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Posts tagged “writing skills

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!


It’s….CUPID!!!

As Valentine’s Day approaches I thought it only appropriate to interview the most wanted man, uh…boy in the world. I’m talking about the one, the only….CUPID.

CUPID – Pleasure to be here. Despite this being my busy time of year, I can always find time for you H.E., you helped my blog become what it is today and for that my heart is ever at your service…..You know, if you wanted I could set you up with somebody? I still feel bad about your last relationship. In my defense though, you were the one who fucked that up. Cupid’s arrow is rarely wrong and sometimes you got to give a little to get a little if you know what I mean….

***** So tell the readers, what is the hardest part being the God of Desire?

CUPID – The hardest part? My cock.

* silence *

Nah, I’m just fucking with you. Nothing like a little dirty humor to lighten the mood. Seriously though, the hardest part has got to be humanity. Fifty years ago this would not have been my answer, I mean, fifty years ago people knew how to make a commitment to one another. Now everyone is so needy and expects so much from the person they are with, no one knows how to stay in anything longer than a few years. Its sad really. I blame the hippie generation for this. All that free love fucked up real love for the rest of you. Well, that and women’s lib. Give me the days where I just shot a guy with love and never had to worry about what the woman wanted, because if she didn’t go with the guy I shot then he would just take her. It sounds bad but god-damn it made my job easier.

***** What’s with the bow and arrow?

CUPID – Are you serious? They’re fucking magic, that’s what! It brings forth love and happiness and shit to all that the arrows pierce….Whats with the….Look, if you find a magic shotgun for sale then I’ll buy it, but since there is no such thing, I’ll stick to my bow and arrow thank you very much..

***** How does love in the twenty-first century differ from say, the Renaissance period?

CUPID – Two words, E- Harmony. Them and all those other find love web sites that have popped up since the internet began. Back in the good ole days you didn’t have to fill out a twenty questions exam to get shacked up with somebody, you trusted my arrow to make the right connection. Now though, since these computer cupids have shown up, love is down, STDs are up and the murder rate in Juarez, Mexico has skyrocketed.

That last one has nothing to do with what we are talking about, I just got done reading a book about Juarez and that crap just keeps slipping out, sorry. You get my…..shit….what was my point…….Oh yeah, the Renaissance! It was different.

***** Have you ever missed an intended target? 

CUPID(long pause) On the record, no. Off the record, fuck yeah.

Look, it’s not easy, this job I mean. Its a ton of pressure for one God,you people are so fucking needy, especially you women. From now on, why not just say what it is you’re really looking for in a guy. First off, sense of humor is not that fucking important to you, so stop saying it first. It would make my job and your connection to your true love so much easier to make.That being said, I’ve fucked up here and there throughout time….Do I regret doing it? No, I rack it up to learning experiences…….I do feel bad about Whitney Houston though, I never should have introduced her to Bobby. That was my bad and for that I apologize.

Otherwise, mistakes or no mistakes, once that arrow hits you it’s no longer my problem. Love can happen anywhere, but I can only do so much, it’s up to you to make it work. Here’s an example, that teacher that slept with her student a few years back. You remember, right? She slept with him, got pregnant, got busted, got fired, got jail time, had the baby, got out of jail and then, got back together with him. That’s dedication people. It’s also a tale of love through the toughest of obstacles. What she did was wrong, there’s no doubt about it, I messed that one up, but in the end the love prevailed. All you humans see are the bad things in the people that I hook you up with, somehow you stop seeing the good after being with someone awhile. I never understood this, because the second you break it off, suddenly all you remember are the good qualities, the things that were always there but you would look past. Everyone fights, everyone has issues, it’s up to you to work past them and make it last. Not me.

***** Mythology tells us you inherited this job from your mother, Venus. Tell me, how did it feel growing up with the original MILF as your mom?

CUPID- My mother only talked to me when she wanted something from me. She is a vain, manipulative, alcoholic and I hated growing up with her as a mom. Did you ever see the movie Mommy Dearest? Imagine that but in God form, that’s how my childhood was. I’ve got so many issues because of her I had to cancel my subscription. We haven’t seen each other in years.

***** The identity of your father has never been made public, although Mars has been a popular suspect throughout history. How true are the rumors that you are scheduled to appear on an episode of THE MAURY POVICH SHOW with the intent to confront him with a paternity test?

CUPID- What? Where did you hear that? Of course it’s not true! There’s no need. I found out years ago who my real father was and it certainly wasn’t Mars. No, no, my father lives in Florida, his name is Dale Gibbons and he’s a retired nightclub owner from Miami. Cool guy actually.

***** Was it difficult growing up as an obese child with obvious bladder control problems?

CUPID – All those paintings and sculptures were taken when I was going through a growth stage of my life. Look at me now! Fit, tan and with 12 pack abs. Do I look anything like those pictures? No. I worked hard to get past those looks. Jenny Craig helped of course, but it was mostly me and my dedication to get fit that did it.

And as far as the bladder control goes, I don’t know where that got started. I never wore a diaper, I always went in the nude back then. Censorship is a bitch. Some people can’t handle the male nude form so you got to cover it up, that’s where the diaper comes in.

***** Fill us in on your unfortunate accident where you accidentally shot yourself and fell in love with Psyche?

CUPID – You’re getting these questions from Wikipedia, right? See, that’s why you don’t trust a user controlled reference site, they get it all wrong usually. Okay, you want the real story between me and Psyche? Here goes…

My mom comes to me one day complaining about this chick, saying she’s taking all her worshipers and shit. So mom asks me to go over to this girls place and make her fall in love with the most vile thing I could think of. High as a kite and pissed off because I was in the middle of a game when I was summoned, Saints Row 3 I think, we get all the games before humans do, its one of the perks of being a God, I grabbed my bow and arrows and flew over to her house.

As I’m sneaking into her room I’m trying my best to be extra quiet, but you know how when you’re trying to be quiet every sound is amplified, like, a thousand times? Well that’s what was happening in that room. Every step seemed to cascade through the whole house, and me being high certainly didn’t help.

Finally I get real close to her and start to pull out an arrow, as I’m doing this, her little Min Pin comes running up, yapping the whole way. It scared the shit out of me and I dropped the arrow. I hated that dog. Twinkles was his name. Can you believe that? The dog was totally gay too, he used to try and hump one of the guards dogs, a big German Shepard named KrissKross, it was hilarious.

Anyway, I dropped my arrow and it scraped her foot. Not me like Wikipedia would have you believe, but hers. She wakes up, bing, bang, boom, she sees me, falls in love and hasn’t left me alone since.

In the beginning it was cool. I would sneak over for some late night tail and scurry off again, but after a while it started to get a little stale. I think she saw how I was feeling and figured that the only way to keep me around was to get pregnant.  When I found out I was pissed! I totally wasn’t ready to be a dad, I’m still not but it is what it is. In the end we are all responsible for our actions and so I had a kid with her. If you’re looking for morals that’s about as good as it gets. Wrap that shit unless you want a world of shit. Either that or stick to stickin’ the back door, if you get my drift.

***** So, is the God of Desire dating anyone at the moment?

CUPID – Jen Aniston. Six months now. It’s nice I guess.

 


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

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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.


Death Comes to New England

Newbury Comics

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, Grim has arrived. The graphic novel empire known as Newbury Comics has graciously agreed to take a chance on everyone’s favorite Reaper by offering a spot for his book on its illustrious shelves.

For those of you who may not know, Newbury Comics is New England’s premiere comic/graphic novel/punk/new wave/indie music vendor. Considered Mecca to the pop-culture obsessed, I couldn’t imagine a better fit for a novella series as potentially off-putting as REAPERS WITH ISSUES.

Now, if I could just finish Book Two…

 

CLICK THE PIC FOR STORE LOCATIONS

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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.


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.


REVIEW: Harem Master

HAREM MASTER  by R.B. Hatch

When I first chose to review HAREM MASTER I was concerned I’d find nothing more than a glorified Penthouse Forum article. Yes, it does involve a middle-aged man who is “entertained” by a self-appointed harem of females ranging from employees to contemporaries to nymphets. And yes, it is at times raunchy and raw and sexually charged. But R.B. Hatch’s development of the narrator, a man simply known as “John,” is well written and highly entertaining.

As a reader I found myself simultaneously repulsed by and sympathetic toward John’s actions that form the relationship between him and his “harem.” In “John” Hatch has created an “everyman” whose wit, intelligence and sense of mystery utterly charm the women around him into willingly becoming his objects of desire. It’s Hatch’s ability to endear John to the reader that helps to create a world that is not only plausible, but downright believable.

More than just erotica, HAREM MASTER is a plot-driven novel that delves into the mind and motives of its protagonist and speaks with a voice that will please its readers.


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.

 


Happy Normal Birthday!

Cocktails-2It’s time once again to celebrate our favorite Brit’s birthday, Megan from VeryNormal!

I’ll admit to having a heck of a time trying to figure out how to top last year’s send off, but this year I think I’ve got it covered. When I imagined what I’d likely be doing if I were in England right now,  the answer became instantly clear. Why I’d be drinking, of course. So this year I’ve decided to create a drink specifically for our Megan, and name it accordingly. Ladies and Gentlemen I give you:

The Induced American

Named because you will likely be driving on the wrong side of the road after you knock one of these babies back. Here’s the recipe:

Ingredients (sorry they aren’t metric)

1 very thin sliver habanero pepper (because she is so spicy!)

2 slices fresh ginger root (because I like her with red hair best)

1 1/2 fluid ounces gin (because gin is British)

3/4 fluid ounce lime juice (because…well, because I like lime juice)

1/2 fluid ounce simple syrup (because she is so sweet!)

1 cup ice cubes (just because)

Directions

Muddle habanero pepper slice and 2 slices fresh ginger together in a cocktail shaker until pulverized, about 20 seconds. Add gin, lime juice, simple syrup, and ice. Cover and shake until well chilled. Strain with a fine mesh strainer into a cocktail glass. Garnish with a thin slice of ginger on a toothpick. Drink a toast to Megan and the Queen!

Happy Birthday, Megan! Have a drink for me!

TO WISH MEGAN A HAPPY BIRTHDAY VISIT:

VeryNormal

FOR THE FULL COCKTAIL LIST VISIT:

Archon’s Den

El Guapo

HR Nightmare

Sandylikeabeach


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!


It’s….CUPID!!!

As Valentine’s Day approaches I thought it only appropriate to interview the most wanted man, uh…boy in the world. I’m talking about the one, the only….CUPID.

CUPID – Pleasure to be here. Despite this being my busy time of year, I can always find time for you H.E., you helped my blog become what it is today and for that my heart is ever at your service…..You know, if you wanted I could set you up with somebody? I still feel bad about your last relationship. In my defense though, you were the one who fucked that up. Cupid’s arrow is rarely wrong and sometimes you got to give a little to get a little if you know what I mean….

***** So tell the readers, what is the hardest part being the God of Desire?

CUPID – The hardest part? My cock.

* silence *

Nah, I’m just fucking with you. Nothing like a little dirty humor to lighten the mood. Seriously though, the hardest part has got to be humanity. Fifty years ago this would not have been my answer, I mean, fifty years ago people knew how to make a commitment to one another. Now everyone is so needy and expects so much from the person they are with, no one knows how to stay in anything longer than a few years. Its sad really. I blame the hippie generation for this. All that free love fucked up real love for the rest of you. Well, that and women’s lib. Give me the days where I just shot a guy with love and never had to worry about what the woman wanted, because if she didn’t go with the guy I shot then he would just take her. It sounds bad but god-damn it made my job easier.

***** What’s with the bow and arrow?

CUPID – Are you serious? They’re fucking magic, that’s what! It brings forth love and happiness and shit to all that the arrows pierce….Whats with the….Look, if you find a magic shotgun for sale then I’ll buy it, but since there is no such thing, I’ll stick to my bow and arrow thank you very much..

***** How does love in the twenty-first century differ from say, the Renaissance period?

CUPID – Two words, E- Harmony. Them and all those other find love web sites that have popped up since the internet began. Back in the good ole days you didn’t have to fill out a twenty questions exam to get shacked up with somebody, you trusted my arrow to make the right connection. Now though, since these computer cupids have shown up, love is down, STDs are up and the murder rate in Juarez, Mexico has skyrocketed.

That last one has nothing to do with what we are talking about, I just got done reading a book about Juarez and that crap just keeps slipping out, sorry. You get my…..shit….what was my point…….Oh yeah, the Renaissance! It was different.

***** Have you ever missed an intended target? 

CUPID(long pause) On the record, no. Off the record, fuck yeah.

Look, it’s not easy, this job I mean. Its a ton of pressure for one God,you people are so fucking needy, especially you women. From now on, why not just say what it is you’re really looking for in a guy. First off, sense of humor is not that fucking important to you, so stop saying it first. It would make my job and your connection to your true love so much easier to make.That being said, I’ve fucked up here and there throughout time….Do I regret doing it? No, I rack it up to learning experiences…….I do feel bad about Whitney Houston though, I never should have introduced her to Bobby. That was my bad and for that I apologize.

Otherwise, mistakes or no mistakes, once that arrow hits you it’s no longer my problem. Love can happen anywhere, but I can only do so much, it’s up to you to make it work. Here’s an example, that teacher that slept with her student a few years back. You remember, right? She slept with him, got pregnant, got busted, got fired, got jail time, had the baby, got out of jail and then, got back together with him. That’s dedication people. It’s also a tale of love through the toughest of obstacles. What she did was wrong, there’s no doubt about it, I messed that one up, but in the end the love prevailed. All you humans see are the bad things in the people that I hook you up with, somehow you stop seeing the good after being with someone awhile. I never understood this, because the second you break it off, suddenly all you remember are the good qualities, the things that were always there but you would look past. Everyone fights, everyone has issues, it’s up to you to work past them and make it last. Not me.

***** Mythology tells us you inherited this job from your mother, Venus. Tell me, how did it feel growing up with the original MILF as your mom?

CUPID- My mother only talked to me when she wanted something from me. She is a vain, manipulative, alcoholic and I hated growing up with her as a mom. Did you ever see the movie Mommy Dearest? Imagine that but in God form, that’s how my childhood was. I’ve got so many issues because of her I had to cancel my subscription. We haven’t seen each other in years.

***** The identity of your father has never been made public, although Mars has been a popular suspect throughout history. How true are the rumors that you are scheduled to appear on an episode of THE MAURY POVICH SHOW with the intent to confront him with a paternity test?

CUPID- What? Where did you hear that? Of course it’s not true! There’s no need. I found out years ago who my real father was and it certainly wasn’t Mars. No, no, my father lives in Florida, his name is Dale Gibbons and he’s a retired nightclub owner from Miami. Cool guy actually.

***** Was it difficult growing up as an obese child with obvious bladder control problems?

CUPID – All those paintings and sculptures were taken when I was going through a growth stage of my life. Look at me now! Fit, tan and with 12 pack abs. Do I look anything like those pictures? No. I worked hard to get past those looks. Jenny Craig helped of course, but it was mostly me and my dedication to get fit that did it.

And as far as the bladder control goes, I don’t know where that got started. I never wore a diaper, I always went in the nude back then. Censorship is a bitch. Some people can’t handle the male nude form so you got to cover it up, that’s where the diaper comes in.

***** Fill us in on your unfortunate accident where you accidentally shot yourself and fell in love with Psyche?

CUPID – You’re getting these questions from Wikipedia, right? See, that’s why you don’t trust a user controlled reference site, they get it all wrong usually. Okay, you want the real story between me and Psyche? Here goes…

My mom comes to me one day complaining about this chick, saying she’s taking all her worshipers and shit. So mom asks me to go over to this girls place and make her fall in love with the most vile thing I could think of. High as a kite and pissed off because I was in the middle of a game when I was summoned, Saints Row 3 I think, we get all the games before humans do, its one of the perks of being a God, I grabbed my bow and arrows and flew over to her house.

As I’m sneaking into her room I’m trying my best to be extra quiet, but you know how when you’re trying to be quiet every sound is amplified, like, a thousand times? Well that’s what was happening in that room. Every step seemed to cascade through the whole house, and me being high certainly didn’t help.

Finally I get real close to her and start to pull out an arrow, as I’m doing this, her little Min Pin comes running up, yapping the whole way. It scared the shit out of me and I dropped the arrow. I hated that dog. Twinkles was his name. Can you believe that? The dog was totally gay too, he used to try and hump one of the guards dogs, a big German Shepard named KrissKross, it was hilarious.

Anyway, I dropped my arrow and it scraped her foot. Not me like Wikipedia would have you believe, but hers. She wakes up, bing, bang, boom, she sees me, falls in love and hasn’t left me alone since.

In the beginning it was cool. I would sneak over for some late night tail and scurry off again, but after a while it started to get a little stale. I think she saw how I was feeling and figured that the only way to keep me around was to get pregnant.  When I found out I was pissed! I totally wasn’t ready to be a dad, I’m still not but it is what it is. In the end we are all responsible for our actions and so I had a kid with her. If you’re looking for morals that’s about as good as it gets. Wrap that shit unless you want a world of shit. Either that or stick to stickin’ the back door, if you get my drift.

***** So, is the God of Desire dating anyone at the moment?

CUPID – Jen Aniston. Six months now. It’s nice I guess.

RETURN MONDAY FOR A PRESIDENT’S DAY SPaM AND MY INTERVIEW WITH A MYSTERY GUEST!!!


It’s Groundhog Day!

In keeping with the month-old tradition of holiday icon interviews I am pleased to bring you a sit down with the original weatherman himself. Today we dig deeper into the mind and home of none other than…The Groundhog.

Good morning…uh, what should I call you? Groundhog seems so formal.

*snicker* “I’ve been called a hog before, but only when I’m slow on the pass, heh. My World of Warcraft toon (character name) is ‘PudgyBits.’”

Alright…Pudgy Bits. I see you have internet access in your, uh…hole?

“The ladies call it my “Love Shack” but I call it home. Yeah, it’s a sweet set-up I’ve got here. Totally juiced. Lots of space, fridge full of Hot Pockets. Everything paid for by the Man.”

What is it the “Man” pays you to do, exactly?

“Exactly? Exactly once a year I climb out my hole, look around, do a little dance for the paparazzi, take a photo op with a Kardashian, you know the drill. It’s a good gig.”

So tell me, how does one become an official Groundhog?

“All groundhogs became official groundhogs once we won the contract from the Honey Badger Union because they, well, you know…just didn’t care. They’re crazy if you ask me. Lots of fringe benefits to this gig. I’m not afraid to say I’ve made a bit of cash on the side for selling…uh, local herbs.”

You aren’t suggesting….

“Suggesting what? That the government won’t let a groundhog earn a decent wage? It’s a conspiracy, man! What else am I supposed to do to supplement my income? Wear a tie like some corporate lemming? God put herbs here on earth for me. The Man can’t outlaw nature.”

Speaking of laws; are the rumors true that you allegedly received monies from a Mississippi Senator to drive up tourism from the north by falsely claiming six more weeks of winter?

“Wait…Sena-what? Is that who that dude was? Geez man, I don’t know. The dude was talking all weird and shit, like Deputy Dawg. Heh heh. You ever see that show? Funny as hell. One time me and my buddy Irish got totally baked and watched…wait, what were we talking about?”

Accusations of taking a bribe to throw Groundhog Day.

“Oh riiiight...yeah, I don’t remember much about that day. There was some kind of fungus growing on the grass that messed me up good. Saw my shadow everywhere…”

Alright, what does a groundhog do for the remaining 364 days of the year?

“You’re lookin’ at it man…uh, lady. I chill in my “lair” and get my WoW on. I just got my level 72 Death knight’s frost spec up to 32 so I can use howling blast and pown PVP kids. That way I can raise my conquest points and buy my 347 B.O.A. gear. Whoa, did I just say that?”

Ok…I can’t believe I’m going to ask this but…is there a “lady” groundhog in your life?

“Oh no. I’m not making that mistake again. Last female I met online tried to eat me. Literally. I’m working on a restraining order as we speak, so yeah, look around. I’m staying right here.”

*in bursts female honey badger, irate and charging* “OH HEEEELLL NAH-O! WHO IS THIS BITCH??”

*Groundhog jumps back, waving paws wildly* “WAIT! SHE’S NOT–“

*Honey badger shoves him aside and then turns toward me* “Oh I know she’s not. Skinny little female needs to step away from my man. That’s MY hog, BITCH!” *spins back around to groundhog* “And where the hell is my money?? You best get to rollin’ some clover before I eat your ass. I’ll roll ya and smoke ya myself. I’m a Honey Badger, fool. I don’t give a shit.”

*while she is distracted I scramble out of the hole.*

FOR MORE GROUNDHOG GOODNESS, VISIT POLYSYLLABIC PROFUNDITIES!

WANT MORE INTERVIEWS? PICK UP A COPY OF ICONIC INTERVIEWS TO BENENFIT LIBSTRONG!

 


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!


The Emperor’s New Clothes

imagesJust in time for the holiday season comes the latest installment of our F*CKED UP FAIRY TALES courtesy of the one and only Sparklebumps!

The Emperor’s New Clothes (otherwise entitled A Woman Scorned)

by, Sparklebumps

Once upon a time, there lived a very beautiful boy who longed to be king and live in great finery. This would have been all well and good, except for the fact that he was the bastard son of a peasant, and there were no chances for boys such as him. So he grew up always looking in shop windows and coveting the fine silks and satins that were displayed in them.

One day, the boy (who was becoming a young man by this time) was hauling cow dung to the nudey community on the other side of the village, and as he passed the shop window, he looked inside. This time, instead of wishing for the fabulous duds inside, he spied the shopkeeper’s daughter, who was also very beautiful, and fell instantly in love with her because she produced in his pants the same reaction that fine fabric did.

He entered the shop, went right up to the gorgeous girl, and planted a kiss on her berry-colored lips. At first, she was taken aback by the force of his passion (and the fact that he wore d’odour du cow shit)but then she realized what an amazing kisser he was and her knees became weak with want. She kissed him back, and when they were both breathless, she took his hand and led him to the back room of the shop. The young man looked around and saw that he was surrounded by garments of the chicest style and materials. He was so overcome with desire, from the kissing and the clothing both, that he prematurely ejaculated.

“Aaaaahhhhhrrrrgggh,” He groaned as he shivered with pleasure. The shopkeeper’s daughter looked at him curiously.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” She held out her hand to steady the man.

“Um…er. It’s nothing. I just find you so sexy, and I have a passion for fashion, so I’m just overwhelmed.” He flushed bright red and his eyes darted nervously around, as he hoped she wouldn’t notice the wet stain on his pants. Her touch was already making him hard again, so she hadn’t noticed his deflated… ahem, ego. He pressed his body against her once more, and gripped her buttocks so firmly that she cried out, and responded by loosening the ties on his breeches.

They proceeded to fuck each other senseless throughout the night, and the girl only wondered about the wet spot on the man’s pants for a moment before drifting off into a perfectly-sated, sexy-dream filled sleep.

As the sun rose, the gorgeous boy awoke with a start and realized he had never delivered the shit to the nudey community.

He jumped up, and ran out of the shop, to where his wheelbarrow of crap sat, undisturbed. He hurried on his way, never once letting the girl he’s just de-virginized know where he was going, or if he’d be back.

On the way to the nudey community, the boy passed a grand procession, and as he maneuvered his shit out of the way, the Empress inside one of the wagons admired his beauty, and also his ass. She stopped the procession with a slight snap of her fingers,and whispered something to her head man.

“Hey, you! Pretty boy! Stop right there!” The man cried out in authority.

The boy froze, certain he was about to be beheaded for offending royalty with the stench of his cow dung, and turned slowly to face the wagons. He was too afraid to speak.

“The Empress is pleased by you. Come forward.” The boy stepped gingerly toward the ornate carriage, but stopped when he heard a voice like the tinkling of bells.

“Do you long for power? Wealth and finery? Do you dream of having loyal subjects to do your bidding?”

The boy’s jaw dropped, for these were the very things he daydreamed about.

“Yes!” He said vehemently.

There was a giggle, adn then the curtain was drawn back on the wagon and the lovely exotic face of the Empress appeared.

“And what would you do, my sweet boy, to gain all of these things? Would you be willing to be tied up and allow me to paddle that beautiful bottom of yours til it’s pink and sore? Would you allow my teeth to graze your nipples and your innocent member without promise of your own release?” She raised an eyebrow.

The boy contemplated an S and M relationship with an Empress, and couldn’t see any bad angles of the arrangement, so he responded with a confidence he didn’t necessarily possess.

“My queen, my all, I would allow even the largest of your strap-on dildos to invade my anal crevice if you could make me powerful and wealthy.”

The Empress grinned broadly, for she had every intention of doing that very thing to her next submissive. With only a look, the boy was shepherded into the carriage, and the Empress wasted no time in beginning her training. The boy was shackled to the roof of the wagon, and he watched  his wheelbarrow of crap and the shopkeeper’s daughter fade into the distance as the Empress sucked furiously on his cock.

The boy did so well as a submissive, that when the Empress died, she bequeathed to him the whole kingdom, and he became so obsessed with fashion that he would spare no expense to obtain every style that arose.

Because the boy was so beautiful, and so obsessed with his wardrobe, he would spend every moment in his dressing room admiring himself in front of many mirrors, front and back. While in most kingdoms, when someone would ask where the Emperor was, the normal response was, “He is in his statesroom.”, in this kingdom, the servants would say, “He is in his dressing room.” The Emperor was so self-obsessed that he would host fashion week, and insisted on modeling all the newest fashions himself. Masses of horny women and gay men would flock to the kingdom to admire the fine Emperor and his fabulous duds.

Our story truly begins as the Emperor searches high and low for the most daring and creative of clothing designers to feature at fashion week. He shook his head ruefully when his servants suggested such designers as Betsey Johnson and Alexander McQueen. He wanted someone who would shock the masses and make them insanely jealous of his frocks. His servants whispered amongst themselves while the Emperor racked his brain.

“What are you idiots muttering about? Do you realize that fashion week approaches , and I haven’t one designer who’s designs make my prick hard? What are we to do?” The emperor raged.

One brave lad stepped forward. “My lord, there is one who may be just the designer you seek, though there are stories that all who hire her are susceptible to her spell. She has left a string of broken-hearted royalty across many lands.”

“Pshaw,” the Emperor scoffed. “You needn’t be concerned on that front. Do you not know by now that my desire is only for fashion? I think not even a magical pussy would cause my manhood to rise. Find this fabled designer, and bring her to me.”

The servants scurried like mice in every direction then, embarrassed for the Emperor and the fact that no woman could get it up for him.

An envoy was sent out to find the talked of designer, and returned with her in no time.

Now this designer, when presented to the Emperor, DID in fact create a reaction in his pants when he gazed upon her. He found her oddly familiar, yet couldn’t recall where he had seen her before. Years of being tied up and spanked by the Empress had made him forget his first sexual encounter- that with the shopkeeper’s daughter. If he had remembered this, he would have realized she and this lovely designer were one in the same.

After she had been de-virginized and left alone, the shopkeeper’s daughter vowed to shame the boy who had popped her cherry just as he had shamed her. She worked day and night, becoming a well-respected maker of high fashion, fueling her designs with the rage she felt at being abandoned that day.

Her hard work was about to pay off, because she saw that the emperor did not recognize her. She gave him a flirtatious smile and bowed graciously. The Emperor beckoned to her, and insisted at once that she show him her latest designs.

The woman tilted her head and spoke.

“Dear Emperor, I have no designs to show you, for the collection I’ve been working on is very magical indeed. It must be made of the finest cloth, from the richest silk worms in the world. And it must be encrusted with the most shining of gemstones. But once the design is woven, it can only be seen by the man that is worthy of the position he holds. If he cannot see it, it proves that he is indeed an unworthy fool, and must be fired.”

Now any unfoolish person would know that this story sounded like complete poppycock, but the Emperor was so vain that he could not distinguish truth from a lie. So he sent his men to the furthest reaches of the land to procure the finest silks and clearest gemstones to provide the designer with. Upon receiving the goods, the designer would secretly tuck everything into her trunks to save for her real collection, and then she would set to work on her sewing machine without a stitch of thread strung though it. The Emperor’s servants saw her working on the clothes that weren’t there, and became distraught at the idea that they were fools unworthy of their station, and so remained silent.They murmured amongst themselves, until the whole kingdom was murmuring about the invisible clothes. The emperor was so impatient after hearing the rumors, that he insisted on checking out the clothes immediately.

When he entered the sewing chamber, the designer smiled delightfully, so that the Emperor’s manhood grew quite hard.

“Have you come for a fitting, my lord?” She asked innocently.

“Ahem… er, ah, yes. I’m ready to see the fine designs.” The Emperor began to grow nervous, because he was seeing no clothing to try on, and was a bit afraid the servants would notice his raging boner if they couldn’t see the clothing either.

“Here.” The Designer pretended to hold out a piece of clothing, when in actuality she held out nothing at all. “It is a fine tunic, is it not?”

She couldn’t help but admire the tumescent member of the Emperor as he stripped and held out his hand to accept the garment she offered. She scooted closer, and as he slipped the non-existent clothing over his head, she slid her hand down and gently grazed his manhood.

It had been so long since the Emperor had been touched in such a way that he squealed and spurted his hot baby gravy all over the imaginary clothing.

“Now look what you have done!” The designer cried in dismay, though she was laughing inside to herself. “There is no way to clean such dirtiness out of such a garment! This will have to be re-sewn with new fabrics!” She turned away from the Emperor in feigned disgust.

The man was so embarrassed he couldn’t speak, and he covered his face in shame. This was exactly the reaction the designer had hoped for- she wanted him to be degraded as she had been. After many minutes, the Emperor spoke.

“Oh please do not be upset, my dear. I will send for more fabric and more gemstones, only please do not divulge what has happened here to anyone.”

The designer pretended to think on this for a moment before bowing her head in respect.

“As my lord wished. I will work on the other designs while I wait for the things I need.”

The Emperor knew he was being dismissed, and though he normally would not allow someone to treat him thus, he was too afraid she would announce his surprise discharge to the masses, so he said nothing. He left the room in the clothes that weren’t there with his jizz dripping down the front of him. The servants in the halls whispered behind there hands, surprised at the Emperor’s nakedness, and admiring it as well. The emperor went to his chambers and did not come out again until word was sent that the collection was completed.

The Emperor, still being very vain, had decided he would be the only person to walk down the runway during fashion week in the designs made for him. Since it was only twelve hours before the first show, he sent word to the designer telling her this decision. When she heard the news, she smiled to herself, because the Emperor would be walking in the nude down the catwalk in front of the entire kingdom exactly thirty-two times. Finally, her honor would be avenged.

The following morning, the emperor arrived in the dressing room, and was immediately worried because once again he saw none of the fine garments he was supposed to be modeling. The designer entered the room and waved her arm in the direction of the clothes that weren’t there.

“Is it not the finest wardrobe my lord has ever seen? Is he not pleased?” She looked at the Emperor expectantly.

The Emperor was momentarily distracted, because the designer was provocatively dressed in a skin-tight gown that was cut down the front all the way to her navel. Her breasted were perfectly shaped underneath, and the Emperor’s memory was jogged about a similar pair of hooters he had seen long ago. His manhood once again grew to abundant lengths, and his regained memory was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

“Ahh, yes, er… fine indeed. The most splendid I’ve ever laid eyes on.” He fibbed, for his eyes for not laying on anything other than a pair of perfectly shaped bosoms.

The designer seductively smiled and sauntered close to the Emperor. Her breast brushed his arm, and he jumped.

“Now, only payment must be made, and everything shell be yours.” She whispered invitingly.

The Emperor could not resist, and stuck his hand down the front of the designer’s dress. She peeled his clothes away and climbed onto his ridged cock, riding him until she found release. She did so quickly enough that the emperor was left unsatisfied, and with a boner still.

“Mmmm, that was great. Now, you must get ready have the entire kingdom admire all you have to offer.” She dressed so fast he hadn’t a chance to utter one word about his remaining boner, and was suddenly left with many servants trying to look busy and ignore his manhood.

The fashion show began, and the emperor hadn’t even enough time to take care of himself before it started, so he donned the non-existent finery and hoped that no one in the front rows would notice the bulge underneath. Out he went on the catwalk, naked as a jay bird.

The masses oohed and aahed, not because of the grand garments as the Emperor thought, but because they were so surprised at the largeness of his member, and the fact that he was completely naked. Not one of them said a word, but continued to admire the emperor as he strutted back and forth for half of the show. It was not until a child in the audience cried out, “Mama! The Emperor’s peepee is sticking out!” that the Emperor realized he was really and truly naked, and at that point he had already been in front of the audience for so long without clothes, that he thought, “What the hell? I look good,” and continued to strut his stuff. Upon realizing that the Emperor had just spent a good forty-five minutes nude in front of children and adults alike, the police came and arrested him for indecent exposure, and he was sentenced to one year in prison for every count, which ended up being… well, a really long time since there were so many people there. He became the bitch of a burly black man during his stay in the kingdom’s penitentiary and spent the rest of his life getting it up the butt.

What happened  to the designer, you may ask? She road away with her trunks of silk and gemstones in tow, laughing out loud at the Emperor and his insane vanity. She now lives in Aruba and designs red carpet duds for the likes of Angelina and Salma Hayek.

The End


JAILBREAK AT THE NORTH POLE

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//– DATELINE: NORTH POLE –//

Associated Press

North Pole – Shocking developments today at the North Pole rocked legal and judicial communities all around the world.

Santa Claus, under arrest for a variety of charges since early this year, has escaped custody.  The warden for the North Pole District Detention Facility declined comment.

Unnamed sources cited mafia connections in this classic jailbreak, which ultimately caused an entire wing of the Detention Facility to be shut down for repair.  “Total overkill,” one guard said, “One minute, I was rousting this sex offen… uh, checking on the prisoners, and the next I woke up in the middle of the deflated Bouncy Castle down on the floor.  The inmates were devastated.”  Other sources confirmed that riotous prisoners were transferred to separate them after a near riot over the Bouncy Castle.

The usually taciturn District Attorney maintained that, “We will of course seek justice for the people in this case.  This is in no way over.”  An unnamed source close to the DA hinted that the unofficial verdict here in the Pole region is ‘good riddance’ after the ongoing circus of civil disturbances resulting from Santa Claus’ arrest and incarceration.

At the height of the Santa Crisis, the NAACP provided Claus an attorney to replace Jose Baez, who quit the case citing personal reasons.  Santa Claus’ pro bono lawyer declined comment, but later Al Sharpton issued a statement saying, “Justice is served for Brother Claus.  Whether he’s free now or was set free later by an activist jury doing the right thing, justice has prevailed.”  NAACP and Sharpton spokesbrothers were available for further comment.

The legal circuit media here in town were not put off breaking news for long, however.  Only hours after Claus’ mysterious and violent escape, North Pole Police responded to a 9-1-1 call allegedly made by staffers working for Gloria Allred, the lawyer representing Mrs. Claus in her divorce proceedings.  One jelly-donut-filling-smeared officer stated, “We have no suspects at this time, but the connection with the jail break cannot be overlooked.”  A source within NPP said off the record that one key item logged into evidence were salad tongs that were found at the scene.

Other sources close to the presiding judicial figures in these cases hinted at a unilateral backroom deal that would settle both cases without further court drama.  Just this morning beat reporters went to the blogs to announce that Mrs. Claus boarded a commercial flight out of the Pole, possibly confirming rumors of this alleged backroom deal.  No official representatives of any North Pole offices were available for comment after this.

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

DATELINE – SANTA


Invisible Fellatio

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1. Go to Google.

2. Perform an image search on the word “coughing.”

3. Witness countless people giving the Invisible Man a blowjob.

 


Turkey Incognito

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All across America families are gathered around their tables in celebration of Thanksgiving; a holiday that commemorates the first harvest of 1621 for the Pilgrims of Plymouth, Massachusetts. Here in New England, the birthplace of Thanksgiving, we honor our forebears by keeping with the tradition of serving turkey, an indigenous bird to this part of the country.

While many of us view turkey as festive holiday fare, there are some who consider our gesture of patronage murder. There is one who goes so far as to call it genocide. Today’s holiday interview is like no other that’s come before, because today we are conducting our interview in a secret hide-out free from the tyranny of New England’s native carnivores. Today we interview Pro-foul resistance leader, Tom Turkey.

Hello, Tom. Forgive me for sounding trite, but how are you doing?

Eat me – that’s how I’m doing. Oh, I’m doing really well. Gobble gobble and shit. I’ve been soaking in this hot tub all day – it smells great, sort of spicy or something. It’s making me hungry! GAH! Wait a minute…

Without revealing too much information, can you explain what is involved in engineering and maintaining an underground system of foul relocation?

Ah yes, the Undergrain Railroad. Well first, some wild turkeys are helping out with that by disguising some of us with camouflage and leaves. Those guys are poultry in motion. Secondly, we eat nothing but donuts and burgers and Cheetos to ensure that even if we’re caught, we’re too fatty to be palatable.

From what your lieutenants tell me you’ve been able to successfully move over one thousand turkeys out of New England to a Vegan commune somewhere in rural California. What are the logistics involved in such a massive migration, and were there any bumps along the way?

Besides these red things, you mean? HA HA! GOL! (Ed. note: gobble out loud) One word: trains. This country hates trains, so it’s easy to sneak on like a bunch of hobos and ride them all across the country.  And when we can’t do trains, we ride bears. That’s right, bears! Grizzlies! In return for eating bugs.  They hate bugs.

Have there ever been any close calls?

Yes there have – hunters. Those damned turkey calling things are like a siren song to some of us. Some of us are really fucking stupid, and when they hear one of those things go off, they go running out, and BLAM! Though this one time, one of our boys was able to get someone shot in the face. Hilarious!

And there was that one time when someone got a little smart for her own good, and read a map, and saw this country called… you know. She put the wrong two with the wrong two and got… well, eaten.
 

What would you like to see the Obama administration do in the form of policies that would make hiding out unnecessary?
Useless, Hellis. Useless. It’s already been tried. Over 200 years ago, we started a grassroots whisper campaign to get Benjamin Franklin to make the turkey the national bird. We would have been set FOREVER! But that idiot ran out in a rain storm and got shocked, and he was never the same. We couldn’t even get him on the ballot. Eventually, he went to France. Yeah, France. I know, right! Gobbledammed eagles swooped up and took the bird prize. They’re endangered, of course, but no one is eating them, are they.

More than just winning sovereignty for the Turkey population, you’ve been quoted as stating you’d like to see the Thanksgiving holiday abolished altogether. What in particular about Thanksgiving (other than turkey consumption) do you find distasteful?

Cranberry sauce. Terrible stuff. Oh, and those hand thingies, where human children trace their hands and pretend they’re turkeys? What the hell – those look nothing like us.

What’s your opinion on Turduken?

Well, I’ve stuffed a duck AND a chicken before, if you know what I’m saying, and I’ve seen ducks and chickens having some fun, but… yeah… this is just sick.

Finally, where do you see yourself in the future?

President of Mars, which will be renamed Turkopolis. It will also be renicknamed The Red Thingie Planet.


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