The Eyeball Afterlife

The 7 Question 'I Hate...' Meme

2008-07-05T15:40:22Z

Seems like a lot of us are hanging around today, looking for ways to procrastinate.

Well... I've never started a meme and this may end up the worst meme in meme history, but, what the hey...

Just fill in the blanks.

1. I hate the color....
2. I hate the TV show...
3. I hate the taste of....
4. I hate the smell of....
5. I hate the word....
6. I hate the sound of...
7. I hate the song...

My answers...

1. Yellow
2. Grey's Anatomy
3. pesto
4. rotten corn
5. impious
6. a crying baby
7. Lollypop

Okay... Now you MUST tag three people to continue play.

I TAG reneesweet leahclifford leilaniroseb because I know they're lurking about today. If you don't want to play... the meme dies here. At least I tried. Right?

Just Random Stuff

2008-07-03T12:25:30Z

First... HAPPY BIRTHDAY to

salamet!!! Sorry I'm late with this. ;-(

My 80 year old father went into the hospital yesterday. I'm not sure if I told this story or not. About a year ago he went to watch a girls high school basketball game. He has to sit in the front because he can't walk up the bleachers. Two girls were going after the ball and slammed into him. His leg swelled and they halted the game to get him on a gurney and to the hospital. His leg was broke. He spent about a week in the hospital. Yesterday morning that same leg was swelled up again. He had a fever and his neck and face were getting red. Still don't know what's wrong, but he's in good spirits (though he hates the hospital).

As for me... I'm going to the doctor today for my back and arm pain. Still killin' me. Ah! Am I really that old?

Took my two youngest daughters to see WALL*E the other night. Just amazing! The computer animation is beyond real. And the story was touching. Towards the end, my youngest kept saying, "Oh no.... Wall-E!"

Hoping to get through chapter Five of The Off-Blue Lagoon this weekend. I think that will put me at about a quarter of the way through it. I'm hoping to have it complete and polished by the end of August and then let Rachel decide if she'd like to try pitching it or Chronic Joe. I'd like to give her a choice.

Let's see... Hm... what else? Oh... Tara Kelly tlcadencehas another interview up, this one with megancrewe. I've had the privilege of reading one of Megan's books. She's incredible. I mean it... some of her passages just blew me away. And her idea is so original. Go take a look.

http://thetaratracks.com/blog/

Have I missed anything? A cat leg... no, sorry, that's another Blog post. Um... how about a picture.

Here's one of me when I was little. I was taking a bath with my favorite pet named Fred. Fred was so cute. I swear, when I was afraid at night, Fred would crawl into bed and curl up with me. We were so close. I miss him. And, thanks to Fred, I miss my little brother.

ETA - I looked a little Asian when I was small... not sure why. Maybe I should ask my parents old mailman... Mr. Wong.

ETA - My mom used to say as Mr. Wong stuffed our mailbox, "Mr. Wong can be so right," then she'd make this purring sound. I always found that odd.

Thank You and Recipe

2008-07-02T13:17:42Z

First I just want to thank everyone for stopping by to read Episode One of The Hardly Boys. It's odd... I turn ljuser_zero (Superfly) into a star... and he doesn't even reply. I know he's reading it. I can feel a disturbance in the force. Still...

If you didn't see it, go check it out. The winner gets a signed book from their favorite FFF author (if the author is attending Conestoga) or chocolate.

http://brian-ohio.livejournal.com/98113.html

Also, as I promised Barrie Summy, my good friend and agent-sister, I'm posting a recipe for the July 4th parties. I could have sworn she said to post them on July 2nd, but when I went to her Blog site this morning... it was already up. I wonder if she'll still link to me. I'll link to her anyway cause I'm a nice guy.

http://barriesummy.blogspot.com/

This is an easy dessert recipe that the kids will LOVE!

The Next Best Thing to Robert Redford (Yeah... I know this name needs updating. Maybe The Next Best Thing to Jack Black)

1 bag of Oreo Cookies - crushed
1 stick of margerine - melted

Spread the cookie crumbs on the bottom of a 13x9 baking dish and pour the melted marerine over the top. Pat in place and chill for an hour or so. (Chill the cookies and butter, don't YOU go chill.)

1 - 8oz package of chream cheese
1 cup sugar
1 - 8oz carton of Cool Whip
1 box instant vanilla pudding
1 box instant chocolate pudding
3 cups of milk

Mix cream cheese, sugar and 1/2 Cool Whip. Spread over the chilled cookie crumbs. Mix both puddings with the milk until thickened. Pour over cream cheese mixture. Chill for 2-3 hours. Spread the remaining Cool Whip on top and serve.

I'm tellin' you this is delicious. I make it all the time. Usually I make two, one for home and one for where we're heading. Good Stuff.

Live Journal Myster Theater - Second Season - Episode One

2008-07-01T16:01:42Z

Since I have it finished and I want to end it before Conestoga, I've decided to go ahead and post. I will post an Episode for the next three Tuesdays as well. On June 24th, the day of the last episode, you will have a chance to guess at who is the culprit.

The winner will get to pick a book they would like to have signed by one of the authors at Conestoga. I will purchase the book and have it signed for the winner. Now... if you are an FFF author already and have all the signed books you need, the back up prize will be Harry London's Chocolate.

As always, if you don't like me using you in this story, please send me an LJ message and I will remove you from the story. It's all for fun.

So, without further ado... here is Episode One of...

The Hardly Boys

The Hardly Boys (brian_ohioa.k.a Eyeball and ljuser_zeroa.k.a. Superfly) stand outside the conference room of the Mayberry Hotel. They’re wearing their trademark tight-fitting, neon-yellow t-shirts with the Hardly Boy’s logo on it - a Speedo-suited, buff, muscle man holding a spyglass to his eye. Their slogan “We’re Hardly Boys… We’re MEN!” hasn’t met the fanfare that Superfly had promised.

“We goin' in?” Superfly asks. cocoskeeperstrolls by, her hair and clothes flashing, she’s strung Christmas lights all over herself.

“How else we supposed to solve this mystery?” Eyeball snaps. Literally snaps his fingers, not as a metaphor as to how he poses the question.

“You don’t have to snap,” Superfly motions for devonmonkto pass by; she’s carrying a mug of coffee the size of a 2-liter jug of soda.

“I didn’t snap verbally,” Eyeball snaps, this time verbally.

“You did that time.” Superfly notices raveldasitting on the floor working on books, writing, school work and God knows what else. “Besides… what mystery are you talking about?”

“The one that I’m writing right now. I’m typing these words in. See.”

Someone falls on the floor, books go flying everywhere. It’s mela_lyn, of course. The Hardly Boys are too manly to offer to help her up. Or help her gather her books. They’ve got thick skin.

“You’re takin’ the reader out of the story by sayin’ that.” Superfly’s lime green shorts clash horribly with his shirt.

“I’m tryin’ to keep this short, so I squeeze in details however I can. And it’s my story.” Eyeball thrusts out his chest threateningly.

“How many books you got published?” Superfly sticks out his tongue once reneesweethas walked by, she’s carrying her manuscript… all 352,262 pages of it.

“That’s a low blow. Even for a crap-eating insect like you.” Eyeball’s eyeballs begin to water. To cover the potential tears, Eyeball takes a half-lemon from an abandoned lunch tray and squirts the juice in his eyes. Much better.

“Well… let’s go inside.” Superfly grasps the polished door handle.

Eyeball leans in close and whispers into Superfly’s ear. “Be vigilant and enigmatic. Stealthy scrutinization is key.”

“I know it’s your story, but you don’t talk like that…” Superfly shuns away, “And you’re too close, I can smell the Pop Rocks on your breath.”

Just as they are about to enter, the door slams open catching Superfly in the head. ecabs, janetgurtlerand pambachorzcome skipping out of the conference room. They all glance down at a nearly unconscious Superfly, his head bleeding profusely, and just keep on skipping.

Eyeball helps Superfly up.

“I thought these were LJ friends?” Superfly asks, stretching his t-shirt to sop up the blood. Once he releases the fabric, it looks as though his nipple has been bleeding.

“My LJ friends. You never blog… remember?”

The Hardly Boys step into the conference room. It’s madness inside. Signings, readings, writings, hangings… plant hangings. Near the front sits jessicaverday, signing sticky notes that people can paste in her book once it comes out.

“My gosh… it’s a writer’s paradise,” Eyeball gasps.

“Did you mean paradise or pair of dice?” Superfly asks.

“I’ve come to the conclusion that, in this story… I’m the smart one.” Eyeball nods to beccaajoy, still tap dancing from her recent agent signing.

“That makes me the handsome one.” Superfly squares himself up.

“Sure… that works.” Eyeball can’t stop staring at the bleeding nipple.

A huge crowd’s gathered at one end of the room, near the stage. The Hardly Boys strut their way across the carpet. Boy, ladyeyeand Mrs. Superfly are two lucky broads. The chicks at the conference can’t take their eyes off the boys. Eyeball overhears rkvincentwhisper, “if they only wore mops.”

“Or were good-looking,” latteyaadds and titters.

The banner hanging behind the stage reads – The Live Journal of the Year. Wow! The most prestigious award of the Mayberry conference. Everyone here will be vying for that. And the judges are Otis Campbell, Barney Fife, Earnst T. Bass and Goober. When the Hardly Boys notice these celebs sitting on the stage, they both suffer near-heart attacks. Superfly actually squeals.

“Look!” Eyeball points at Otis, his hair is combed nicely. That means he’s sober. Before Eyeball can lower his arm, he catches mdhenry in the nose.

“Hey!” mdhenrysays, very un-Fonz-like.

“Sorry.” Eyeball offers a dimpled smile.

mdhenry gives them all a sweeping, mysterious look… then, back hunched, ambles away.

The Hardly boys sidle up to the stage. Someone, wearing a cloak, is whispering in Earnest Ts ear.

“I ain’t talkin’ I aint talkin’ the more you ask the more I’m balkin’ Hee! Hee!” Earnest T says to the figure.

“Come on, Eyeball. Let’s go find tmthomas… shouldn’t be hard amongst all these women.”

“You’d be surprised,” Eyeball retorts, remembering his last encounter with tmthomas in Pittsburgh.

They stop in front of what looks like a news crew. And there’s watchmebein front of the camera, doing this two-step thing in a green dress. Looks like vlogging again.

Eyeball catches a glimpse of hot pink hair… it’s blackaire. His agent sister. She’s wearing a Megadeath t-shirt with a Wham button. Weird taste. Just as he’s about to go talk to her… a scream shatters the cacophony of noise.

“A scream can’t shatter noise,” Superfly says, as the Hardly Boys jog, as if in slow motion, toward the stage.

“It can in my story, buster.”

The Hardly Boys take the steps and go behind the curtain. Lying on the floor is a body. The body of Earnest T Bass with a dented head. A rock lies just to the side. Eyeball picks it up and puts it to the dent. A perfect fit.

“Is that the murder weapon?” Superfly asks.

Eyeball merely gives him a cocky sideways glance.

“Look!” nancy_vsays. Eyeball isn’t surprised she’s here. If anyone knows about rocks as much as Earnest T… it’s nancy_v.

Eyeball turns the rock over. Someone has written a word on it – ‘reading’.

“Reading?” Superfly asks.

“Please tell me that’s not a question,” Eyeball says.

“No. It’s a clue.” Superfly crosses his piddly arms.

My Town in Pictures

2008-07-01T12:46:49Z

Following the tradition set by so many others on LJ, I'm going to appease everyone with *voice echoing* My Town In Pictures

Here I am outside the Cleveland Art Museum. It's just beautiful inside and out.

The beaches of Lake Erie are just wonderful as well. And the lake has never caught fire. Yet.

And I don't know what I did to my neck/right shoulder... but I am in some serious pain. Just sitting here typing.... it aches like hell. And the pain runs down my arm to my wrist. Ugh! Sleeping is not easy. I think it means I'm old.

I can't decide...

2008-07-01T00:49:55Z

... regarding the next installment of....

Live Journal Mystery Theater

I'm just about ready to post this four part series in which the incredibly hunky Hardly (this is not a typo) Boys - Superfly (ljuser_zero) and Eyeball (brian_ohio) have to solve a murder that takes place at the Mayberry Writers Conference.

You see... this one can be solved by the one word clues left behind by the criminal mastermind behind the murders. I'm awarding a prize if someone gets it correct. (Which I doubt will happen, no offense to you geniuses reading this.)

I was going to post it this Thursday, but I'm afraid too many people will be gone for the holiday and won't get to read it.

So... I can't decide.

Let's Start the Holiday Week with.... Blabble! crickets

2008-06-30T11:43:09Z

1. What would you do?

I'm at church yesterday (praying for you know what) and we all standup to sing. There's an older couple in front of us, probably in their seventies. The man has a hearing aid.

On his butt is a long blonde hair. Dead center on his butt. Not that I"m looking at his butt, but (Hey... 2 buts in a row!) I can't help but notice this long hair. So... I decide to ignore it. Except my wife elbows me and points it out. I shrug and say, "I see it." I figure that's the end of it... until she tells me to pluck it off his butt. Ugh! I thought about maybe pointing the hair out to the man, but he's wearing a hearing aid and I'd probably have to shout "You got a hair on your butt!". So, I like a neuro-surgeon about to perform delicate brain surgery... I reach out... and snatch that hair off. It has to be about 12" inches long. And it's not his wife's hair. Hm.

2. I Am Legend was an awesome movie. I loved it. (I'd marry it for the weekend, but have it annulled on Monday.)

3. We were watching Shrek on Saturday Night. And I noticed something that just took away the believeablity of the movie. I mean shattered it for me. Just after Fiona finishes off Robin Hood, she says something to Shrek. (I can't remember what she said.) Shrek is stupified by what she has just done to the Merry Men and says, "Hold the Phone!"

See... "Hold the PHONE!" They don't even have phones... how can he say that. I was very disappointed after that. How will I explain this to my youngest daughter?

4. Speaking of my youngest... she was falling asleep in the car and I asked... "Are you tired?" She came back with, "I'm just blinking really slow." Huh? Just a long blink. I shoulda known.

5. I'm making excellent progress on The Off-Blue Lagoon. I'd give partial credit to

kazdreamerfor saying such nice things about the opening and basically forcing me to keep moving along, but she's so full of herself already, I don't need to add to her publishing stupor.

6. Another story about my youngest. We decided to give her a chore to do. She now has to feed the cat. She was a bit overzealous and the next thing we know... you can't even see the bowl beneath the food. I tried to take a picture of it but it didn't come out very clear.

Oops!

That's the Eyeball photo I meant to post on Saturday. Sorry!

You've been Warned!

2008-06-28T12:16:00Z

I've found what I feel to be the grossest eyeball photo EVER! Even, I, the Eyeball, can hardly look it. I'd love to use it as an icon... but it wouldn't be fair to those with a weak stomach. So PLEASE, only click if you can take gruesome and bloody. PLEASE! Trust me. You've been warned!

Okay! You've passed. You've done it! I knew you could do it!
(I feel like Willy Wonka (in the orginal) after Charlie places the gob-stopper on his desk!)

Oh... and just for the recorded...

Today...

How My Mind's Procrastinating Lately

2008-06-26T12:58:11Z

Okay Everybody (all two of you reading this mumbo-jumbo). It seems my mind is devising new ways of procrastination. Usually its just the following:

Now, remember, this is my brain talking: "You can't write now because:

1. You must check your emails
2. there may be some new posts on LJ
3. you need coffee
4. is that toe jamb?
5. this isn't the right song to write too.
6. Verla's! You haven't lurked there in like fifteen minutes
7. you must check emails again
8. What's that in your belly button?
9. *an egg sizzling in a hot cast iron pan* (Wait! That's my brain on drugs... not talking. Oops!)
10. you haven't researched the effects of prune juice on the human colon
11. oh... there's a bunny outside munching on a clover... better study his habits.
12. chocolate! You need a Take 5 or a Mr. Goodbar stat!
13. wash rinse repeat

I'm sure many of you are familiar with a few of those. But lately THIS has been by brain's fodder...

14. You just wrote a brilliant page of prose, 250 gems... better stop while your ahead.

Now the odds of the words all being gems... or at least one of the words being a gem, are slim to none IMO, but my brain is telling me different so I won't write anything else. My brain is sneaky that way.

Anybody else gettin' this one? Seriously. I'll read over my stuff and say, "Man... that's not bad.... if I keep writing it may quickly turn to suck. Probably best to stop now."

Can't believe it's already Thursday. My hope meter is running on low again. It peeks on Monday and slowly drops throughout the week. Splat!

Hope you all have a good day. Go get writing and stop researching prune juice. And, please people, check your belly button.

You Wanted It! You Got It!

2008-06-25T12:47:52Z

Okay… Here is the ‘The Airport Story’

This is NON-fiction. A TRUE story. It happened a few weeks ago to someone I know, but I will not reveal any names, as if any of you would know this person, but with Google… you never know who may stop by. So…

First… The Setup. This woman (sweet as can be, we’ll call her Lady X) is heavy-set and nearly 65 years old. A few months ago, while on a vacation, her bowels ruptured and she nearly died. She spent a month and a half in the hospital. She got out about six-eight weeks ago, but she still has a colostomy bag and she’s very weak.

The Story:

A few weeks ago, Lady X had to go to California to get her mother (age 85). Her mother is very unbalanced and very small. She can only move long distances in a wheelchair. So, as weak and feeble as she was feeling, Lady X gets her mother to the airport. Oh… this is important… the only way her mother would move back to Ohio is if she could bring her cat. (Yeah… a cat… they’re a dime a dozen. Right? Jeez!)

So… when this plus-sized Lady X ambles up to security, huffing and puffing as she pushes her 85 year old mother in a wheelchair holding a pet carrier, you’d think security would just wave them by. Well… you’d be wrong for thinking that. These two ladies could be terrorists in disguise. A really good cover. Who’d suspect them?

“We have to run the carrier through the scanner, ma’am,” the security guard says and burps into his closed hand. He’s awful polite.

Lady X, very tired from the trip, hoists the cat and carrier off her mother’s lap and is about to place it on the conveyor belt.

“Hold it!” the chubby security guard holds up a fat hand, powdered sugar clings between his fingers. “The cat can’t go through.”

“The cat hates me,” Lady X declares. Lady X is correct when she states the cat hates her. This cat has only ever known her mother and does not do well with strangers. And, right at that moment, in the carrier, it is growling. It is not happy to be here.

“Sorry.” The guard notices the powder sugar and lacquers his pink/gray tongue over his digits, savoring the taste. “You have to take the cat out.”

Lady X puts the cage back on her mother’s lap, walks around the wheelchair, undoes the latches and, reluctantly, reaches inside and grabs the fur ball. It hisses and claws, but Lady X finally gets hold of it.

The security guard is nice enough to grab the carrier and place it on the belt. Maybe, he thinks, there’s a bomb in it. He’s a nitwit. A Nit. Wit.

And, guess what? Go on… guess? Yep! The cat freaks out, squirms out of the arms of Lady X and bolts through the airport.

Lady X’s mother begins to shriek as her best friend dashes off into the crowd. The rotund security guard just stares, thinking about a funnel cake or elephant ear he may have for lunch. Or a light snack. Lady X, exhausted, begins to chase down the cat.

Surely someone will help her catch the feline. Surely one of the other airport patrons will participate in assisting her chase down the cat. Nope! For the next twenty minutes she corners the cat, it escapes. She corners the cat, it escapes. Finally… she corners the cat and grabs it. She can hardly stand up now, but she has to get back to her mother and the cage.

The cat isn’t pleased with its capture. Can you believe it? And it begins to claw and bite Lady X on the hand and wrist. Lady X, wearing a nice white dress, begins to bleed. Profusely. The medication she’s on makes her blood thin and it won’t stop once it starts. Her dress gets splattered with blood as the cat continues to rip at her flesh.

No one helps her.

Finally, nearly stumbling, covered in blood, she gets the cat back in the carrier.

No one helps her.

She needs to wash up and get something to stop the bleeding, so she goes into the nearest bathroom. While walking to the restroom, she feels a warmth on her legs… has the blood already saturated her undergarments? Hm.

Once in the bathroom, she checks her legs. It’s not blood. Her colostomy bag has broken open and spilled its contents all over her dress, her legs, and the floor. A trail leads out the bathroom door.

Thankfully, she brought an extra bag. She does her best to clean herself up. When she gets back to her mother and the cat, a few EMT guys have arrived and treat her wounds. But they can’t treat her mental wounds. And where were they about twenty minutes ago. Bastards!

When Lady X finally gets home, her husband takes her to the ER. They give her IVs and antibiotics for the cat bites; they check her bowels for any new tears. She’s okay, but her hand swells up like a balloon from the cat saliva.

I saw her the other day and she’s doing fine now. But that had to be the worst airport story I’ve ever heard. If you can top it… please post. I’d love to read it.

The End.

We Have A Winner!

2008-06-24T19:12:31Z

As many of you have seen... posted here...

http://salamet.livejournal.com/228474.html

The baby was born today! 3 weeks early! Can I get some more !! Yes!! And !! Even more !!

Sam Roy was born at 9:54 a.m. June 24th

And the winner of the valuable prizes as guessed here...

http://brian-ohio.livejournal.com/95000.html

is none other than robinellenHer guess - July 1 -- 5:30 am - girl was the closest.

I know she had the sex of the baby wrong, but it was a contest to guess the day and time. So Robin wins! Sadly she has already been interviewed by Leon Lipton and my WIP opening is just about ready to send to her. So she wins chocolates!

Robin... I'll get your address when I email you my opening in a bit. Congratulations!!!! And thank you everyone for playing!

And CONGRATS to Megan, Daddy and the rest of the bunch!

Monday Blabble

2008-06-23T12:46:21Z

Rootbeer Ice Cream… I like it.

My middle daughter had a dance recital yesterday. She’s got short hair so we had to attach hair extensions so she could wear the head piece. About thirty seconds into the dance it started to fall off. She was quick, got it off and when she was close to the edge of the stage, tossed it aside. Still… I felt bad for her, but she handled it well.

Oh. My. Gosh. I have an airport story to rival all airport stories. Not sure if I should share it here. It’s not my story and it’s kinda… well, disgusting. I will have a mental debate with myself as to whether to share.

There’s not much I can talk serious about with my youngest. But this morning, we had a heart to heart about poop. Length, width… everything. (She’s been having troubles in that department, but feeling better.)

I can’t believe that no agents or editors have snatched up robinellenyet. She writes sooooo well (I’ve read three of her books… well, I’m halfway finished with the third.) She writes with such grace. I think she just hasn’t found the right editor/agent for the right story yet. But I’m tellin’ you… it won’t be long.

Why don’t Canadian Geese stay in Canada? And why don’t these stupid birds FLY over the road instead of walk? Actually, they really don’t walk… they slowly meander across the street, not a care in the world. Bastards!

Finished the first chapter of The Off-Blue Lagoon in 1^st POV and I think it works. Now… what will my critiquers think? I can’t wait to hear.

32 days to Conestoga! Am I the only one SUPER excited about this event? I cannot wait and I haven’t even seen the programming for it yet. I will be surrounded by publishing royalty. And like it!

Went to a wedding on Saturday Night. My wife noted that she hasn’t seen so many boobs ready to fall out in a long time. And it was the older ladies…

Lately the radio is riddled with songs I CANNOT allow my daughters to listen to. Kinda pathetic. Can’t even mention the titles.

What Superhero Am I - Stolen from Kazdreamer

2008-06-21T12:18:14Z

I must say... I was a bit thrilled with the results.

You are -The EYEBALL

The Eyeball		62%
Mermaid Man		10%
Barnacle Boy		10%
Miss Bug		10%
She-Guy		1%
Yak Slayer		1%
Mike Wazowski		15%
Lynda Carter		5%
Ash Williams (Evil Dead)		5%
Superman		n/a
Batman		-19%

You are spherical,
cracked with red veins, and
have cycloptic vision.

Summer Five (Through Pictures and Words)

2008-06-20T12:01:24Z

First... thanks to all who played the "

salamet gives birth game". I'll post a tally sheet next week... then, just like in the publishing industry... we WAIT! (Why do we always have to WAIT!)

Tomorrow is the first day of summer. Hooray! Of course I'll waste every minute of every gorgeous day wondering/hoping/praying/checking/worrying/ about you know what. Hooray Again! I'm officially a Nitwit!

But let's not focus on my neurotic behavior. Seriously. I don't want to talk about it. Much.

1. Summer means tanning. Finally... I can mow the lawn with my shirt off. Here... I'll give you a little teaser of what the neighbors get to see once or so a week.

2. I remember when I was little, summer time meant piano lessons. With the windows open, the humid air would saturate the keys and make it nearly impossible to play a tune. I found an old picture of my brother at the piano. That's me in the foreground after I'd just finished my three hour session. (My mom was a stickler about practice.) You can tell by my brother's expression that he found me sort of odd looking. And this was just after I had corrective body surgery! It still hurts to look at this picture.

3. Summer time means cold, delicious drinks.

4. Summer time means parades (I used this picture before, but it's a classic.)

5. And summer time means thunderstorms. I love it when it storms at night and I can sit back with a good book and read and listen to the soothing sounds and spectacular light show. Very cool!

Guess the time of Birth Update!

2008-06-19T22:39:09Z

Too late... salamet had it! I can't believe it! What a coinci...

What? False labor! Oh... um... gee... then let's do a contest recap so far.

I've added a prize that I forgot I had -

Prizes:
1- You'll get to do an interview with Leon Lipton (if you want)
2 - whatever I have ready to read from my WIP (if you want) I'm including this as a way to force me to keep at it.
3 - HARRY LONDONS CHOCOLATES (1 box of Buckeyes or Mints) This is a local chocolate shop that makes great stuff.

The Current Tally:

brian_ohio- July 11 - 11:52 am - boy
macbeaner - July 20 - 3:21 am - girl
tmthomas - July 30 - 10:14 am - girl
onegrapeshy - complains about brian_ohio golfing (I'd rather write to be honest)
daydreammuse - July 16 - 12:00 am - boy
goth_huntress - July 7 - 12:00 am - girl
arya_darcy - July 21 - 12:00 am - girl
barrieinca - July 18 - 3:44 am - boy
sadieloree - July 5 - 3:30 pm - boy
salamet- July 2 - 6:05, 6:30 am - boys

Guess it and Win!!!! (Look at all those exclamation marks... this oughta be good)

2008-06-19T10:59:29Z

Well... it is good!

I have to go golf today (company business, you know. A little schmoozing with the clients... my forte. NOT!), so I have to do a quick post. Oh... relax! At least I'm posting.

Here we go.

The Contest!

Guess the date and time that salametgives birth to her next adorable child. I believe she's do in mid-July. Also... guess the sex of the child.

And... if you like, post the first and middle name that you think the child should be given.

The Winner will get:

1. An interview with Leon Lipton (that's priceless)
2. The first half of The Off-Blue Lagoon (my WIP) (that's... that's... well, I don't think it's priceless. Yet.)
3. And... (I can't believe this) salametwill name the child after you!***

My Answer:

July 11th at 11:52 a.m. (During the Price is Right Showcase Showdown)

It will be a boy.

I think she should name the boy 'Brian Bryan' (in honor of myself and ljuser_zero, two of the most... I'm at a loss here, but we're definitely two of the most something.)

Your turn!

***I haven't actually checked if this is okay... but I'm assuming it is. That's not wrong... is it?

A Question for Fun

2008-06-18T12:29:49Z

I'm sure this question has been asked on numerous Blogs numerous times, but I love to hear other people's thoughts about it.

Question:
What book, that you've read in the last year, would you love to see made into a movie?

Bonus Question:
What theater snack would you eat while you watched?

My Answer:

I just can't get the imagery and the mystic of this novel out of my mind. I imagine a sweeping historical movie filled with mystery and magic.

And I'd eat Good and Plenty with a Diet Coke.

Play if you want to or have the time. If you don't... blech!!!!

My Last Chronic Joe Teaser - Promise!

2008-06-17T13:38:09Z

Title - Chronic Joe and the Head of Vlad the Slayer - MG humorous fantasy adventure

The Setup: Chronic Joe (age 14), Foulpus the Cyclops, Rupple the Leprechaun, Ameila-daughter to Vlad, Aggy-wife of Vlad are shackled and hanging from chains in the ruins of Fazackerly Castle. Vlad's head is on a pedestal just below them. Charmrot has invited the wife and son of Farmer Jones, one of her henchman, to watch her destroy them all.

“Welcome, guests!” Charmrot said as the woman and son tiptoed back to center stage.

“What have you done to my husband?” the straw-hatted woman asked.

“Miss Jones, your husband has made a deal that will make you rich beyond your wildest dreams,” Charmrot maneuvered her arms, creating an imaginary rainbow over her head.

“Well… he never asked me for permission,” the woman snipped.

“I want popcorn!” the boy wailed into her shoulder.

“Take these people away, Hag!” Vlad said. He’d been very quiet. “Release the others. At the very least… my dearest Aggy.”

“Hey!” Amelia cried, stretching out her foot and trying to tip her father's head off the pillar. “I knew you never loved me! I knew it!” Her chains rattled as she continued to try and connect her toes with the blonde locks of her father.

“Oh, Vlad!” Aggy continued to cry. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“Mother! How can you say that! He killed good men for you. Men with families.”

“I know… he stopped though. Stopped at Grimm! Isn’t that sweet!”

“Ah!” Amelia gave up and her body went slack.

At least the goings-on kept Joe’s mind from his impending death.

“Now… regarding your impending deaths!” Charmrot shouted.

“Who’s the head?” The straw-hatted woman asked. The boy was wiping at his eyes, now looking at them as he would a captured dragon, had dragons still existed.

“That’s the head of the slayer. Vlad the slayer. A man of lies and deceit.” Charmrot tilted her head back and laughed… then crumpled to the floor.

Immediately Osteo and Farmer Jones were at her side and helping her up. She came round more quickly this time.

Foulpus lurched his foot and hit Joe’s knee.

“What?” Joe asked, suddenly irritable. If he could only have just a little more time. Another chance. He’d approach things differently.

“He’s just a head, mommy!” And the boy giggled. “That’s…” he sniffed and ran his little wrist beneath his wet, snotty nose. “That’s silly!”

“Curse you, boy!” Vlad said.

“Vladimir Moses Caspar. Don’t you take it out on that young man,” Aggy snapped.

“Oh, Mother!” Amelia added.

“Young Fletcher,” Charmrot said in her lullaby tone. Osteo and Farmer Jones stood behind her now like bodyguards. “Who would you like to see drop into the bawls of Hell first?” Charmrot fluttered the boy’s wispy black hair, leaving him looking like major bed-head.

The boy placed a finger to his lips, glancing around at all of them. His mother kept looking back at her husband, Farmer Jones. The tall, skinny man was focused on Charmrot, arms tensed in case the Hag suddenly passed out again. Joe wondered if she was just sick or tired. Or both.

“Um.” The little boy licked his lips. “How about that one!” He pointed to Rupple.

“Aye, little lad. Yer makin’ a big mistake. Yer ma and pa are leadin’ ye don’t a crooked road. Don’t ‘cha be followin’ them.”

“Make him stop yellin’ at me, Mama!” The boy tucked his head into the nape of the woman’s neck.

“You heard the boy!” Charmrot shouted to the roof, her hands cupped around her mouth. “Release the chains furthest right.”

The wood paneled hatch over Foulpus slid open and a pair of cadavers stared down, behind them the clouds boiled and rolled across the darkness. Lightening flashed.

“My right… your left!” Charmrot shouted, then glanced back at Osteo as if he were responsible for the blunder. Osteo toyed with his jaw bone.

Cats? Dogs? How about Horses? And Writing Stuff. A 'Have It All' Monday!

2008-06-16T13:44:55Z

Thumbelina - World's Smallest Horse.

This horse was in town a few weeks ago. They bring it around to raise money for charities. Thumbelina visited a local equestrian farm that caters to handicapped and mentally challenged kids.

http://www.worldssmallesthorse.com/

Also... Here's a restaurant you cat lovers may enjoy.

On Writing:

I'm definitely going to Tweak my WIP to first POV. I will then give opening chap to my wife and a few lucky critters to see if I got VOICE, baby! Yeah! VOICE! At this point, assuming the critters are being honest, I will decide if I need to switch the POV. I'm basically 3/4's done with my MC POV. Then I'll weeve in the Antag POV, finishing with a novel of about 70,000 words which I want to cut to 55,000 to 60,000 in its final form.

One last thing...

Also, I received a nice reply to an email I sent to Adrienne Kress. She wrote the book Alex and the Ironic Gentlemen. She actually swung by my Blog and Website and had nice things to say about me. (Go figure!) When she asked if I had any published works ("I clicked on the 'books' link and nothing appeared" to quote her) I... I... battled back the tears and typed in... "Not yet... but soon. Soon I say! Soon!!!! You can't stop me! I swear! Or you will all PAY dearly!"

She had nice things to say about Rachel as well.

I doubt she ever responds to me again after that little tirade. But go get her book if you have kids or want to read a great MG. She has another book called Timothy and the Dragon's Gate coming in January 2009.

Here is her website: http://www.adriennekress.com/

Kazdreamer

2008-06-15T12:55:54Z

kazdreamer

HAPPY BIRTHDAY KAREN!!!!!

I used to write poetry when I was younger. Pretty good I must say. So I created a Birthday Poem just for you:

Convince Yourself

Convince yourself that the grass isn't very green
that the Artic isn't very cold
that the speed of light isn't very fast
And that thirty-five isn't very old

Just like you used to read Tarot cards... I can foresee the future. And here is an image I captured from the not-to-distant future of your LJ persona:

This has Got to Stop!

2008-06-15T01:23:11Z

People! For the first time tonight... I witnessed it first hand. Yep! First hand! And I don't like it!

Boys were staring at my teenage twin daughters. Staring at them. And not because they're odd.

We Interrupt My Previous Post

2008-06-13T12:58:57Z

Happy Birthday Jeaniene Frost!!!! aka frost_light

If I lived closer... I'd deliver this beautiful cake to you myself.

I hope you have a great day!

Friday Five or Six... I'm too tired to count. Ugh!

2008-06-13T12:28:42Z

1. Jeez. I feel beat up this morning. Honestly. Obviously some muscular guy came into my bedroom and beat the crap out of me last night. You know... I had dreams last night. WEIRD dreams. And I can remember a lot about them. I've been told that if you are dreaming (I mean dreams you can recall clearly) you're not getting rest. Your body is getting rest... but not your mind. I think that's true. That would explain why I feel like *beep* this morning.

2. I'm reading all sorts of books now... having trouble staying focused on one. These aren't the books on my TBR pile, but books I'm reading to try and grasp the YA/MG thing. I picked up The Absolute Diary of a Part-Time Indian yesterday only because I knew I would have to wait in the car to pick up a number of my kids. This book is da bomb! And now I'm wondering (as many of you have about your projects) if I should change my WIP to 1st POV. And what about a book with a 1st POV protag and a 3rd POV antag? Would that be okay?

3. *Intentionally left blank until I can think of some crap to write in here* (Bet you can't wait!)

4. I'm thinking of wallpapering my garage door. Has anyone attempted this? No! Here is what I have in mind.

5. Today, we have warnings for everything. But have we really reached this point...

That's it. I'm going to take some aspirin...

Congrats and Randoms

2008-06-12T13:46:16Z

1. Anybody else read the Skullduggery Pleasant books by Derek Landy? I find them quite good… and very, very similar to my own type of writing. And I’m insanely jealous, of course. Still… I’m going to buy these in paperback and go at them with my highlighters, try and see how and why they work so well.

2. Tara Kelly is still conducting her ‘Road to Publication’ interviews over at Tara Tracks.

http://thetaratracks.com/blog/

Although she’ll never be able to duplicate the delectability of her second interviewee, I give her kudos for trying. ;-)

This time it’s Scott Tracey. He’s a talented guy who lives it a great, great State (We should get together Scott, you’re only like an hour away. What? Are you scared?)

Here is a link to Scott’s Blog. I’m sure his book will get picked up soon.

http://legionfalcon.livejournal.com/

3. And speaking of Tara… She’s got sorta/kinda good news to share. Go check it out.

http://tlcadence.livejournal.com/

4. Congratulations to blackaire, my agent sister, for her sale on her super-hero book she co-wrote with Jackie Kessler.

http://blackaire.livejournal.com/203472.html

5. I’d also like to thank Leon Lipton for tolerating Robin’s rude behavior during their interview yesterday. I was sitting off stage and couldn’t believe how impolite Robin could be. I mean… she wouldn’t even point out that hardened crusty object dangling from his cavernous nostril. Hmmrrph! Leon’s still put off.

6. I’m wondering what to wear at Conestoga! Will it be casual? Will it be professional? Will I need my Depends? I’ll be meeting my agent for the first time and I want to make an incredible impression on her. I’ve thought about breaking out my Gene Simmons demon boots and throwing on my KISS makeup. But that may be over the top.

7. I used to love to play Monopoly as a kid. Me and my friends (Yeah… I had a couple. No… I didn’t have to pay them. Much.) would spend lots of rainy summer days playing those marathon games. Last night I played with one of my daughters… and it seemed to take forever. Seriously. After twenty minutes I was like… uh, we haven’t even purchased half the properties. Hm. Just another sign of the time of my impatience. I kept thinking… I need to check my emails… it’s been twenty FRIGGIN minutes!

Inside the Writer's Studio - Robin

2008-06-11T15:26:58Z

Preface: This interview is conducted by Leon Lipton, the unknown/unwanted brother of James Lipton - the host of Inside the Actor's Studio.

*camera is off*

“Feel how smooth my legs are, Robin.” Leon Lipton tugs up his Richard Simmons’ shorts, exposing a pasty white thigh.

“Gross!” Robin covers her mouth, trying to not to get sick. Leon’s legs are covered with red bumps, like little blood blisters.

Leon looks at the camera, the red light is still off. “I know it looks bad, but I used Nair instead of shaving. They’re really smooth.” Leon drags his hands up his leg enticingly.

“I thought I was here to be interviewed.” Robin closes her eyes, wondering why she volunteered for this.

Leon glances at her, his eyes now pooled with bitter saltiness. A dried something is dangling from his nose by a very long hair. He reminds Robin of a James Lipton after getting beaten with an ugly stick. An ugly rock. And then spattered with ugly acid.

“I’m sorry if I’ve embarrassed you, Robin.” Leon whaps his thighs together, bits of blood spurt from the now open sores.

From off stage a voice states, “We’re on in five… four…”

Leon burps. Robin smells Blue Cheese Dressing and Anchovies. It’s only eight in the morning.

The red light on the camera comes to life.

“Hello!” Leon sits prim and proper, “Welcome to Inside the Writers Studio.” Leon tilts his head back and laughs. Robin stares at the camera in disbelieve. The camera man is eating a Twinkie. “I’m sitting here with

robinellen

.” Leon looks at Robin.

Robin smiles, trying to keep from running off stage. They’re in an empty auditorium, the red velvet seats are all torn, the aisles gleam from spilled soda pop and other liquids Robin would prefer not to think about. It’s hot and sticky. Pills of sweat sprout on Leon’s huge, bulbous forehead. He continues to stare at Robin as though expecting her to talk.

And stares.

“What!” Robin grips her hands into tight fists.

“Oh!” Leon’s chapped lower lip trembles like a toddler scolded for playing with gasoline and matches. “I thought you’d like to introduce yourself.”

“Isn’t that your job, James…er.” Robin's eyes widen in horror. “I mean, Leon.” Robin cringes when Leon’s whole face collapses and he falls into her lap, cupping his head and bawling.

“I hate him! I hate him! I hate him!” Leon’s muffled voice creeps out from between his fingers.

“I’m sorry.” Robin tries to get the camera man’s attention, but he’s currently licking the creamy filling from his Twinkie from his fingers. “Your brother is a fake, Leon. A fraud. A loser.”

Leon slowly sits up, wiping his eyes. That crusty thing still hangs from his nose hair.

“Really. You mean that?” Leon asks.

“Oh, my, yes.” Robin says, thankful Leon is no longer touching her. “I’ve rarely watched his show… and those stupid questions. So pointless.”

“Yes!” Leon sits nice and straight. “They are pointless.”

Robin offers him a friendly smile, though her stomach feels like Mary Lou Retton in mid Olympic routine.

Leon looks into the camera, a new man. “Let’s get to the meat of the interview, shall we. We know Robin is an awesome and talented writer, but we need to know how she goes about her craft. What makes her tick? Let’s get to my traditional rapid fire 10 question interview. Are you ready, Robin?”

Robin mumbles, “God help me,” then says more clearly, “It’d be a pleasure.”

1. Are part-time band leaders semi-conductors? Only if they’re current.

2. If you could ask brian_ohio any question regarding his age, and the answer had to be a single digit number between the numbers 3 and 5, what question would you ask him? Oh, the pressure…okay, at what age did you learn to pee standing up?

3. What happens if you take No-doze and wash it down with Nyquil? Sleep-induced vomiting?

4. Do jellyfish get gas from eating jellybeans? Only if they stick them up their noses.

In the tradition of crappy TV journalism:

5. If someone really close to you was hurt badly… how would you feel? Worse than the jellyfish with jellybeans up their noses, that’s for sure!

6. When cheese gets its picture taken, what does it say? Pizza!

7. What are the germs that cause ‘good’ breath? Spearitosis.

8. Sort of stolen from my brother – James Lipton: Using the weird symbols on the keyboard, how do you spell your favorite curse word? %$^*&^$#$@$^&*!!!

9. Why don’t we just call dried grapes dried grapes? Why don’t we call dried apricots apraisins?

10: Trademark question: What if the hokey pokey really is what it’s all about? Then my right foot must be out. (And my left one too….)

“Wow!” Leon leans back and laughs. His chair collapses and he falls to the stage floor. His red shorts ride up extremely high. “Oh, my!” He recovers nicely, leaping to his feet. “I think we’ve learned some very important things about writing and how Robin prefers to attack a manuscript. Very revealing. Thank you, Robin.” Leon looks around. “Robin?” Leon catches the tail end of Robin disappearing through the Stage left exit.

“Well,” Leon’s legs are crackled with streams of dried blood, “Please join us next time for Inside the Writers Studio. And, to my brother, James… try and top that interview, baby.” Leon licks the tips of his fingers then touches his behind and makes a hissing sound.