disguise, namely the dead body that until an hour ago belonged to the organic hemp farmer that was his latest reaping assignment. “Meat suits,” as the Horsemen liked to call them, were a necessary evil now that the Archangel Board cut the OHD’s travel expense budget, forcing Grim and his staff to reap by bus instead of horse. All it took was one bad road trip on a bus bound for Newark to make him rethink wearing his cloak while on assignment. Mortals, he discovered, were a lot faster and stronger than they looked.

Grim listened as the clock tower in Purgatory Square chimed one o’clock. Pedro, his dealer, was late. Out of both time and patience, Grim walked back to the rear entrance of the OHD just as the door swung open.

“Jesus Christ, Pedro!” Grim shouted. “Scare me to death why don’t you?”

Pedro stepped out into the alleyway, his eyes darting up and down the length of it. “How’d I scare you?” Pedro asked. “You’re the one in the Jesus suit.”

“Jesus? Really?” Grim asked as he smoothed down the late farmer’s long, sandy locks. “I kinda thought he looked like Clapton.”

“Clapton or not that’s some scary shit, man,” Pedro said, looking Grim up and down. “Someone said they saw Jesus walking around here this morning. You know he’d tell my Pops if he caught me dealing again. My old man believes every word that fool says.”

Though he may have been known throughout the Universe as Saint Peter Junior, “Pedro” earned a reputation in underground circles as the prime procurer of black market merchandise. It didn’t hurt that having a Father who manned the Gates of Heaven gave him access to all the best incoming contraband.

“I don’t know what to tell you, kid. Apostles die hard. Now are we going to do this thing or not?” Grim asked, hoping to get back to work before he was missed.

Pedro stepped away from Grim, eying him suspiciously. “First tell me why you’re wearin’ a mortal in Bland Land. You ain’t reaping.”

Grim pointed to his chest and said, “Lungs.”

“Ah…makes sense,” Pedro said, relieved.

Lungs and pockets were two of the three attachments Grim thought made wearing a mortal’s meat suit bearable. The third attachment he hoped to utilize later on that night.

“Are you serious about Jesus being here in Purgatory?” Grim asked, peering over his shoulder. “Because he is the last person I need to deal with right now.”

“Hey man, all I know is what I heard,” Pedro said. “Why? You gonna kick his ass? Let me know now and I’ll give you odds.”

“Thanks, but no thanks. I’ve had enough run-ins with Skippy Christ to last an eternity,” Grim said, remembering a certain spring day two-thousand years ago that didn’t end well for either of them.

“Skippy Christ,” Pedro chuckled. “I’ll have to remember that one.” Once he was sure they were alone Pedro opened his robe, pulled out a baggie and handed it to Grim. “This stuff’s fresh from Mexico. Lucky for you my old man doesn’t shake down nuns. Mother Superior came in loaded.”

“I guess this is my lucky day after all,” Grim said as he dug the farmer’s wallet out of his back pocket. “How much for the bag?”

“For you? One-fifty. Cash.”

“One-fifty?” Grim asked as he thumbed through the thin wallet. “What can I get for…sixty-five dollars and a condom?”

“Sixty-five’ll get ya’ an ounce.”

“An ounce? That’s it? You do know I’m Death, right?” Grim punctuated his question by slashing the air with an invisible scythe.

Pedro laughed. “Yeah, you keep swinging,” he said. “Everyone knows you work a pen better than a blade now a days.”

“Is that so?” Grim asked, knowing all too well it was.

“Oh yeah it is,” Pedro snickered. “Hey, I got an idea- how ‘bout you write me up? Oh man, I can see it now, ‘Dear God, Pedro wouldn’t cut me a deal on weed, the stingy pendejo. Kisses, Death.’” Pedro doubled over laughing while Grim stood there and seethed.

“Just give me the ounce and shut your piehole,” Grim said, finally.

Struggling to catch his breath, Pedro handed Grim the entire bag. “Throw in the rubber and the bag’s yours. I’m heading down to Lucifer’s club tonight. I’ll put it to good use.”

Grim’s eyes flew open wide. “Are you shitting me? Lucifer’s got a club now?”

“Hell yeah, he does,” Pedro answered.

“Of course…” Grim said in a sigh.

Ever since God in his infinite wisdom promoted Gabriel to President of the Archangel Board, Grim’s budget had been sent to Hell, literally. While he and his Horsemen had to make due with meat suits and bus passes; Lucifer and his crew of demons enjoyed a new office complex with an onsite gym and spa, and apparently now, a club.

Nepotism ad infinitum.

“Hey man, you should come check it out,” Pedro said as pocketed the condom. “Music sucks but the women are hot. Bring a rubber or your pecker’ll burn like Hell for a week.” Pedro dug deep under his robe and scratched.

Grim opened the bag and inhaled. “Kid, if this shit smokes up as good as it smells I’m not going anywhere.”

“Well let’s find out,” Pedro said as he pulled out a lighter and let Grim sample the merchandise.

Grim took a hit and quickly put his lungs to work. In no time the smoke made its way to his brain, filling cracks that had become chasms created by supervisors with agendas and employees with complaints and a Universe dependent on him to hold shit together. Grim took another hit and released the stress of his middle-management Hell along with the sweet smoke he blew out in a slow, steady stream from his lungs. For one perfect moment, Death was happy.

A snapping sound by his ear pulled him back to reality.

“Hey, wake up. You’re vibrating,” Pedro said, pointing to Grim’s hip.

Grim reached down to his pager and saw that he had a message from his secretary. His absence had been noted. Grim paid Pedro in cash as promised, making a mental note to start reaping in more affluent neighborhoods in the future. “Let me know the next time you get another haul like this one,” Grim said, regaining focus.

“Hey no problem. I’ll even cut you a deal if you hook me up with your secretary. That is one fine lookin’ chica.”

“Fran? Sorry kid, but you’re not her type.”

Pedro rubbed his ample belly and asked, “Oh yeah? What’s her type, then?”

Grim stepped through the door and said, “Bony,” just as it closed behind him.

Another urgent page from Fran rolled in as Grim tore down the vacant hallway that led to his basement office. Stopping at the janitor’s closet, Grim pulled the memo from his pocket and then removed his meat suit, swapping it with the cloak he’d stashed there earlier.

Officially in uniform, Grim took a minute to compose himself before he opened the door to his office. Though he knew for a fact he was in Purgatory, Grim couldn’t shake the feeling that he was about to open the door to Hell.

 


Happy Blogiversary To Me!

COVER

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.”

Yeah.

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:

SMASHWORDS

AMAZON


Calling All Leftys!

Left-handed-facts-Brain1

Today is our day! That’s right people, August 13th is national LEFT HANDERS DAY! Why August 13th you ask? Yeah, I have no clue. But I’d bet that between scissors, measuring cups and chainsaws Karma owes me at least three more upgrades in the reincarnation department, let alone my own holiday.

 

 

Despite all the hardships I face being a left-hander, I do have to say that I made out like a bandit because of it. Look to the picture on your left. Now look closely…that’s right. It’s a lefty guitar. Just like Hendrix, baby.

 

Anyway, I thought I would take a short break from my writing to celebrate with my fellow southpaws. On that note, let’s live it up! Apparently since we have nine less years of lifespan to do it in.


The Hotspur Challenge – Manfred Mann Edition

Manfred-Mann's-Earth-Band-Blinded-By-the-Light-&-Other-Hits

Resident blogger and uber audiophile Edward Hotspur recently penned (typed? keyed?) a post entitled: AN ANALYSIS AND DISSECTION OF THE UTTERLY STUPID SONG “ALL I WANT TO DO IS MAKE LOVE TO YOU”  in which he deciphers the twisted meaning behind Heart’s atrocious lyrics.

Naturally that got me thinking, and no good ever comes of that. So in the spirit of his blog post I offer up this challenge to the great EH:

What the hell was Manfred Mann trying to say when they released BLINDED BY THE LIGHT? I mean, WTF??? Just how prolific were drugs in the seventies?


The Gods Must Be Crazy – The Redux

divinetalescover

Something must be in the air, because not only am I working on a four-book compilation of short stories, my friend Dayton over at       THE FOG OF WARD has just completed a joint effort himself entitled ReDues: Divine Tales.

 

FROM THE BACK JACKET:

 

The gods have returned.

All of them!

The change promised by the ending of the Mayan Calendar in 2012 manifested itself in an unexpected manner. Every pantheon of gods and goddess, from every belief the world over, have returned … changing the world forever.

As the pantheons settle into their ancestral lands, they vie for worshippers, gaining or losing power along the way. They find the world of man a bewildering, crazy quilt, and each wishes to remake their lands in their own image.

Come and meet some of the inhabitants of this strangely familiar world in eleven new tales that explore what it means to worship in this new reality. A Knight Templar hunting mysteries. A rookie pitcher with a unique belief system. A wounded solider returned to battle by a goddess. A reporter who isn’t sure what to believe. A homicide detective on the Manhattan beat. A man out to kill the gods. A single father trying to survive in a world without Santa Claus. And many more!

Chronicling this new tomorrow are Dave Galanter, Allyn Gibson, Phil Giunta, Robert Greenberger, Paul Kupperberg, William Leisner, Scott Pearson, Aaron Rosenberg, Lawrence M. Schoen, Dayton Ward, and Steven H. Wilson. Join them and discover a world where everything old is new again—even the gods themselves.


ReDeus: Divine Tales, published by Crazy 8 Press, will premiere at the Shore Leave convention in Baltimore the weekend of August 3-5, and will be available in both trade paperback and electronic format on or around that time, as well.


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