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Posts tagged “ramblings

Earth Day Interview With Gaia

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Which God was the best in the sack?

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

How does it feel to be the original MILF?

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

What does Earth’s future hold for mankind?

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

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


It’s the Easter Bunn–uh…Wallaby?

Spring has finally sprung, and with it our interview with everyone’s childhood favorite, the Easter Bunny.

Determined to get an interview with this elusive holiday icon, I cornered him in his underground den and discovered something I’d not expected. I open today’s interview with the question that should have been asked ages ago:

HE: Say…you aren’t really a bunny, are you?

EB: Well Maybe it is time to come clean, if you wanna call me a Bunny go ahead but being a Bunny is not very useful when you deliver eggs is it! I am a Wallaby, you see, I can put all the eggs in my pouch and then I don’t have to go back and forth with my basket. I am all about convenience, you know what I mean.

HE: What made you decide to color and hide eggs?

EB: Shots. In my College years (I did not do much studying) my friends and I enjoyed colorful shots. So I now pick colors by having a shot, coloring an egg, different coloured shot, and different colored eggs. The hiding part is a long story about my friend and his … well it’s a long story.


HE: How do you feel about children eating chocolate likenesses of you?

EB: As we have just been through, I am not a Bunny, never will be because it will never be practical! So the Kiddywinks can eat as many chocolate bunnies as they please.                        


HE: How do you feel about sharing a holiday with Jesus?

EB: My mum once told me that story, I did not really understand it, and I mean it’s a bit gloomy for a Holiday all about the Kids, you know? Plus to me, chocolate crosses would be awful to make and color, all that blood and gore is for Halloween, not my holiday.


HE: Is there more than one Easter Bunny?
EB: If you call me a Bunny one more time, you will be getting nothing! And no, I am the one and the only, mostly because nobody likes the low pay and low hours. I wish sometimes that I had maybe an Easter Camel, so I could pack even more eggs or a Donkey, Donkeys can carry a lot of stuff, even pregnant women I have heard.


HE: Did you want to be an Easter Bunny when you were a kid…uh, a joey?

EB: No, as I have said I went to College, I just didn’t do well, this was my fall back, I wanted to be a Football Mascot but I do not think there is much call for a Wallaby, maybe if I was a Dolphin or A Ram! I mean have you ever heard of a Wallaby before today?! Do you even know what I look like?!


HE: What do you do when you aren’t hiding eggs?

EB: Nothing, I drink, I try and think of new ideas for next year but with 5 joeys at home and one on the way, thinking does not happen a lot.

Thank you, Easter Bun–Wallaby, for this timely and insightful interview. Return April 22nd as we celebrate Earth Day with none other that Gaia herself!


I Prank You Not

In recognition of April Fool’s Day I scored a rare opportunity to sit down with the God of Mischief, Loki.

HE: “Hello Loki. Thank you for taking time out of your busy day to speak with me and my readers.”

LOKI: “Hi.”

HE: “Uh, that’s it? ‘Hi?’”

LOKI: “Well, I’ve got a lot on my plate. You do realize what day this is, right? Nice fucking time management there, Chickie.”

HE: *looking at the calendar* “Well, since it’s April Fool’s Day I am going to assume you are joking.”

LOKI: “You would think so, wouldn’t you?”

HE: “I am guessing that April Fool’s Day is the busiest day of the year for you.”

LOKI: “No, that’d be Valentine’s Day. People say a lot of shit they don’t mean which makes for a lot of lies to distribute. Especially to the men folk.”

HE: “That’s just sad.”

LOKI: “I’ll tell you what’s sad, having a God like Odin as your step-father. Growing up I never did anything right.”

HE: “On that note, tell us about your childhood.”

LOKI: “What’s there to tell? I was always in trouble since my dickhead brother Thor is a cock-blocking douchebag. I got him back good by convincing Odin that his perfect son wasn’t worthy of living in Asgard so he kicked him out. Now I got the big bedroom.”

HE: “Holy crap! How did you manage that?”

LOKI: “Let’s just say I hid some of our Mother’s more “intimate apparel” in his sock drawer. You do the math.”

HE: “It seems pranking and lying started at an early age. Have any of your lies ever backfired on you?”

LOKI: *laughs maniacally* “No, but the truth sure has.”

HE: “Alright, you’ve GOT to elaborate on that.”

LOKI: “Well, my mouth gets me into trouble, you see. One Thanksgiving I got ripped on Jager and told my whole family off, including my two ex-wives. Every word I spoke was the truth, but it didn’t change the fact I had to transform into a fish and hide in a river to get away from them. Shoulda just stuck to lying.”

HE: “You are known world wide for your practical jokes and pranks. Which prank do you consider your masterpiece?”

LOKI: “Pranks change with the times. I had a blast fucking with the Druids by stacking a bunch of rocks for no reason and then there were those IT virgins who blew their wads worrying about Y2K. That one was a double bonus because it also got the Military’s panties in a bunch sweating random nuclear missile launches. But I’d have to say that the best has yet to come.”

HE: “Come on, give us a hint.”

LOKI: “Uh…I’ll just say to keep a watch out for December 21, 2012.”

HE: “Are all the pranks you do so grand or do you work on a more personal level with the public?”

LOKI: “At times I like to dabble in the everyday, like when one sock goes missing or when you ‘accidently’ hit Reply All on that email where you trash your boss. But remember, I still have to make a living. Right now I am the major shareholder in Pfizer, a pharmaceutical company that manufactures a little, blue pill.”

HE: “Are there any pranks you regret?”

LOKI: “Non-Alcoholic beer and Star Trek. Never thought anyone would take that shit seriously.”

HE: “What is the one thing you would like the world to know about Loki?”

LOKI: “That I am everywhere. I am a shape shifter, after all. That woman you meet in the bar that is too good to be true? She probably is. Just sayin’.”

Return April 20th  for our exclusive interview with The Easter Bunny!!!


Twisted Fictioneer Interview with Edward Hotspur

hotspur-t-shirt

hotspur-t-shirtIt’s time for another interview with a member of THE TWISTED FICTIONEERS, a group of authors who collaborate on charity writing projects such as ICONIC INTERVIEWS and F*CKED UP FAIRY TALES. Every Wednesday and Saturday we will feature an interview from a different author who has contributed to our writing ventures.

Since today is none other than Edward Hotspur’s birthday, I thought it fitting to feature his interview and get a glimpse into the mind of this blogger extraordinaire. For those of you out there who reside under rocks and who may not know, Edward Hotspur has written everything from a disenfranchised Tom Turkey to shameless Elf Erotica to all points and posts in between. His STORIES blog page alone is enough to keep a reader busy straight through to the Rapture. Luckily for us, we won’t have to wait that long to find out what makes the great EH tick. So raise your glasses and toast another year to:

EDWARD HOTSPUR

 

When did you know you wanted to be a writer?

When I could imagine.

Do you prefer to write in a specific genre and if so, why?

I would prefer to – however, my brain won’t let me, which is why I have a hard time finishing anything. I can write posts, but they are all over the place, as you can tell from my blog.

What techniques do you use when crafting your writing day to day that keeps you focused on the plot and storyline?

During successful writing times, I totally visualized the scene, and visualized myself as the main character in that scene, then just described what I saw and how I felt. Another technique is to take a real situation, and make it absurd. Sometimes in life you can do that without much tweaking.

Many readers will probably be offended by F*cked Up Fairy Tales and/or Iconic Interviews. What is your message behind the irreverence?

Mine was “OH MY GOD I’M WRITING FILTH!” – which I tried to disguise as ‘dirty and monogamous need not be mutually exclusive’, or ‘romance is extremely sexy’, or something… hey! Look over there!

What is the most challenging aspect of the mechanics of writing for you, and how do you overcome it?

I can write all day long in short bursts. I can hit publish. I can’t seem to edit for books, and that’s why I have enough stuff for 10 books, but only have basically one done, and that only electronically.

There is art and science involved in writing. What is your favorite aspect of writing in the context of its art?

Describing the scene. Freedom to create. Spaghetti on the wall technique.

Ten years from now, what are you writing?

Scenes From A Lear Jet? Scenes From A Tropical Island?

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 And now for a little something extra we bring you…

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TEN THINGS YOU NEVER KNEW ABOUT EDWARD HOTSPUR!

1. What would you consider to be your best personality trait?

Stubbornness. Persistence is an incredibly powerful tool, but….

2. What do you think is your worst personality trait?

Stubbornness. …when it crosses over into ‘going for the kill’, it can be bad.

3. You wake up Saturday morning and everyone has left you alone for the day. What do you do?

Things that I can’t do with a bunch of people in the house. Typically things that involve shutting off the water, the power, or both.

4. Name one person, living or dead, who you’d like to take to dinner:

Sidney Poitier. No, seriously, my wife. We rarely get that chance.

5. If you could choose a superpower, what would it be and why?

Hard to say. Time travel would be nice, but so would healing, speaking any language, or immortality.

6. If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?

Assuming that certain conditions existed, I’d live in Florida, and have houses in England and Japan.

7. Your favorite book/favorite meal/favorite sport:

Book – hard to say. Impossible. Meal – steak, because rare. Getting steak, not the condition of the steak. Sport – Child rearing. Wait, what?….. Oh, okay. Then I like hockey.

8. Your favorite movie/food/song that you secretly like but don’t want to admit:

There are no songs that I like that I wouldn’t admit to liking.

9. What job do you wish you had?

Writer, rock star, club owner, etc. Something fluid and creative, but that still requires structure.

10. Your favorite swear word:

“James Lipton.” Just kidding. It’s ‘fuck’, including all its variants.

 

FEATURED EDWARD HOTSPUR WORK:

TOM TURKEY

THE ELVES AND THE SHOEMAKER (The Passion of Suspiria and Mister Dead)

 

CLICK HERE TO WISH EDWARD HOTSPUR A HAPPY BIRTHDAY!


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!


Interview with Santa Claus – Part Two

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F*CKED UP FAIRY TALES IS HERE!

F*cked Up Fairy Tales
  • Has the stress of facing the holiday season alone got you down?
  • Are you dreading another Thanksgiving Day dinner defending your recreational life choices to your staunch Republican (insert Military Branch Rank of your choice here) Father?
  • Tired of being seated between your fighter pilot/Sunday school teacher/Abercombie & Finch model big brother and your half-dead Grandmother who smells like cheese?

WELL HAVE I GOT A SOLUTION FOR YOU!

From the warped and creative minds of the Blogosphere’s most talented writers comes a retelling of classic fables and fairy tales, each one more twisted than the last. F*CKED UP FAIRY TALES is the first of a two eBook novella series created by THE BLOGGER COLLECTIVE, a talented group of participating authors from around the Blogosphere. It’s childhood as you never remembered it. 

BUT WAIT…THERE’S MORE!

F*CKED UP FAIRY TALES  is guaranteed to make your brother come out of the closet while simultaneously giving Granny Limburger a moist-y.

F*CKED UP FAIRY TALES has been proven to increase penis size, get your car better gas mileage and give your ex-girlfriend a scorching case of rotten-crotch.

JOIN THE FUN! PICK UP YOUR VERY OWN eBook COPY OF F*CKED UP FAIRY TALES TODAY!

FUFTEBOOKCOVER


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


Eddie the Expatriate

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dWelcome to day five of BLOGSHORTS: a ten day, ten story, 110 word writing extravaganza.

Each participating blogger chooses a pooch a day from a list of dogs, thunk-up by our fearless leader BLOGDRAMEDY, and then writes a short story featuring their dog of choice.

Each story is 110 words in length and can feature as much or as little of our canine friend as we like.

Day five features a visit from everyone’s favorite proper pooch, Eddie. Or is he?

EDDIE THE EXPATRIATE

“You are one lucky mutt,” Rover said as he lounged back in his doggy bed. “Archon is the best master a dog could want. Warm beds, plenty of kibble; he even lets us chase Ladyryl’s cats around every Sunday. I’m telling ya, Eddie. This is the life.”

“Anything’s better than living with Frasier,” Eddie said. “Man was a fancyboy. Nothing but bottled water and vegan kibble. Even my bed was organic.”

“You’ll love this. Come here.” Rover led Eddie to his water dish and the two began to drink.

After a few laps Eddie’s eyes opened wide. “Oh my God, is that Molson?”

“Yes it is. Welcome to Canada, Eddie.”

Revisit these soon to be canine classics:

BLOGSHORTS DAY ONE: Tea Cup Cujo

BLOGSHORTS DAY TWO: Toto’s Ruby Red Booty

BLOGSHORTS DAY THREE: Lassie Learns the Truth

BLOGSHORTS DAY FOUR: Fluffy’s Fateful Faux Pas

TAKE YOUR BLOG FOR A WALK AND THROW THESE GUYS A BONE:

Blogdramedy

1pointperspective

SteveBetz 

Joe’s Musings

Jtailele’s Blog

MC’s Whispers

Shouts from the Abyss

Lenore Diane

Fix it or Deal

RETURN TOMORROW FOR A VISIT WITH THE ORIGINAL SNOOP DOG: SNOOPY!


Fluffy’s Fateful Faux Pas

fluffy-harry-potter-3-three-headed-dog-historys-famous-dog-ark-animal-centre

fluffy-harry-potter-3-three-headed-dog-historys-famous-dog-ark-animal-centreWelcome to day four of BLOGSHORTS: a ten day, ten story, 110 word writing extravaganza.

Each participating blogger chooses a pooch a day from a list of dogs, thunk-up by our fearless leader BLOGDRAMEDY, and then writes a short story featuring their dog of choice.

Each story is 110 words in length and can feature as much or as little of our canine friend as we like.

Today we travel beyond the land of Muggles to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to meet with our favorite three-headed dog, FLUFFY!

FLUFFY’S FATEFUL FAUX PAS

Fluffy tucked El Guapo’s speakers into his ears and for one blessed moment let the smooth, mellow sounds of Coltrane drown out the incessant bickering between his two ex-wives.

Fluffy often used his stolen quiet time to reflect on the course his life had taken. He dissected every decision and evaluated every consequence. He ran scenarios over and over again in his mind, asking himself what he might have done differently to have avoided the fate that had so tragically befallen him.

But no matter how many times he replayed that fateful day, Fluffy always came to the one sad, inevitable conclusion:

He should have never called He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, “Lord Moldywart.”

Revisit these soon to be canine classics:

BLOGSHORTS DAY ONE: Tea Cup Cujo

BLOGSHORTS DAY TWO: Toto’s Ruby Red Booty

BLOGSHORTS DAY THREE: Lassie Learns the Truth

TAKE YOUR BLOG FOR A WALK AND THROW THESE GUYS A BONE:

Blogdramedy

1pointperspective

SteveBetz 

Joe’s Musings

Jtailele’s Blog

MC’s Whispers

Shouts from the Abyss

Lenore Diane

Fix it or Deal

RETURN TOMORROW FOR A VISIT FROM EVERYONE’S FAVORITE PROPER POOCH, EDDIE!


Lassie Learns the Truth

thWelcome to day three of BLOGSHORTS: a ten day, ten story, 110 word writing extravaganza.

Each participating blogger chooses a pooch a day from a list of dogs, thunk-up by our fearless leader BLOGDRAMEDY, and then writes a short story featuring their dog of choice.

Each story is 110 words in length and can feature as much or as little of our canine friend as we like.

I will admit that I didn’t know who this dog was when I signed on to blog, so I was forced to look him (her) up first. Truth be told, I still don’t know what this show was all about. From what I can gather, there were a lot of children getting stuck places or falling into wells who needed rescuing. That fact prompted me to ask…just how fat are the children in this town, anyway??

Obese toddlers or not, I bring you:

LASSIE LEARNS THE TRUTH

“What are they calling me??” Lassie barked to Megan, a cute pug digging a hole alongside him.

“Lassie is a girl’s name,” Megan yapped back. “The producers want Timmy’s dog to be female. They want the audience to think she’s maternal.”

“A female?” Lassie growled, incredulous. “I’m no female and I can prove it. Look here.” Lassie curled his snout behind him to sniff at a couple of things he was sure were there.

But they weren’t. Not anymore.

Lassie collapsed into a heap on the ground. Megan nudged him with her snout and yapped, “It could be worse. You could be filming a peanut butter commercial with Ron Jeremy.”

Revisit these soon to be canine classics:

BLOGSHORTS DAY ONE: Tea Cup Cujo

BLOGSHORTS DAY TWO: Toto’s Ruby Red Booty

TAKE YOUR BLOG FOR A WALK AND THROW THESE GUYS A BONE:

Blogdramedy

1pointperspective

SteveBetz 

Joe’s Musings

Jtailele’s Blog

MC’s Whispers

Shouts from the Abyss

Lenore Diane

Fix it or Deal

RETURN TOMORROW AND JOIN US ON A TRIP TO HOGWARTS!


Toto’s Ruby Red Booty

TotoAndShoes_480x300_23Welcome to day two of BLOGSHORTS: a ten day, ten story, 110 word writing extravaganza.

Each participating blogger chooses a pooch a day from a list of dogs, thunk-up by our fearless leader BLOGDRAMEDY, and then writes a short story featuring their dog of choice.

Each story is 110 words in length and can feature as much or as little of our canine friend as we like.

Today’s offering features a famous pooch from Kansas and a blogger famous for…well, I probably shouldn’t say. So without further adieu I give you:

TOTO’S RUBY RED BOOTY

The Scarecrow ripped fistfuls of straw out from between his burlap ears, desperate to rid himself of Dorothy’s lifeless image burned into his brain.

Next to him, the Tin Man wept until his eyes rusted shut. He wished his new heart would do the same.

Only the Lion had courage enough to follow the trail of small, bloody paw prints down the yellow brick road.

Under a spell, Toto ran as fast as his paws would carry him, the Witch’s ruby red booty clamped tightly between his jaws.

Sparklebumps tossed her empty water bottle into a puddle that was once the Witch, slid on her best pair of pantyhose, and waited…

TAKE YOUR BLOG FOR A WALK AND THROW THESE GUYS A BONE:

Blogdramedy

1pointperspective

SteveBetz 

Joe’s Musings

Jtailele’s Blog

MC’s Whispers

Shouts from the Abyss

Lenore Diane

Fix it or Deal

RETURN TOMORROW TO SEE IF LASSIE RESCUES OUR FEATURED BLOGGER FROM THE WELL OF DOOM!


BLOGSHORTS: The Dog Days of Summer

Shih-Tzu

Shih-TzuThe legendary  BLOGDRAMEDY has come up with the perfect mental diversion she’s calling BLOGSHORTS: a ten day, ten story, 110 word canine-centric writing extravaganza.

How does that work, you wonder? Let’s ask Blogdramedy:

I’ve select nine dogs (a mixed breed of real and imaginary barkers) and you write a story of 110 words around each character. They can be the main participant or just bark in the background. That’s up to you.

I’m not going to write your stories for you no matter how much Gravy Train you put in my bowl.

The final story will feature a dog of your very own. It can be one you live with now, in the past, one you hope to own some day…or your imaginary puppy from when you were wee. The ten dogs are:

Cujo (Stephen King)

Toto (Wizard of oz)

Lassie

Fluffy (Harry Potter)

Eddie Crane (Fraser)

Snoopy

Frank (MIB)

Blacktoe (Will Riker’s dog)

Odie (Garfield)

The dog of your choice

Some of you may know that I am not particularly fond of dogs (if you’ve read REAPERS WITH ISSUES you know exactly how much), so being challenged to write about dogs is the perfect solution for my epic case of brain mud. In fact, I’ve already gotten started on an idea that I think about…TEN bloggers may get a kick out of. Sound like we’re barking up your tree? Sign up here and join these pups in this year’s BlogShorts.

RETURN TOMORROW FOR MY FIRST INSTALLMENT!

Throw these bloggers a bone by dropping by for a tour of their yards:

1pointperspective

SteveBetz 

Joe’s Musings

Jtailele’s Blog

MC’s Whispers

Shouts from the Abyss

Lenore Diane

Fix it or Deal


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 Flagulous!

Hold onto your garders people, because this next interviewee works red, white and blue. To commemorate the Fourth of July and a belated Flag Day we sit down with our nation’s favorite seamstress, the ever saucy Betsy Ross (Sparklebumps).

*** So tell me, Ms. Ross, what was it like being raised in a strict religious household?

As I was growing up, I never noticed that anything was amiss with regards to my religious upbringing. I was taught the ways of God and that to stray from them was a sin. It was until I met John that perhaps there was something more to life than praying and confession.

*** It seems you were quite the rebellious young woman. Tell us about your early love affair and your elopement with your husband, John.

I must point out, H.E., that I detest the word “rebellious”. I prefer the term “incorrigible.” No one has ever made me do something I didn’t want to do, and once I set my mind to do something, I do it, no matter what the reaction. That includes my elopement with John. My family was so upset I was excommunicated from our Quaker community. But every decision I made was worth it, because John was my one true love, and anyway, who could pass up the amazing honeymooning sex?

*** After John was killed in battle you went on to marry two more times which was nearly unheard of during the early 1700′s. How do you attribute your success in finding men?

I must be honest when I say that I’m not sure what it is that attracted all the men to me. I suppose my breasts may have had something to do with it, and my obnoxious need for love and affection…

*** I am going to quote Wikipedia here: “There is speculation that Betsy was the “beautiful young widow” who distracted Carl von Donop in Mount Holly, New Jersey, after the Battle of Iron Works Hill, thus keeping his forces out of the Battle of Trenton.” What was it like being so desirable that you potentially altered the future of a nation?

Women have been the cause for wars and the downfalls of countries for centuries. Just look at Helen of Troy. The main thing is to not let it go to your head.

*** Where did you get the idea for the design of the American Flag?

Well, I will let you in  on a little secret here. I’m into S&M a bit, and I was asked to design the flag right before I had a more than satifying… encounter. There was blood striping my freshly-washed white sheets, and that’s where the idea for the stripes came from. The stars I thought of because I tried to think of the most beautiful and sparkly thing I could think of to represent each state of glittery happiness our country had. Voila!

*** If you hadn’t made the flag, what would you like to have made instead?

If I hadn’t made the flag, I probably would have designed amazing satiny dresses for prostitutes, so as to give them a semblance of class.

*** What’s history’s biggest misconception about Betsy Ross?

The biggest misconception? ALL women who misbehave are misconceived. You know what they say- “Well-behaved women rarely make history.” I guarantee you wouldn’t be interviewing me if I had remained a Quaker. XOXO


Hellis In Bloggerland – Canadian Edition

We join Hellis on her journey into the Great White North of Bloggerland known as Canadia. Here she meets a crazy cast of Canuk characters who make her reconsider ever leaving home…

THE SALT WATER MOOSE AND THE FOUR MAINLANDERS

Archon peeked out from behind a tree. “Is it gone yet?”  he asked, terrified that he may still be in danger.  “Is what gone?” John Phillips asked as he listened to Canadian Rock classics on his iPod.  “The Salt Water Moose!, one of the locals said it was Salt Water Moose season, and that we should be careful walking in those woods.” added Archon’s Den.

As the two frightened tourists scampered out of the wooded area and onto the Trans-Canada Highway, they were almost run over by another speeding tourist, Harem’s Master. Harem wasn’t paying attention to the road. Rather, he was distracted by his latest bevy of middle east beauties, as he sped down the highway in the beat up van he rented from the local branch of Budget Rent a Car.  Harem swerved to miss them and ran right into…guess what…..a Salt Water Moose!

With that, many of the locals ran out into the highway, and using knives, axes and an assortment of other barbaric tools, they carved the meat from the moose, loaded the remaining carcass into their pickup truck, and took off quickly.

As the moose and his new owners left the scene, an RCMP highway patrol vehicle stopped to ask what was going on. He noticed the blood on the highway, and right away suspected foul play from the two terrified tourists. What’s your names guys, and what are you doing here?

Archon’s Den was the first to speak. “What in the hell are you talking about, you young fellow, you young cops just do not understand things. I worked all my life, and now being arrested by an aboriginal, East Indian, half Chinese, Half Pakistani cop? What sort of vacation is this turning out to be? Why I ever left the safe streets of Ontario to venture to Newfoundland I will never understand!” He grumbled.

“Your name, sir?” the cop repeated.

“None of your damn business what my name is, you tell me what a one part aboriginal, one part East Indian, Half Chinese, Half Pakistani cop is doing in Newfoundland and I will tell you my name!” Said Archon.

“Never mind me, I asked you a question, for that, get in my squad car, I am taking you in!” the one part aboriginal, one part East Indian, Half Chinese, Half Pakistani cop said. “And you get in too buddy” he said to Harem. Harem got in, still a bit nervous from the moose incident.

“What about my girls” Harem asked. “What will they do out here in the middle of nowhere?”

“We don’t have room for them, are they hurt?” The cop asked.

“They are alright, are they safe here” Harem asked, concerned. “They will be fine, this is Newfoundland after all.” said the cop.

John didn’t notice a whole lot, as he was captivated with the beautiful Newfoundland scenery, and he was tapping his toes to some authentic Canadian Rock music from the iPod.

“You get in too” the cop yelled at John. The three of them and the one part aboriginal, one part East Indian, Half Chinese, Half Pakistani cop sped toward the station, all of them terrified that another Salt Water Moose would suddenly appear.

When they got to the station, they were greeted by a friendly staff Sargent. “What are you boys in for?” he asked.  “We were running from a Salt Water moose, and all of a sudden a car hits him, a truck load of locals come over, take him in their truck and drive away, and your officer blames it all on us.” said Archon.

“Well, first let me inform you, there is no such thing as a Salt Water Moose. Whoever told you such a thing was pulling your leg.” The Sargent said. “Second of all, there is no law against moose hunting with your car, long as you don’t get yourself killed, so the officer had no right to charge you.” The cop apologized. “How about I make it up to you guys? My wife is cooking bbq for supper, if you would like to drop by.”

The three were starving from all the commotion, and they agreed. Harem said that he was hungry enough to eat a horse, and Archon said that he just needed a rest.

When they arrived at the cop’s house, they were greeted by the cop’s wife. “What in the fuck do we have here?” she asked. “Honey, what the fuck did you fucking bring home now?”  Archon and the others looked on, terrified at the woman’s attitude. “Don’t mind KayJai, she’s a Mainlander from Ontario”, the cop said. “You gotta watch the Mainlanders, they are a hard crowd to figure out, and please excuse her language, she tends to cuss a lot, but she is a real sweetheart once you gets to know her.” he added.

“It’s a good thing you came today, the neighbors have company over from Ontario as well, and they went and bagged road kill for supper!” KayJai said. “We are all invited over for a feed of Moose. They were out for a drive to show their friend around the island when they happened along a few Mainlanders who had witnessed a moose accident. The neighbors said that they were hollering something about Salt Water Moose or something.” she added.

When they got to the neighbor’s house, a very relieved Benzeknees met them at the gate. “My God, they found a moose on the highway and now they have it on the barbeque cooking it for supper…and we are all invited. What a kind crowd of people, it smells delicious!”

“Holy Fuck!, What a fucking horrible supper. Do they have any fucking thing else? I am fucking starved, but I am not eating fucking moose that was killed on the fucking highway,” KayJai said.

The owner of the house, SightsnBytes came out to see what was going on. “Guys, if you don’t want moose, we can order takeout, just everyone get along please.”

With that, everyone sat and had a wonderful supper, followed by a fire in the backyard firepit, lots of beer (not pine beer though) and authentic Newfoundland music blasting through the speakers in the yard.

*** Thanks to my good friend Ted from Sightsnbytes for this latest take on Hellis in Bloggerland. ***


Hellis In Bloggerland

Just when I thought I’d said it all, El Guapo says it better. I give you my screenplay as seen through a very handsome lens:

THE ADVENTURES OF HELLIS IN BLOGGERLAND

Judging from the actors, your movie is a rom-com-buddy cop movie, with Edward Hotspur as the alien no one understands. Hilarity ensues as Edward, separated from the mother ship, is lost and adrift in dark foreboding Canadia. Kayjai, president of Canadia, takes pity on him and drives him (in a fast car, and apparently very few clothes) southeast to the wilds of New England, where for some reason, his gadgets are telling him to go.

Trask Avenue, a member of Canadia’s equivalent of the CIA (the dreaded MSF – Moose Syrup Fanatics), follows in hot pursuit. At the border, bored Border Guard, El Guapo, decides to leave his job and accompany the two star-crossed travellers on their journey. At one point, he distracts Trask from his pursuit while Kayjai and Hotspur escape. He is last seen (until the finale) telling a confused Trask (who has just arrested him) “Hey, if you can’t beat em, confuse em!”

Our story continues through the wilds of Nebraska and Ohio. They stop off at an empty diner, run by BestBathroomBooks for some food. He dispenses wit and wisdom along with hot coffee and huevos rancheros. They continue on their drive, stopping at an Ohio crossing to let the freight train pass. A badass in a mustang pulls up, none other than GingerSnaap. Hotspur reminds her of the frog who done her wrong (no, really, an actual frog) all those years ago, and there is a spectacular heart stopping chase through the cornfields (are there cornfields in Ohio?) of Ohio.

Kayjai and Hotspur manage to escape, heading east toward the dawning of a new day. They are exhausted and pull over to rest. While sleeping, Kayjai is visited by Sandylikeabeach, who sums up what has already happened, and hints about what may happen next – but she does it all in one long sentence that even includes her trademarked asides. And it’s all in Charo’s voice!!! (Seriously, this is my favorite scene of the movie!)

As they come out of the wilds and into the bigger cities, Trask Avenue is closing in. But Hotspur uses his magic to convince unbelievably sexy companions Sparklebumps and Megan that he is the good guy. They use their not inconsiderable wiles to slow down Trask while Kayjai and Hotspur escape.

Finally, closing in on the snow filled bus lots of New England, the two stop at the tire yard, and ask a shirtless, sweaty HR Nightmare (wearing a green shoulder mounted bikini thong)(because that’s how he rolls) where they can find the magic moose of Massachusetts – which is the only thing that can save Hotspur now.

(Sorry – earths environment is slowly killing Hotspur. What? I’m sitting at my desk writing this thing, cut me some slack. We good? Ok, moving on.)

HR points down a snow filled trail. Kayjai slowly eases the car down the path. We see Trask (in his gov’t issue Crown Victoria) speeding toward them. In the back seat, El Guapo rises, swinging a ski pole at the back of Trasks head. Trask yanks the wheel and Guapo flies out of the car, landing on a plank and, with a “WOOHOO” snowboards into the distance.

But while Trask was distracted, a blue Charger comes rocketing along the road. “SHINY!!!” bellows GingerSnaap, as she races along, bumping mercilessly into Trask in an attempt to drive him off the road. BestBathroomBooks, in the car with her, calmly calls out reasons to Trask why he should surrender. Trask grits his teeth and continues pounding down the road.

Into a clearing.

Where Sparklebumps, Sandylikeabeach and Megan all dance gracefully on an empty patch of land.

A bright light suddenly engulfs the beautiful ladies as Kayjai and Hotspur glide to a halt, Trask pulling up behind them. Arms spread, Hotspur steps into the circle of light, as Trask raises his gun. Sparklebumps flashes him to distract him, but surprisingly, that only works for a moment. Hotspur turns, and in the language of his people, yells “Unicorn! Palindrome lyric poem! Innuendo!”
Trasks weapon flies from his hand, and bewildered, he, with everyone else, watch the circle of bright light condense into a pinpoint beam of rainbow as Hotspur floats gently up to the mothership.

Kayjai strolls over to Trask. “For fucks sake.” she says.
Trask raises an eyebrow.

FADE

Apologies to everyone slandered in this, and if you’ve made it this far, next round is on me. Really, you earned it.


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.


F*CKED UP FAIRY TALES Update!

Fairy Tales

For a larger image – click at your own risk

Hellis here, taking a quick break from the grind to remind you it’s almost time for the release of the Blogger Compilation Project, F*CKED UP FAIRY TALES! If you’ve signed on to contribute please submit your story as soon as possible. The moment I have all contributions in I’ll release your book! All contributions should be sent to heellisgoa (at) gmail (dot) com

Our two newest contributions are offered by the sweet but sassy Sandylikeabeach as well as the never bland VanillaMom. Check these two ladies out for some inspiration for your own Fairy Tale!

For more of the Blogger Compilation Project read the novella,

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.

 


A Tiny Thumbelina Tale

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imagesPinch me because I must be dreaming. Today we have another amazing addition to the Blogger Compilation Project better known as F*CKED UP FAIRY TALES (I know, I know, the asterisk fools no one, but I’m trying to class my blog up, okay?)

Anyway, this little bit o’ tome comes from none other than our very own Beach Bunny Sandy Floyd, better known to Blogworld as Sandylikeabeach. Her take on the classic Thumbelina is as witty, clever and brilliant as this tiny writing powerhouse is herself. Please to enjoy, A TINY THUMBELINA TALE.

 

by Sandy Floyd 

It was a dark and stormy night. Not really, but I always wanted to start the story of my life with that line. I have no idea if it was a dark and stormy night on the night of my birth or if I was even born at night. I was just a baby so I have no clear memories of the event. I’m not even sure I should start at the beginning. So let’s begin again.

I’m special. Well, as special as a person can be in a world populated by people, each one thinking he or she is special. Of course, if we’re all special, then special isn’t really special. It’s ordinary. It is the normal order of things. But I’m the Abby Normal of ordinary though my name isn’t Abby.

I wish it was Abby. Christ! I got stuck with an awful name. I swear to God, if there is one, that if I ever have children I will not stick them with some cutesy or super esoteric or just plain fucking weird name. And the lovely name that was bestowed on me? Thumbelina. What the fuck? Who names a kid Thumbelina? What the hell is a Thumbelina? I loathed my name. I shortened it to Tina. However, there was always that one teacher who insisted on calling every child by his or her proper name, no nicknames allowed. And of course, the first day of school each year my embarrassing name would be called out and I would have to acknowledge it and then say, “But I just go by Tina.” Then the more compassionate teachers would make a note on their rosters but the damage was done. The more obnoxious poets among my class liked to chant “Tiny Tina, Thumbelina” whenever I happened by.

Of course, even without the embarrassing weird name, I still would have been teased because of the tiny thing. Just as it’s not easy being green, it’s not easy being tiny and tiny is what I am though I’m not green and tiny, just tiny. Though now that I think about it, if green is the color of your species, then how hard can it be to be green? And if tiny is the size of your species, then being tiny wouldn’t be hard either, but tiny is not the size of my species so being tiny is not easy except that it is easy to be overlooked and easy to be treated like a child and easy to be thought of as younger than you really are which will be nice when I get older.

I am a very small person though not dwarf small, and unlike most dwarfs, I am exquisitely proportioned. But if other people didn’t feel compelled to state the obvious by telling me how small I am, I would rarely think about my lack of height unless I needed to get something off the top shelf at the grocery store. Of course, I’m sure one of the functions of the lowest shelf is to serve as a step for those of us who are vertically challenged to reach the stuff we need that is always on the top shelf. And I will admit to always being surprised when I catch a glimpse of myself in a mirror or some sort of reflective surface standing next to a normal sized person. Honest to God, again, if there is one, I look like a miniature person.

So despite all my name loathing during my formative years living on a farm with my foster mother after being abandoned as an infant with a note pleading for someone to take care of “our little Thumbelina” thus dooming me to a lifetime of name loathing and forever linking me to a shadowy group of people with weird names, my feelings about my name took a somewhat nuanced turn. Translation: I figured out how to cash in.

Upon my successful completion of high school, I knew college was a financial impossibility. I also knew that I did not want to spend the best years of my life waiting on people be it as a waitress or a retail worker. Cubicle life sounded no better. So having no moral compass, or any compass at all, I decided to put my decidedly good looks, flexibility and passion for my passion to good use. I became a tiny stripper and Thumbelina was my tiny stripper name even though that name is not tiny and doesn’t often, or possibly ever, come up in that internet what is your stripper name thing. But I was dancing and dancing made me happy. It also made me money.

Now some people might think stripping is demeaning and they have valid arguments and indeed, I would agree it is demeaning if the stripping is involuntary. However, if stripping is a personal choice, there is power in that choice. And pardon the obvious use of the word, but stripped of its moral questions, at its heart, it is art expressed in a very specific form of dance. The best strippers embrace this. I know I did, and I was one of the best. I even won the International Pole Dance Championship a couple of years ago. Though to be fair, Miss Australia probably would have won if she hadn’t had that embarrassingly awkward slide down the pole. A little lube goes a long way.

You might not think that a strip club would be the best place to meet the love of your life and before it happened to me, I would have agreed with you, but then it happened to me though the actual meeting thing took place in a coffee shop across the street from the club, but that first sighting was in the club. He was part of a bachelor party though not the part that was The Bachelor. He was just one of The Bachelor’s buddies helping The Bachelor celebrate one of his last nights of bachelorhood.

He didn’t look like the usual regulars, but boy, did he look good. He had this tall, dark and handsome bad boy with the scruffy beard thing going on even though he wasn’t particularly tall or dark, but he was definitely handsome. And he had that scruffy beard thing which looks great on a male model, though male might be redundant because no one ever thinks a scruffy beard would look good on a female model, but I’m not typically a fan of the scruffy facial hair decision. It’s not even a decision. It’s a mark of indecision. Make a choice, already. Grow a beard or shave, but damn, it looked good on him.

I could have looked at him all night. I didn’t, because I also wanted my usual haul of tips and it’s not just the dancing that does the trick, you have to make eye contact and smile at everyone to make the most tips. But I did glance his way every now and then, and each time, he was looking at me, but not in the way the usual strip club attendee does. When our eyes would meet, he smiled ever so slightly. It was warm and sweet and it felt like we were the only two people in the room.

After my shift that night, a couple of the other dancers and I headed to the coffee shop for our usual after work confab. We settled in a booth and that’s when I noticed him. He was at the counter and he was alone. I’ve never been a big fan of fate, but fate might be a fan of me, because as fate would have it, Amber’s phone rang.

“Ugh, that was the sitter,” she said as she returned her phone to her handbag. “I’ve got to get home.”

“Nothing serious, I hope.”

“No. Jason has a touch of a fever so I need to get home. See you later, TIna.”

“You going, too?” I asked Nina.

“Yeah, she’s my ride tonight. Good night, TIna.”

“Bye NIna, bye Amber. Hope Jason’s feeling better soon.”

The girls had no sooner walked out the door when the scruffy beard guy appeared at my table.

“Mind if I join you? I’ve never been a fan of eating alone.” His voice was like velvet – soft and smooth. A voice that could be on the radio, maybe a classic rock station or maybe even smooth jazz although much of what smooth jazz stations play isn’t even jazz, it’s more yesterday’s pop and soft rock.

“Um,” I hesitated because it’s usually not a good idea to get involved with customers, but he was good looking and he smelled good, or maybe that was the bacon cooking in the kitchen, but he looked and seemed to smell good enough to eat and I was hungry.

“It’s just a little food and conversation,” he said. And then he smiled.

“Yeah, company would be great.” I smiled back.

He slid into the booth across from me and smiled that smile. “I’m Cooper.”

I wasn’t sure if Cooper was his first name or last name, so I asked. My foster mom always told me I shouldn’t ask too many personal questions too soon, but how else do you find out stuff that you’d be wondering about and all that wondering would keep you from being able to concentrate on the conversation. And I was going to need all the help with concentration because I wasn’t really thinking about having a conversation with him, if you catch my drift.

“It’s my first name. It’s a little unusual but I like it.”

“It’s a great name. I’m..”

“Thumbelina. The tiny dancer.”

“I go by TIna.”

“How’d you come up with Thumbelina for a stage name?”

“It’s my real name. And you thought Cooper was unusual.”

He laughed and his laugh was even better than his smile. “Well, I think Thumbelina is a beautiful name. It rhymes with ballerina and you are an exquisitely beautiful dancer.”

He had me at ‘exquisitely,’ or maybe he had me at ‘mind if I join you.’ It doesn’t really matter when he had me, much like it doesn’t matter when the heart finds love, only that it does and mine did that night. We talked for hours or it seemed that way. At last, we noticed the night was easing into dawn and we made our way to the parking lot. He asked me where I was parked and I pointed to my car.

“I’m right next to you,” he said.

“That’s your bike? It’s gorgeous.” Though I didn’t add ‘just like you,’ but I was thinking it.

“Yeah, you like bikes?”

“I’ve never been on one but it looks like fun.”

“It’s just about the most fun you can have with your clothes on.”

“I always thought that about dancing, but of course, I don’t always keep my clothes on for that.”

He laughed. “Here’s my number. Call me and we’ll go for a ride. And you can keep your clothes on the whole time.”

I smiled at him and climbed in my car. “It was nice meeting you, Cooper.”

“See you soon, tiny dancer.”

A few days later I had my first bike ride. I climbed on the bike behind him and as I wrapped my arms around his waist I said, “I think this is going to be the best part of the ride.”

He laughed. “Not by a long shot. Hang on.”

And off we went. He was partially right. Holding on to him wasn’t the best part, but it wasn’t the best part by a long shot. It was a very close second. The ride was exhilarating. Sitting behind him, looking over his shoulder, the wind in my face was a great feeling. We spent the afternoon on country roads, stopping here and there to admire the scenery or grab a bite to eat.

It was just like one of those Hollywood movie montages the writers employ because they suck at writing dialogue. And it did feel like one of those too good to be true but wouldn’t it be lovely if it could happen to me Hollywood scenarios right up until it turned into a killer zombie movie but without the killer zombies, but Killer Bees instead. But not African killer bees, but the biker gang. I know it sounds like a silly name, but the backs of their jackets have this evil looking killer bee and they used a sinister typeface for the name, so it doesn’t just sound silly, it looks silly, too. But I kept my silly thoughts to myself.

We ran into the Killer Bees at Roady Toadies, a little dive bar on the outskirts of town. Of course, we didn’t know the bikes we saw outside meant there were Killer Bees inside. In fact, Cooper said he recognized one of the bikes as belonging to a friend of his. We walked inside and let our eyes adjust to the light after being in the bright sun. Cooper spotted his friend and we headed over to where he was sitting.

“Jack, this is Thumbelina. Thumbelina, this is my good friend, Jack Sparrow.”

“Like the Johnny Depp character?”

“No,” Jack said. “I had the name first but I like to think he got his character’s inspiration from me.”

Cooper laughed and said, “I think he got the inspiration from Keith Richards.”

I smiled at Jack. “Nice to meet you, Jack.”

“Likewise. Thumbelina, huh? That’s not a name you hear everyday.”

“No, it’s not,” I replied, except that I was hearing it more today then I usually do and right about then, a loud voice behind me bellowed my name again.

“Thumbelina! I’d recognize that ass anywhere even covered in jeans.”

I turned around and there was the biggest Killer Bee I had ever seen. Of course, it was the first Killer Bee I had ever seen so thinking it was the biggest one ever was a big mistake. Behind the loudmouth Killer Bee, were more Killer Bees and they were even bigger than Mr. Bigmouth which was how I was coming to think of him. Mr. Bigmouth didn’t look familiar and I had never seen men attired in Killer Bee attire in the Pussycats club. But he was looking at me, the way hungry men look at a grilled steak.

And before I could reply, Mr. Bigmouth looked around at his buddies and said, “Boys, this is your lucky day. We have a celebrity in our midst. This here itty bitty thing is Thumbelina, stripper extraordinaire!” Then he looked at me and said, “I watch your World Pole Dance routine on YouTube all the time.” He glanced at Cooper and added, “She won the championship a couple of years ago. You know that?”

“No, I didn’t, but I can’t say I’m surprised. She is quite extraordinary.”

If I hadn’t already fallen in love with Cooper, I would have right then especially since he didn’t know about how Miss Australia should have won except for that embarrassing slip or in her case, slide down the pole.

But Mr. Bigmouth wasn’t done. “Why don’t you dance for us Thumbelina? Just climb right up on the bar and show us what you got.”

“You can see me dance at Pussycats,” I replied in an even tone.

“I want to see you dance right now!”

Cooper stepped between us, “Leave the lady alone.”

“She ain’t no lady.”

And then Cooper slugged Mr. Bigmouth.

“I’m not a fan of double negatives either, but I usually refrain from hitting the illiterate,” I said to him.

“I would have slugged him even if he was grammatically correct. No one gets away with saying you’re not a lady.”

But before we could congratulate ourselves on just how clever our repartee was becoming, all hell broke loose. It was the three of us, okay two of us because I’m not much good in a fight and I’m really tiny, against all those Killer Bees. Fists were flying, glass was breaking and I was ducking. I could feel strong arms around me pulling me backwards and then everything went dark.

I wasn’t unconscious, just locked in a closet. I banged on the door, but I guess Cooper couldn’t hear me over all the noise of the fight and last I saw, he and Jack seemed to be on the losing end. After what seemed like an hour but was probably much shorter because everything seems to take longer when you’re locked inside a closet, I heard what sounded like a gunshot. My heart stopped, but not because I got shot but because I was afraid of who might have. I could hear voices but I couldn’t make out what was being said or who was talking. Then it got quiet again, so I started banging on the door and screaming to be let out.

The door opened and a rather mousey looking woman was standing there.

“It’s all right, dear. Toadie put you in there. He thought you’d be safer in there.” She smiled at me and there was kindness in her eyes.

“Toadie is a real person?” I couldn’t believe how many people had parents that made such bad choices when naming their kids.

The mousey woman laughed. “Oh, he’s real all right, but Toadie is a nick name he picked up when he was a roadie for Z Z Top back in the day. I’m Mrs. Fields, Toadie’s mother. I help out in the kitchen.”

I refrained from asking her for a chocolate chip cookie and instead asked about my friends.

“Well, they’re a little banged up, but no permanent damage. Come and see for yourself.”

She led me through the kitchen and into the bar. I spotted Toadie right away because he looked like a toad, kind of like how that senator looks like a turtle. Toadie was holding a shotgun but when he saw me, he smiled and said, “Sorry to stick you in the closet like that, but a bar fight is no place for such a pretty little lady.”

“No worries, Toadie. Thanks for looking out for me.” I was looking around for Cooper and Jack. “Where are my friends?”

“They’re in the john cleaning themselves up. Those Killer Bees did a number on them, but as badass as they think they are when you point a shotgun in their general direction and let it discharge, they run away like little girls.”

I laughed. Then I heard a noise behind me.

“She does have an incredible ass, Coop.”

I turned around and flew into Cooper’s arms. “Everything about her is incredible,” Cooper replied.

“I think I’m in love,” I sighed.

He smiled at me, “I know I am.”

Jack said his goodbyes and left the bar. Cooper looked at me, “Ready to ride off into the sunset to that happily ever after place?”

“I’ve always wanted to do that. Especially if that place has a bed big enough for two.”

He held my hand as we walked out of the bar. We climbed on his bike and he looked back at me.

“Too bad it’s midnight,” he said.

“Midnight will do.”


Earth Day Interview With Gaia

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Which God was the best in the sack?

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

How does it feel to be the original MILF?

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

What does Earth’s future hold for mankind?

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

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


I Prank You Not

In recognition of April Fool’s Day I scored a rare opportunity to sit down with the God of Mischief, Loki.

HE: “Hello Loki. Thank you for taking time out of your busy day to speak with me and my readers.”

LOKI: “Hi.”

HE: “Uh, that’s it? ‘Hi?’”

LOKI: “Well, I’ve got a lot on my plate. You do realize what day this is, right? Nice fucking time management there, Chickie.”

HE: *looking at the calendar* “Well, since it’s April Fool’s Day I am going to assume you are joking.”

LOKI: “You would think so, wouldn’t you?”

HE: “I am guessing that April Fool’s Day is the busiest day of the year for you.”

LOKI: “No, that’d be Valentine’s Day. People say a lot of shit they don’t mean which makes for a lot of lies to distribute. Especially to the men folk.”

HE: “That’s just sad.”

LOKI: “I’ll tell you what’s sad, having a God like Odin as your step-father. Growing up I never did anything right.”

HE: “On that note, tell us about your childhood.”

LOKI: “What’s there to tell? I was always in trouble since my dickhead brother Thor is a cock-blocking douchebag. I got him back good by convincing Odin that his perfect son wasn’t worthy of living in Asgard so he kicked him out. Now I got the big bedroom.”

HE: “Holy crap! How did you manage that?”

LOKI: “Let’s just say I hid some of our Mother’s more “intimate apparel” in his sock drawer. You do the math.”

HE: “It seems pranking and lying started at an early age. Have any of your lies ever backfired on you?”

LOKI: *laughs maniacally* “No, but the truth sure has.”

HE: “Alright, you’ve GOT to elaborate on that.”

LOKI: “Well, my mouth gets me into trouble, you see. One Thanksgiving I got ripped on Jager and told my whole family off, including my two ex-wives. Every word I spoke was the truth, but it didn’t change the fact I had to transform into a fish and hide in a river to get away from them. Shoulda just stuck to lying.”

HE: “You are known world wide for your practical jokes and pranks. Which prank do you consider your masterpiece?”

LOKI: “Pranks change with the times. I had a blast fucking with the Druids by stacking a bunch of rocks for no reason and then there were those IT virgins who blew their wads worrying about Y2K. That one was a double bonus because it also got the Military’s panties in a bunch sweating random nuclear missile launches. But I’d have to say that the best has yet to come.”

HE: “Come on, give us a hint.”

LOKI: “Uh…I’ll just say to keep a watch out for December 21, 2012.”

HE: “Are all the pranks you do so grand or do you work on a more personal level with the public?”

LOKI: “At times I like to dabble in the everyday, like when one sock goes missing or when you ‘accidently’ hit Reply All on that email where you trash your boss. But remember, I still have to make a living. Right now I am the major shareholder in Pfizer, a pharmaceutical company that manufactures a little, blue pill.”

HE: “Are there any pranks you regret?”

LOKI: “Non-Alcoholic beer and Star Trek. Never thought anyone would take that shit seriously.”

HE: “What is the one thing you would like the world to know about Loki?”

LOKI: “That I am everywhere. I am a shape shifter, after all. That woman you meet in the bar that is too good to be true? She probably is. Just sayin’.”

Return April 7th  for our exclusive interview with The Easter Bunny!!!


It’s the Easter Bunn–uh…Wallaby?

Spring has finally sprung, and with it our interview with everyone’s childhood favorite, the Easter Bunny.

Determined to get an interview with this elusive holiday icon, I cornered him in his underground den and discovered something I’d not expected. I open today’s interview with the question that should have been asked ages ago:

HE: Say…you aren’t really a bunny, are you?

EB: Well Maybe it is time to come clean, if you wanna call me a Bunny go ahead but being a Bunny is not very useful when you deliver eggs is it! I am a Wallaby, you see, I can put all the eggs in my pouch and then I don’t have to go back and forth with my basket. I am all about convenience, you know what I mean.

HE: What made you decide to color and hide eggs?

EB: Shots. In my College years (I did not do much studying) my friends and I enjoyed colorful shots. So I now pick colors by having a shot, coloring an egg, different coloured shot, and different colored eggs. The hiding part is a long story about my friend and his … well it’s a long story.


HE: How do you feel about children eating chocolate likenesses of you?

EB: As we have just been through, I am not a Bunny, never will be because it will never be practical! So the Kiddywinks can eat as many chocolate bunnies as they please.                        


HE: How do you feel about sharing a holiday with Jesus?

EB: My mum once told me that story, I did not really understand it, and I mean it’s a bit gloomy for a Holiday all about the Kids, you know? Plus to me, chocolate crosses would be awful to make and color, all that blood and gore is for Halloween, not my holiday.


HE: Is there more than one Easter Bunny?
EB: If you call me a Bunny one more time, you will be getting nothing! And no, I am the one and the only, mostly because nobody likes the low pay and low hours. I wish sometimes that I had maybe an Easter Camel, so I could pack even more eggs or a Donkey, Donkeys can carry a lot of stuff, even pregnant women I have heard.


HE: Did you want to be an Easter Bunny when you were a kid…uh, a joey?

EB: No, as I have said I went to College, I just didn’t do well, this was my fall back, I wanted to be a Football Mascot but I do not think there is much call for a Wallaby, maybe if I was a Dolphin or A Ram! I mean have you ever heard of a Wallaby before today?! Do you even know what I look like?!


HE: What do you do when you aren’t hiding eggs?

EB: Nothing, I drink, I try and think of new ideas for next year but with 5 joeys at home and one on the way, thinking does not happen a lot.

Thank you, Easter Bun–Wallaby, for this timely and insightful interview. Return April 22nd as we celebrate Earth Day with none other that Gaia herself!


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