That's the journey of a writer, long and winding. Ups and downs, rejections, joys, acceptance, laughter, tears, community, and yet a sense of loneliness. The road is bumpy, often full of potholes, and yet it's one we gladly follow, for we are writers and writing is a part of our soul. Join me on my journey.
I'm supposed to do a blog post, aren't I? Sorry, I got involved in reading and then the ceiling in my bathroom began to leak and I had to wait for maintenance, and now I'm rambling. Yep, it's been a rambling kinda day. Let's see, pictures. Yes Susan, there will be pictures. As soon as I finish getting the apartment all together and that will be soon since I'm having company the 2nd through the 5th. So for Glenice, it will be done. And don't tell me not to worry about it either, missy. I want this apartment put together, I just haven't had the incentive to do it - now I do. You, plus the party. Plus I need to get new batteries as the rechargable part of these has plum worn out. But there will be pictures. Are you satisfied Susan (and Joan, 'cuz I know you're lurking out there). Alas, there were no pictures taken of my braids. Funny how I seem to get out of having my picture taken. There is one though that my friend Sunshine, from work, managed to take of me at the Irish Festival in March. Here, are you satisfied? At least my five chins aren't showing. Savor it, 'cuz it will probably be the last one you see unless I lose a few more pounds.
Thank you all for being an amazing part of my blog experience and The Clarity of Night!
I'm writing tonight to announce the grand opening of a companion blog. It’s a candlelit place called Night Conversations (http://nightconversations.blogspot.com/). Here's the concept.
In important parts of our lives, many of us struggle with feelings of isolation, of being misunderstood. Night Conversations is a place where anonymous participants spend a evening with me talking and delving into those feelings. No advice. No judgment. Just a person who wants nothing more than to listen and understand.
Stop over and share the first of the Night Conversations with me. If you like what you see, I'd be grateful for any mention, or even a review, that you would be willing to do on your own blogs. I'd love to see Night Conversations spread like a more personal version of Post Secret.
The comfy chair is open for anyone out there who like to participate. Thanks!
--Jason Evans
Not a whole lot going on with me. I seem to have become the MySpace page designer of choice. LOL First I did Bebo's, then the Jill Shalvis Fan Page, then my cat Bubba (yes, Bubba has a page, want to see it? Click here. Now remember, you don't have to be a member of MySpace to look at his page.) Then my two pages, yes two. One for me and one for Bailey. Now my cousin Joan wants me to design her page. Maybe I need to start charging. LOL
Here's a little video for your Monday. Please excuse the first scene, but the rest is great - especially the talking cats.
Hi sweety! Remember me? (Nope.) What’s so funny? (Just the thought of me missing spam.) Just you and my rubber duckie. (Don’t get that duck near me!) Most popular jang enlargement (A rubber duckie can … wait, I don’t want to know) Bebo showcases at SXSW! (She does what?) Check out this huge ass. (She’s going to get you for that.) Don’t look! (Make up your mind. First I’m supposed to check it out, then I’m not supposed to look. Sheesh.) Your academic qualification expired. (They’ll have to pry that diploma out of my cold, dead hands.) Remember youth. (Barely) When I was your age, we had eight inch floppies. (I’m sorry. Maybe you need a rubber duckie?)
I also have some great news (for me). I have a new car!! Well, not new, it's a 2000, but it's newer than the POS Mazda that I was driving and in much better shape. It was Bebo's car. Saturday, she bought a new one and I was able to buy her Saturn SL2 from her. It's grey/silverish and it has a CD player! Okay, I miss my moon roof, but hey, a CD player people!
So, what's up with you? Is there a movie coming out that you're really excited about?
My name is Bailey Stewart and I’m a book addict. For about 2 years I have been on the straight and narrow, like a good book addict should. But on Saturday, April 12, I fell off the book mobile. I went to Borders. I had a gift certificate from Christmas that I had saved to buy the new Jim Butcher book.
I was only going to buy it and a non-fiction book or two. Yeah, and an alcoholic is only going to have one drink. I ended up spending about $175. Yes you read that right. Of course, a few were hardcovers which do cost more, but still … It really all started a couple of days ago when I was having a conversation with a customer. Somehow the subject of my history degree came up and she asked if I’d read any good history books lately. Ummm, no? I haven’t touched non-fiction for a couple of years. So I decided to correct this and pick up a couple of non-fiction tomes. Yeah, and there’s nothing mentally wrong with Brittany Spears. I did buy some fiction other than the Dresden book: Annette Blair’s My Favorite Witch and The Scot, the Witch and the Wardrobe; Lucy Monroe’s Three Brides for Three Bad Boys; Barbara Pierce’s Naughty by Nature. Also, CSI: Crime Scene Investigation: In Extremis by Ken Goddard, and a novel about Robert Frost, who is my favorite poet. But it’s the non-fiction that I’m looking forward to reading.
So, how about you? What book did you buy last? What are you reading now? What book are you most looking forward to reading? Fiction vs. Non-fiction?
The biggest butt! (Excuse me? Yours isn’t much better fella.) After you open this letter you will need to purchase big condom. (What’s in it, magic seeds?) Be damn good in it. (That would have to be one large condom.) It was said on TV and written in magazines. (Well it must be true then.) Whip out a huge pecker. (Oh no, Woody gone wild!) Your next timepiece will be your companion for life. (I think this was meant for my neighbors.) What an ass! (My neighbors or my big butt?) Hello, this is a job offer from LUGANO. (Got benefits?)
My name is Bailey Stewart and I'm a reality show addict. Really. Reality. Who'da thunk. I live in a world of dreams and fantasy, creating stories in my mind, and yet ... I'm drawn to these shows. Tuesday night is no exception. I have American Idol, followed by the results show of Dancing With the Stars. And then, something I've been waiting for ever since I first saw it advertised ... Secret Talents of the Stars. Yikes! I cringe and yet at the same time I am utterly fascinated, sort of like when I'm channel surfing and pause at Jerry Springer. Why? Where do they find these people? But I digress, Secret Talents of the Stars. Like Danny Bonaduce has nothing else to do. Oh wait, he doesn't. Here's CBS' official blurb:
SECRET TALENTS OF THE STARS, a weekly celebrity talent show that reveals the unknown talents of sixteen well-known personalities. Each week, celebrities will compete in a tournament-structured format to determine who has the BEST unknown talent. Each performer on SECRET TALENTS OF THE STARS will fulfill his/her dream by practicing, and then performing live. Each performance will be critiqued by three judges - but it's the viewers who get to vote for the celebrity that has impressed them the most. Each week, the "Viewer Vote" will determine which celebrities move on in the competition, and who will go home.
Got it? Okay, here's the celebs and their talents:
Joshua Morrow from The Young and the Restless. He'll juggle. WhooPee! *sigh* Oh, wait! It's rock and roll juggling. Huh?
Cindy Margolis, an actress and model will do magic. Be still my heart ...
Sasha Cohen, Olympic figure skater is secretly a contortionist. Who'da thunk?
Ray Jones, Jr., a boxer who thinks he can rap. We'll see.
Bridget Marquardt, a Playboy Bunny. Guess what? She can bungee jump and jump on a trampoline. That's a talent?
Clint Black (the first one listed that didn't need any introduction) is a stand-up comedian. Country Western music about loving and losing vs. comedy. This could be interesting.
Danny Bonaduce, child star who can't seem to ... um, let go. He can ride a unicycle. Didn't anybody watch Dancing With the Stars on Monday? So can Adam what's-his-name.
Sheila E., one of the most talented percussionist/drummers in the music world. She's got rhythm, right? She can juggle too. Joshua or Sheila, who is better? Stay tuned to As the Stars Turn.
Wrestler Ric Flair salsa dances! Who? Sorry folks, not a wrestling fan. You'll have to turn to Lis for that one. Salsa? Oooookay!
Legendary Boxing champion Joe Frazier is going to sing R&B. Now, I am kinda looking forward to this. Stand-up comedy and singing - that's talent. Even Rap is a talent. Unicycle? Juggling - well, okay, yeah it takes a certain sense of balance, etc. but come on people.
Marla Maples, the ex-Mrs. Donald Trump. Talk about not letting go of their 15 minutes. What can Ms. Maples do besides look pretty? She can do gymnastics. And who said she wasn't flexible?
Jo Dee Messina. Talented Country Western Singer. There's a song of her's that I can't remember the name of, but I love it. Anyway, her talent is described as hip-hop meets step dance. What? Hmmm, could be interesting ... could be a disaster.
Mya, a singer I've never heard of, is going to do one of my favorites - she's going to tap dance. I love tap dancing. I have nothing sarcastic to say about this.
Ben Stein, who obviously is done giving away his money, is going to Swing Dance? Memories of Jerry Springer dance in my head.
Cosby alum, Malcolm-Jamal Warner (who I secretly think is kinda hot) - Original Song (Bass & Vocals). Now, that could be interesting.
And last, but not least ...
George Takei. Yes, Sulu. I'm surprised he's not doing comedy. Really. I saw him on Thank God You're Here (and if you never caught this one - it was funny) and he was hysterical. But no, what is the 71 year old Star Trekker going to do? Sing Country Music. In front of Clint Black and Jo Dee Messina. Brave soul. Or senility. You choose.
So there you have it - the cast of Secret Talents of the Stars. Now, unlike other celeb-filled reality shows (Dancing With the Stars included), this one actually has some real celebs instead of wannabes, has beens and "who?". Clint Black, Jo Dee Messina, Sasha Cohen, Joe Frazier, and Sheila E.
Yes, I am Bailey Stewart, and I will be glued to the tube at 9:00 pm cdt.
I found it! This is the song by Jo Dee Messina that I love
Bebo and I attended Scarborough Faire, a Renaissance Festival just south of Dallas. This is its 28th year and the first year I had attended. Bebo had gone in years past, but not for about the last 16. We'd been promising to go for around 14 and decided that this year we'd go. Was it fun? I spent the day with Bebo, bought some great stuff. But fun? Not better than the North Texas Irish Festival. I hurt. We were only on our feet for about 5 1/2 hours and they ache. I'm used to being on my feet for 7 1/2 hours and they have never hurt this much. They have these stone walkways - not gravel really, more like little garden stones, chunks here and there. Stepping on them not only made walking a little hazardous (you've stepped on a little rock and had your foot turn, haven't you?), but each step would thrust one of those little stones through my tennis shoe bottom. I probably have little bruises all over the bottom of my feet. And it was really kinda ... boring? While the NTIF has music everywhere, bands on stage almost every half hour in different venues throughout the area, Scarborough had some traveling musicians, or a single player singing outside of a shop. It was almost silent, except for the occasional shouts from the "barkers" and maybe a sword fight here and there. I did get my hair braided - it looks pretty. Too bad it won't last. Oh well, at least I can finally say that I've been to the faire, but I doubt I'll be going back.
Is it you? (Were you expecting Hugh Jackman? ‘Cuz I was.) Feeling Short? (Listen spam, start making comments about my height and this session is over) CONGRATULATIONS YOU ARE A LUCKY WINNER!!! (As opposed to an unlucky winner?) Lengthen your bell-rope and you will have sex with any girlfriend you want. (Listen Quasimodo, shouldn’t you be leaving other people’s girlfriends alone?) I wanted to breakup another’s relationship. (Obviously) I felt guilty (Why let that bother you now?) I tore her clothes apart (Oh, I hate when that happens) I felt like I owed it to the person (That makes perfect sense now. I always feel like I owe people tattered clothes)
Main Entry: truck Function: noun Etymology: probably back-formation from truckle small wheel Date: 1611 3: a wheeled vehicle for moving heavy articles: as a: a strong horse-drawn or automotive vehicle (as a pickup) for hauling
That’s Webster’s definition of a truck. My definition is quite different. I hate them. No, let me be more specific. There is one certain pickup truck that I hate. Totally. I can see the headline now:
Aspiring Author Arrested for Truckocide. Suspect allegedly smashed truck to smithereens with a tire iron, all the while yelling “die you effing truck, die!”
It’s not really the trucks fault. I’m sure it’s a fine upstanding truck. In fact, it may have little trucks to support. I don’t care. I hate it. Sitting out there so innocent looking. No one would believe how evil it is. And it is evil, don’t doubt about that one bit. It’s either parked on one side or the other of my bedroom window, sometimes right smack dab in front of it. And it hates me as much as I hate it. I’m positive about that one. Otherwise, why would its alarm go off at all hours of the night and early morning? Why else would it do it especially the night before I have to get up for work? And believe you me, it’s not just night when it lets itself be heard. It went off several times today, breaking the silence with its shrill siren and incessant horn hocking. Did I mention incessant? Aggravating? I’m going to end up flipping out one night and charging out my patio door, tire iron waving in the humid Texas night as I climb hysterically over the patio fence. Then it’ll be just the truck and I. And the tire arm. I’m betting on me.
BTW, I've been busy putting together a MySpace fan page for Jill. Head on over to see it. Let me know what you think. It's 99% done and I'm waiting for Jill to crawl out from the deadline cave (Monday I hope) to finish the little bit that's left. You don't have to be a member of MySpace to look at the page.
Sorry folks, I'm drained. This is the best I can do. Have a great Friday!
When man goes along the street and something big sticks out of his jeans … (Alien!! Run!!!) Wipe that smirk off her face (You’re not touching my face) Her breast just spilled out. (Only one?) Some men won’t learn (You got that right) I was drunk (You made more sense drunk than you do sober) I wanted to say “I’m sorry.” (Well why don’t you say it then? Don’t just stand there and say that you wanted to. Sheesh.) Ohio debt consolidation (Ohio’s in debt? It is getting bad, isn’t it?) Make your friend bigger (She’s doing a good enough job on her own.)
So, lest you think that moving was a totally traumatic occurrence, let me assure you that there was plenty of levity to be had; some of it not discovered until after the actual move, but funny nonetheless. In order to tell this story properly, I need to back up a little. When we moved into the house in 1969 there was carpet only in the living room and hall. The three bedrooms were hardwood. My father, coming from the generation that looked upon hardwood floors as an indication of poverty, put carpet in those rooms as soon as possible. This meant that the ends of those three doors had to be cut off. When I removed the carpet, the doors were of course too short and left gaps when closed.
To present day - since moving meant having the front door open, I had to trap BooBear in the bathroom; Bubba and Aidan in the first bedroom. Anyone who has followed this blog for any length of time knows that Bubba doesn’t like to be closed up in a room. He protests quite loudly. Moving day was no exception. It was so funny to see Bubba’s nose and one eye peeking out from under the door. Poor pitiful Bubba, begging with that one eye.
Obviously, we had to unhook the washing machine in order to move it. No problem for the guy who was helping us. He used to be a professional mover. Easy, right? Hmmmm. When he unhooked the hot water, it wouldn’t turn off. Water was squirting everywhere, the floor was flooding and the three of us (Cavin, Bebo and I) were in a panic. The water was scalding his hand and Bebo grabbed some of my clean clothes for him to wrap around his hand as he tried to turn off the valve. I made frantic calls to my cousins who are plumbers. Brother number one didn’t answer. Brother number two did. And laughed. “Go turn off the hot water at the water heater” he gasped when he could. Huh? That’s too obvious, right? Of course that worked. Water was everywhere; a small lake in the middle of the dining room. Cavin was soaked.
Fast forward to me unpacking; I came across a small box that perplexed me. I could have sworn that I had left it on the bathroom counter. I put it on my bar and waited for Bebo to get there. “What is this?” I said as she came in the door. “It’s a light bulb” she answered. “No, it’s not just a light bulb. It’s a garage door opener bulb.” She stared at me. “I left it there on purpose as it’s quite obvious that I don’t have a garage door.” Bebo is a real good packer. In fact, Bebo is a terrific packer. She packs all sorts of things that I wouldn’t need. Like the cover to the smoke alarm in the study at home. What am I going to do with that?
So see, it wasn’t all tears and sorrow, there was laughter involved. Some funny memories to start my new life with.
Oh no!!! I wrote this last night, but was having problems with the internet and kept closing down the computer and rebooting. In the meantime, word, of course, went bye bye and I forgot all about it! Sorry I'm late.
Well we’re here and we sorta have internet. This is the same problem that I was having before I moved. It’s the laptop, refusing to hook up to the router. It also keeps telling me that a network cable is unplugged? Huh? There’s no cable hooked up to it, nor has there ever been. Oh well. Also, at about 8:00 p.m. to 9:00 p.m. it refuses to hook up at all. When my money comes in from the house sale I’m going to have to have it looked at.
The move was traumatic for the cats. First, BooBear was closed up in the bathroom. Bubba and Aidan were put in the Master bedroom and then when the guest room was cleared out, they were moved there. Bubba does not like to be closed up in a room without a human, but we had to do it to keep them from running out the propped open front door. We made a couple of runs from the house to the apartment. We were so tired that we decided to get the cats, go home and then come back the next day to finish up. My niece and her husband were coming to pick up and store the things for my brother so we had to be there anyway. I took a last look around in the closets and noticed something way back on the shelf in the Master. It was a small box. I took it down, opened it up and cried. You see, my mother had this habit of buying gifts, hiding them and then forgetting about them. She’d obviously bought this before the Alzheimer’s set in. I knew it was for me – it was a Purrfect Friends cat tile. It’s beautiful. I didn’t have long to linger over it as the crowd arrived to pick up Dave’s stuff. Then they were gone. Bebo and I put the last few things in our cars and I sent Bebo ahead so I could take a last look around the house alone. It echoed around me and in those echoes I could hear laughter and tears; in the rooms ghosts reached out to me. I stopped at the wall that separated the den from the kitchen. Resting my hand on the paneling, I stood for a moment. You see, when we moved in there, the paneling wasn’t on this particular section of wall. This was where my parent’s measured my growth with penciled lines on the wall. They were still there, underneath the paneling dad installed in the mid-80s. Stepping outside, I looked at the sidewalk my dad put in around that time, the sidewalk where he wrote our names: David (my brother’s step-son), James, Eric, Jenni Lynn and me. I said goodbye to the feral cats – especially Little One, the most friendly. Locking the house, I went next door to say goodbye to Gwen (having said goodbye to Debbie the day before). And then I got in my car, backed out of the drive and stopped at the sound of a shout. The man across the street stepped out from his garage and waved “goodbye”. The people on the corner did the same thing. Ernie on the corner called me over and I stopped. He said goodbye, gave me a hug and sent me on my way. I cried most of the way to the apartment. BooBear was still hiding – on Saturday he had found the bed and crawled under it, not coming out until dark and then back under Sunday morning. He was still under the bed, but Aidan was no longer hissing at Bubba. Bubba took the move just fine, exploring and jumping in boxes. Now a week later, they are all doing fine and adjusting to the constraints of the loss of running room.
I’ll tell you more about the move and the new apartment next time.
I'm closing down the computers for the move and will be off-line until Monday or Tuesday (fingers crossed because you know how "they" like to mess with my internet).
Friday night will be my last night in this house. I'm feeling a bit melancholy tonight. Mostly, I think, because of what this house symbolized. You see, once there was a family of six, now there are three. Once there were family gatherings with in-laws and grandchildren and gr-grandchildren and aunts and uncles and cousins. Now there is only Bebo and I. Once there was a little girl with dreams. Now most of those dreams have slipped by.
Now there will be new dreams, new memories. But I'll always remember that once there was a family. Once.
McCartney and Lennon said it best:
There are places I remember All my life, though some have changed Some forever not for better Some have gone and some remain All these places had their moments With lovers and friends I still can recall Some are dead and some are living In my life I've loved them all
First off, let me say that I am very excited about the future. I am by no means ignoring the things ahead of me. I’m just taking this time to say goodbye to something that has been a haven for me for the last 39 years. This is my closure.
So here are the lasts that I am happy about:
This is the last time I’ll have to struggle with the gate to the alley.
The last time I’ll have to struggle with the sliding glass door that is off its track and difficult because of the shifting foundation.
The last time I’ll have to worry about how I’m going to get the lawn mowed.
The last time I’ll have to deal with those ugly squiggly plant things that fall off of the tree every spring.
Speaking of the tree, it’s the last time I’ll have to deal with the web worms.
The last time I’ll have to put up with things not working.
The last time that I’ll have to watch a bad cable connection and not be able to do anything about it because it’s the lines my father split off from the main line.
I won’t have to clean a three bedroom, two living area, two bath home ever again.
No more messing with a broken garage door.
I have a fireplace, so I won’t have to freeze my butt off next winter because I can’t afford to run the furnace.
I won’t have to put up with those barking dogs next door. Don’t get me wrong, dogs are okay – it’s just these dogs I don’t like.
I won’t ever have to look at the mess that my neighbor has made of her home and yard. She’s a nice lady, but a bit on the trashy side.
This is my last week in the house, so indulge me a little as I spend some time saying goodbye. There are a lot of "lasts" that I'll be experiencing here. The last time I'll close that door, the last time I'll open that cabinet, the last time ... While I'm excited about my new apartment, I'm also sad about leaving my home of almost 39 years. A lot has happened here, laughter as well as tears. Parties, goodbyes, hellos - I grew from child, to adolescent, to adult in this house. A great many people who are no longer with me have crossed its threshold. Their memories all live not only within me, but within these walls. Wedding showers, baby showers, graduation, birthday and anniversary parties. Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter, Memorial Day, Fourth of July, Labor Day, New Years Eve. Oh, the parties we would have. The house filled with people, laughter, conversation, love. Mostly, laughter. My mother and my father both died IN this house. The smells, the sounds - every creek and groan of the house, will be missed. The other day I experienced one of my "last". I woke up that morning to snow, and as I stood there taking pictures I realized that this would be my last snow in this house.
See that tree? My dad planted that tree. My maternal grandmother held it in the hole as he shoveled in dirt. My nephews swung from it. It has shaded me and this house for 25 years. I'll miss it too.
First, the winner of the signed copy of The Heart of the Renegade is Dru!!!! Send me your snail mail address and I'll get it sent off to Loreth.
The answer:
Jacques Sauvage Hunter McBride Rafiq Zayed December Ngomo Grant McDonough Luke Stone and I would even have accepted Dr. Emily Carlin
Now, on to spam.
I changed my male machine length now it’s your turn. (I’m not touching your male machine.) Perfectly crafted luxury pieces. (Not anymore) Brandy be screen saver for you. (She will? Awww, how sweet.) Please do not view. (If Brandy is going to be my screen saver, you can bet I’m going to view.) Take bachelors very fast. (You betcha!) Do you love FREE stuff? (No, I’d much rather pay for it. Sheesh) There are only a few days left. Are you ready? (No!! I haven’t seen Ireland yet!) Sucks huh. (Sucks isn’t the word for it.)
I haven't done one of these in a long time. Today I’m giving away a signed copy of The Heart of a Renegade, the latest in the Shadow Soldiers series by Loreth Ann White. I’m reading this book right now (in between packing for the move) and am enjoying it immensely. Once again, Loreth has transported me to another place and into the lives of two interesting people. Here’s the blurb from the back:
Luke Stone was alone. And he liked it that way. An ex-bodyguard, sworn never to protest again after his last failure, Luke needed no one. Until he met Jessica Chan.
A journalist with a dark past, Jessica had uncovered deadly information that made her a target. And only Luke stood between her and certain death. She was everything he didn’t want: a woman who attracted trouble … and attracted him. But as assassins closed in and emotions ran high, Jessica might become everything he needed …
So what do you have to do to win this book? Simple, you go to Loreth’s webpage and find out the names of all of the Shadow Soldiers and then email them to me at baileystewart at baileystewart dot net. I will draw a name from the correct responses. Please, do not post your answers here. You have until 9:00 pm CST Thursday, March 6. Good luck.
Some readers prefer heroes to use condoms while others say the dose of reality kills all the spontaneity and romance. It’s a debate that repeats all over romance land—to use condoms or not to use condoms—since, after all, it is only fiction…
New Zealand erotic romance author, Shelley Munro took this a step further in her upcoming release Fancy Free, the story of an accountant who inherits a condom company. When Ms. Munro caught an Air New Zealand flight from San Francisco, she came across an advertising article about a new condom on the market. The ideas flowed and by the time she landed in Auckland, she’d outlined her plot for Fancy Free.
It’s not every day a girl inherits a condom company, and to say accountant, Alice Beasley is astonished and out of her depth is putting it mildly. For an almost virgin, she needs a quick education in all things condom because her inheritance is in danger. Someone is intent on sabotage and playing nasty, trying to destroy her new company.
Alice is suddenly getting down and dirty with charismatic James, the factory manager, all in the name of business, testing new condom designs. The sex is hot. Mind-blowing. It’s a dark thrill and an erotic journey. Yeah, it’s a hard job but a girl’s got to do what a girl’s gotta do.
The testing turns personal. Alice wants James. She craves his talented touch and sultry kisses, she desires passion and physical pleasure on a permanent basis but first she must convince bad boy James to give up his fancy free ways.
Note: condoms were tested and a few harmed during the writing of this story.
Fancy Free releases on 7 March 2008 from Ellora’s Cave and is Ms. Munro’s eighteenth release from the pioneer erotic romance publisher.
From the time Shelley Munro was a little girl living in New Zealand, she wanted to be a detective. She read all the Famous Five mysteries by Enid Blyton before graduating to Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys. Her favorite television viewing was Scooby Doo where she, in her invisible guise, helped Scooby solve the crime.
As happens with children, Shelley grew up and boys distracted her from childhood dreams. She found one she really liked and married him, traveling the world at his side until returning to settle in New Zealand to write hot and spicy tales for Ellora’s Cave, some of which contain the odd body or two.
Publishing Notes: Title: Fancy Free Author: Shelley Munro Publisher: Ellora’s Cave ISBN: 9781419913341 Release Date: 7 March 2008 Genre: Contemporary erotic romance Setting: Present day New Zealand
Alicia started her company, Fancy Free on a whim—a business to occupy her time and keep her old school friends busy. Many of Sloan’s residents considered Fancy Free a strange business, and some were plain shocked, but Alicia didn’t believe in following conventions. Condoms were something she knew about. She’d researched them enough, heck, she’d even used a few in her time. Condoms were her passion, and so condoms were what her company produced. On her death, she left her precious company to her god-daughter Alice Beasley.
A snippet from Alicia’s collection of condom notes:
One size does not fit all. Correct condom use is critical in preventing unwanted pregnancies and sexually transmitted diseases, yet an Indiana study found many men reported problems with the fit and feel of condoms. The range of condom sizes is limited yet men come in all shapes and sizes.
21% of men in the study reported the condoms were too tight. 18% of the men in the study reported the condoms felt too short. 10% of the men in the study reported the condoms felt too loose. 7% of the men in the study reported the condoms felt too long.
Alicia’s Notes – look at providing condoms in varied sizes.
Source: Indiana University (2007, September 19) Condoms are Not ‘One Size Fits All’. Science Daily.
Get your copy of FANCY FREE, an erotic romance about condoms by Shelley Munro, from Ellora’s Cave on March 7, 2008. To read an excerpt visit http://www.shelleymunro.com/coming-soon
So I was going to blog about the Oscars, but realized that I didn't know a lot about any of the movies nominated this year. I'm still going to watch it, because I'm an Oscar freak. George Clooney is nominated, but I've heard that the probable winner will be Daniel Day Lewis, darnit. One of my favorite parts of the show is the memoriam to those actors/actresses who have died in the past Oscar year (March 2007 thru February 2008). Don't ask me why - I've always been a celebrity obituary gal. Morbid, I know. My family calls me the obit lady. I've been called worse. Anway, here is my own personal in memoriam - because of space limitations I could only include the most famous ones. I'll be watching closely tonight to see who they leave out. I'm like that. I once wrote the Academy an email in protest because they left someone off of the list. Oscar Geek alert! So, will you/did you watch the Oscars?
VoluminousSchlongWilma (Wilma has a voluminous schlong? And I can’t even get volume in my hair …) ErectileOrganGrandAhmed (Supercalifragulisticexpealidocious) Can I get out of debt? (I don’t know, can you?) We don’t advertise, we advise. (Well I advise that you advertise your non-advertisement) Hot wild nights of pleasure await you. (Hugh? Hugh is that you?) You’ve been picked to fill out surveys for cash – month of February. (Oh, I’m good at that, aren’t I Marty?) Those locker room stares will be for the right reason. (The simple fact that I’m in a locker room would be enough to stare.) With no particular (No particular what? No particular reason to be in a locker room?) Your neighbors lost their alarm clock. (Oh, they lost their alarm clock for no particular reason. That’s what you were trying to say.) Talk to me now! (I didn’t do it. An insane dog enters my yard and digs those holes.)
Also, Jason Evans is having another short fiction contest, this one is called "Whispers". Head on over to his blog and have a go at it.
Ames did a meme listing the hang-ups or things that she has to do before writing or while writing. While they don’t have to be musts, they are things that make her feel more comfortable. So I decided to do my own. You don’t have to do one, but feel free to throw in a comment about any hang-ups you might have before you start writing, do chores, read, etc.
A Day of Writing with Bailey
1. I have to check my emails, MySpace messages and go by Jill’s blog (if it’s in the morning)
2. If it’s a morning that I’ve posted my blog, then I have to check comments there too. 3. Check friends status’ 4. Put LOLcatz comment on Ames’ MySpace page. 5. Find the right music. I’m easily distracted so most of the time the music can’t have words to it because I’ll sing along. But, on the other hand, I have been known to put together music CD’s that describe either the characters personalities, the action of the story, or set up the ambience for a scene. For instance, “At Last” for the first love scene; “Smuggler’s Blues” for an action scene, etc. 6. play 3 or 4 rounds of spider solitaire 7. I can’t write pen and paper because of the arthritis. Well, I can write it, but I won’t be able to read it. Now that I have the laptop, I can sit in my favorite chair. 8. I have to have the storyboard set up. 9. Go smoke a cigarette and get a coke 10. Stare at screen for a few minutes and wonder what in the hell am I doing. 11. Read the last chapter to get back into the feel of the story. 12.I have to have the characters names before I can write the story. Sometimes they come to me easily, other times it’s like pulling teeth. 13. Go smoke a cigarette. Sit on porch and plot perfect paragraph. Then forget the entire paragraph when I get back into house. 14. I also have to have a title. It doesn’t have to be the perfect title, but I have to call it something more than the WIP or “untitled” 15. Look at storyboard and fall in love with my hero again. Now I’m ready to write.
Aidan here. Mother was going to have Seamas blog again, but I begged her not to subject you to any more of his “LOLz” cat speak, so to say. I hate that site; it’s such an insult to us superior felines. Anyway, we’re adjusting fine without Neely Shae, although I must admit that I do miss my favorite target. Bailey and Seamas aren’t as fun to attack. And I said Bailey. I don’t care if there’s some sort of mix-up with his and mother’s names. BooBear is ridiculous. How could any self-respecting feline hold up his head with a name like BooBear? I know, mother calls me Aidan Maiden, so who am I to speak, right? I.hate.Aidan Maiden. In case I’m not clear enough – Aidan Maiden sucks eggs. She even has a little poem for me: Aidan Maiden, pudding pie. Kissed the kits and made them cry. When Aidan Maiden came out to play, all the kits they ran away. Can you imagine going through life with that sticking to you? It’s either that or Secret Aidan Man. If I have to have one or the other, I’ll take Secret Aidan Man because at least it’s male.
Mother has been having a bit of a bad week. The sale of the house isn’t going through as soon as she, and obviously Uncle David, thought it would. So here’s mother packing to move into an apartment she can’t afford. It’s all Uncle David’s fault and if he were here I’d pee on his foot. He doesn’t like cats anyway, so what harm would it do? I could leave a little present in his shoe too, if you know what I mean. I don’t mind getting a little crass when it comes to protecting my mother.
I heard mother say the other day that she just doesn’t get to blog as much as she used to. What with all of this packing and cleaning, she doesn’t have the time. I know, you see her on MySpace a lot. She’s not always there. Mother has this habit of leaving the computer on and logged into the site. Whenever she gets a message or something, it “cachings” (that’s the closest to the sound I can get) rather loudly and she comes running to answer it. It’s pathetic if you ask me, sort of like Pavlov’s dogs. Anyway, once she’s settled into her new place, she’ll get back to a routine. Whatever that is. And she’ll be able to look for a job again. I’ve been told she needs one badly. I don’t know why, wouldn’t a purr, nuzzle and lick get her most things in life? It works for us.
Can I tell you? (Not right now.) It’s important (Okay, go ahead.) A penis is a terrible thing to waste. (I thought that was a mind? Oh, wait, for some people that is their mind) Tired of losing your erection halfway, or having a small weener? Change it today … (Is this like light bulbs? Can you go to the store and buy them in a four pack? How about generics?) Works so good, you will poke your eye out … guarenteed. (Oh, I can imagine that’s everyone’s goal – poke that eye right out.) Elvincockwalloping (Well, Elvin can go wallop his cock somewhere else.) Reduce your debts the professional way. (I’d rather do it unprofessionally, thank you.) Methodist watches. (Watches have religion? What does a Christian Scientists watch look like?) Hello band saw. (Goodbye staple gun)
Otherwise known as Catslady - just let me know that her oldest cat Tabatha passed away today. I'm so sorry sweetie. I know that you gave her a lot of love and 17 is a very long time for a cat. Lots of hugs.
There’s a group of us that are boycotting Valentine’s Day for various reasons. Some are doing so because of the crassness and commercialism that has taken over the day. Me, I’m doing it because truth be told, I hate Valentine’s Day. I think it was a holiday invented by happy people to kick lonely people in the gut a few times. It started with me in elementary school. I was one of those kids who sat in class and watched while all of the other kids received valentines. Then later, when teachers began to make the class give valentines to everyone in the class – I received some that said “Happy Valentine’s Day, you stink” and other less loving sayings. I don’t understand how the valentine company’s that make the packages for children would print such terrible ones, but they do. Later in high school it was Valentinegrams. These were purchased and filled out by the sender, then delivered to classrooms by people on the Valentine committee (I guess). I never received any of those either. Neither did I have a boyfriend during the Valentine season – I was always alone. Sometime in my 20s mom began giving me one long-stem rose for Valentine’s Day. Even in the grips of Alzheimer’s, she would still remember to have Bebo get my rose. Last year was the first time I didn’t receive one in 20 years. But still, it’s a bit pathetic when your mother is your only Valentine.
So, there will be no Valentine’s from me, no MySpace comments either. I’m boycotting.
Deer blogsters, mi name is bubba an i am in charge. momma iz buzy on mycatspace an haz forgot to do her blog so i am doin it. i am a gud kitty an very hansome. i am also very smart. mommy watsht futbal all day an cride becuz it wuz teh last game ob teh seeson. me an aden played wit teh round ball ting an boobear hid unner teh bed cuz he iz so frade of evryting. me an aden tellz him not to be frade, but he no listen to uz. eben teh stoopid dawgz next door scared him an dey are outside. see how silly he iz? mommie iz movin an there are lotz of boxes around an we hab fun jumpin in an out ob dem. we kinda likz it widout neely shay around here cuz we can nowz getz to mommy. fore dat neely would chaze uz away cuz she wanted all ob mommies tenshun. Nows we no longer haz to be pushed away, we gotz mommie allz to ourselvez. dat is gud. momma gibs teh katz outside sum can fudz an she no givz dem to uz. dat not nice, iz it? momma shuld givz uz teh gud smelin fud, shoudnt she? i folos momma roundz teh house an to teh potz rum where she closd teh door an i yelled noes momma, noes closd door on bubba. let bubba in. an sometime she do. den i go round her feetz so she spank me, cuz i liked to be spanked. really. it gibs me tinglez.
Ahem.
oh hi momma. youz bak from mycatspace?
Yes, and I don’t think they want to hear about your spanking fetish. I’ll take over from here.
I think Bubba has pretty much filled you in on our day. A lot of fun in the Stewart household. I would have let him finish this, but, I wanted to break in and tell you that I just now heard that actor Roy Scheider (man in the middle)has died. Many of you will remember him from “Jaws” where he uttered that most famous line – “You’re gonna need a bigger boat”. He also received Oscar nominations for his work in “The French Connection” and “All That Jazz”.
More howls than you can shake a shiver at. (First off, what’s a shiver? And how do you shake it?) HugoMonolithicBodypart (Really? And are you going to introduce me to Hugo?) You really need it. (A hugo monolithic bodypart? Won’t Hugo miss it?) Professional PRO (Aren’t all pros professional?) PhallusMassiveAmelia (Amelia has a massive phallus? Does Ripley’s Believe it or Not know about this?) The baby-maker grows and develops GRADUALLY, not over night! (Duh! It takes around 9 mos.) And it was so. (So? So what?) Aggressive traders alert. (Why? Is someone going to jump out of a dark alley and demand that I buy stock?)
It's not that its absolutely hysterical, it was the surprise of it that had me giggling my head off. And yeah, I kinda like the guy, but he can be so over the top that the idea of running him over sounds good. Of course, I won't remember what the commercial was advertising, and that's the problem with a lot of these Superbowl ads, the message gets lost in the search for the most stunning, funny commercial.
Saturday Susie and I took Neely Shae to her new home - well, for a two-week trial period at her new home. Neely wasn't thrilled, in fact the poor baby peed in the carrier. That was a great introduction to Libby and her new home - a long trip and then immediately to a sink. Libby is going to re-name her Nelly. Nelly?! Neely Shae means princess of the fairy castle, or something like that, in gaelic. I chose it for its beauty in both sound and meaning. Nelly? That's what you call an old nag. Oh well, she's not mine anymore so I guess it won't matter. I do hope this works because I'm running out of options for her. The apartment will only allow 2 animals (the girls in the office are letting me sneak in a third), but a fourth - no way. I also don't want to cram 4 cats in a one bedroom apartment; 4 cats are getting too expensive in shots, food, litter. I've tried the rescue groups, but they declined because they consider 10 too old for adoption. If this doesn't work with Libby, there's a slight chance I could talk my vet into taking her and finding a home; if not, then its the needle for her - and that would tear me up. Leaving her there effected me more than I thought it would. I spent a good deal of Saturday night crying. But I'm better now.
We all know I write this stuff the night before, so I'm getting ready to watch the Superbowl. I'm touched by the reading of the Declaration of Independence by former and present football players/officials/coaches. Kinda brought a tear to my eyes. Who am I rooting for? As much as I hate to say it, I'm rooting for the Giants. I have my reasons:
1. I'd hate for anybody other than the Cowboys to have a perfect year.
2. I'm tired of hearing about how great the Patriots are, and how they're undefeatable.
3. The Giants represent the NFC and that's the division the Cowboys are in.
4. Tom Brady is too cute to be a quarterback.
5. I don't want the Patriots to win more Superbowls than the Cowboys.
6. I don't like Bill Bellichek (sp?)
Bebo and I spent most of the day (okay, not most but quite a bit) working on the study. And we're still not done. We both ended up beat. A lot of mother's stuff was there, a lot of stuff to shred.
Bigger baby-maker is not a dream anymore! (Yeah, I’ve always wanted to give birth to a 20lb. baby) i adore show my great body (spam doesn’t have bodies) It follows you to read it (Now that’s some book!) FOR YOUR ATTENTION ONLY … (Everyone, turn your backs.) Cockprominentdino (Dinosaurs had prominent cocks?) You can have a 7 inches long Penis, how to archive? (Wrap it in acid free tissue.) Please don’t forget Robbie’s anniversary party, tommorow. (I’m going to be busy with acid free tissue. And learn how to spell, will ya?) Maxwellcockplumping (Good to the last drop)
I've seen this before, but not in this particular way. The original is just these two cats meowing at each other, but this is cuter. Watch, you'll love it.
Just heard that mystery writer (and daughter of President Harry S. Truman) Margaret Truman has passed away at the age of 83. Mom loved her books, and Bebo liked a few of them too.
Oh, and our winds are really high (up to 50 mph gusts) and my internet is in and out. Sheesh.
Auntie Anne’s Birthday celebration. (So, do you think she’d like a new schlong?) Raise a monster in your pants. (Oooh, keep it caged, will ya.) My back (It’s all because of that monster in your pants) Reach out and bone someone. (Don’t you touch me with that thing) Hey! Do you want to make huge money? (Put Viagara on it?) Tomorrow we are invited to Ingemar’s birthday. (Sorry, I have to clip my toe nails) Your new schlong will win more prizes! (Bobbing for apples?) Fastest way to get out of debt. (Oh, believe me, if I had a big schlong I’d be making a lot of money.)
Stunned. That's the only way I can describe my reaction to the news of Heath Ledger's death at the age of 28. What a loss of a remarkable talent. It was in 1997 that Bebo and I first saw Heath in a short-lived TV series called Roar. For those of you unfamiliar with this show (and you really should have watched it) here is a montage from the series.
They say he was found surrounded by sleeping pills. I hope it was an accident, that he didn't mean to overdose. He had just finished filming his role of the Joker in the new Batman movie. I feel sorry for his little girl.
In other news, I have an apartment. A cute little 1 bedroom with a fireplace! I've always wanted a fireplace. I move the weekend of March 15th.
I made a mistake tonight. I went back and read all of the entries on my old Alzheimer's blog. I thought I could do it, you know it's been a year. I thought I could step back and read it dispassionately. That's what I get for thinking. I bawled like a baby. Why did I do it, you might ask. I received an email from someone who had come across the blog and who was looking for some answers. She is now the caregiver for her mother. I said what I could, then went back and read the blog. Just shoot me now.
I spent most of the day culling my books. I have two built-in bookshelves which I obviously can't take with me, so I needed to get rid of some books. Four boxes and two bags later, I'm done. No, the Shalvis Shrine was not touched. There is only one thing that would make me touch that - if Mrs. Hugh Jackman were to come over and say "I'll give you my husband for your Jill Shalvis books" I might have to think about it - long and hard. I love you Jill ... Oh, and there were also all those books I brought back from RWA intending to give them away on the blog. Then I realized I didn't have the money for postage ...
Did you know Bubba farts when I pick him up? Why did I tell you that - because everyone should be warned.
Just wanted to say hi. (Now you’ve done it, leave me alone.) Oh my goodness … your penis is BELOW average size! (It’s supposed to be … I’m a woman.) Gradually your dick will grow larger! (Lie, lie, lie Pinocchio) Oh my God!!! Lovely imagination! (Thanks, I try. But compliments aren’t going to make you more welcome here.) Gain great size and force for your willy! (Could I fight off burglars with it?) … and keep it. (If I had a willy, you can be sure I’ll keep it.) Your neighbors have lost their alarm clock. (Don’t look at me.) Look what I have found!! (What are you doing in my backyard?) The most beautiful timepieces. (Shhhhh, don’t let the neighbors find out.)
This is for Tori. Racer X from the old Speed Racer series.
I *heart* YouTube.
I've started doing a little packing, mostly weeding out of books since I can't take them all with me. Don't worry, the Shalvis Shrine will be untouched. Anyway, the books I'm packing up now will go to Half-Price books because they'll give me some cash for them, and I need that.
American Idol starts tonight (since everybody knows I'm writin this on Tuesday night) and I can't wait. I love the audition parts. But I have a problem for Wednesday night - it's up opposite Ghost Hunters International, so I'll have to tape GHI. I hate that, espcially since there's nothing I watch on Saturday nights.
Received my order from Amazon and I can't wait to get to it, but I still have a stack on the table next to my big ol' chair that I need to work on first.
That's it for me. I hope everyone has a great Wednesday. And yes, Spam will be back on Friday.
Since Tanya couldn't remember Race Bannon from the old cartoon Jonny Quest (I'm talking '67 here people, not the newer version), here's a little reminder. Talk about your Alpha male. This is actually more Bebo's lustbunny than mine.
Also, I've written another review on Isn't It Romantic. Go and look.
Not much to report on. The Cowboys lost *screamiing* so we're out of the playoffs. But they did what I really wished for - that they improve from last season, and they did. They won the NFC East division. Next year guys. Next year.
I'll be back next week, honest. If you're wondering what's going on (like you haven't been by this week) then go here. Otherwise, enjoy Hugh as host at the Tony Awards. Have a great weekend.
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
If you don't know what I'm talking about, read the blog below. A few answers about "The situation" - mom's will left the house to us equally. My brother(the executor) says the estate can no longer pay the insurance or house taxes, neither can I. My brother gave me $100 a month while taking care of mom - there was nothing else he could do from Missouri. The estate gave me $7,000 when mom died. I am mad, but at the same time a little resigned. I may have found a home for Neely Shae. Another answer - I can't afford four cats, nor would I take four of them to a one bedroom apartment. There's a small part of me that's kind of relieved. No more watching the house fall down around me, no more worrying about who's going to mow the lawn, etc.
Anyway, while I've been contemplating everything, I've discovered YouTube. So here's something else to look at.
I don’t know what to say. Some of you have been aware of my situation with the house, others won’t know what I’m talking about, but I’m too devastated to go into it. My brother informed me tonight that I have until the end of February or March to vacate the premises. I don’t have a full-time job, so no means of support. I have to get rid of one of the cats. I don’t know what I’m going to do. I don’t feel like blogging right now, so will be gone for a few days. I hope you understand.
In your account in less than an hour. (Should be plenty of room, there’s not much else in it.) Separate yourself from other men. (What’s the fun in that?) I like that they found a model who doesn’t quite look natural in the face. (Are you talking to me?) Big rod will win you a perfect sexual reputation! (I’d settle for an imperfect one.) This is NOT a trial – you’ve been waiting for this all year. (Hugh?) Quick way to enlarge your ding dong. (I don’t have a ding dong!) … and keep it. (well, now that you mention it, if I did have a ding dong, I’d like to keep it.) Don’t let your dream mate pass you by. (He will if he sees my ding dong.)
Surprise, it's me. I was just messing around blogspace and found a couple of quizzes I liked.
You Belong in Dublin
Friendly and down to earth, you want to enjoy Europe without snobbery or pretensions. You're the perfect person to go wild on a pub crawl... or enjoy a quiet bike ride through the old part of town.
You're a pretty sweet person, and you're definitely not prone to bitchy outbursts. Sometimes, though, you can't help thinking mean thoughts about people. But at least you don't act on them!
I was blessed with an overabundance of book gift certificates this holiday season. Everyone knows that I don’t have money to buy books, so they took pity upon me. LOL Anyway, a co-worker gave me a GC to Walmart, where I bought three Blazes:
One Wild Wedding Night by Leslie Kelly My Guilty Pleasure by Jamie Denton A Blazing Little Christmas by Jacquie D’Alessandro, Joanne Rock and Kathleen O’Reilly
Then I won a GC for Amazon.com (waving at Ames) and my cousin also sent me one:
The Ex-Girlfriends Club by Rhonda Nelson Kidnapped by Jo Leigh Feeling the Heat by Rhonda Nelson The Black Sheep and the Princess (Unholy Trinity, Book 1) by Donna Kauffman Built by someone named Ames Sexy Devil by Sasha White
Someone else sent me a GC to Barnes and Noble (waving at Olga). The B. Dalton at the mall is going out of business and everything was 50% off, and since they are owned by B&N I was able to use the card there:
‘Scuse Me While I Kill This Guy by Leslie Langtry Sex and the Psychic Witch by Annette Blair C.J.’s Fate by Kay Hooper (a reprint of her first Loveswept) Born to be Wilde by Janelle Denison Double Dating With the Dead by Karen Kelley
I also won a GC to Borders (waving at Dennie) which I used to buy my 2008 Date Book, I really rely on these things.
But I still have 3 GC to Borders left (waving at Bebo and my sister). One is for the new Kay Hooper book, Blood Dreams, which comes out this month. The second for Small Favors (The Dresden Files, Book 10) which comes out April. The third – for whatever comes up.
But before I get to that, this is for Ames, because she's been so desperate for them:
Cats New Years Resolutions (I didn't write them, Bebo emailed them to me)
My human will never let me eat their pet hamster, and I am at peace with that.
I will not slurp fish food from the surface of the aquarium
I will not eat large numbers of assorted bugs, then come home and Throw them up so the humans can see that I'm getting plenty of Roughage.
I will not lean way over to drink out of the tub, fall in, and then Pelt right for the box of clumping cat litter. (It took FOREVER to get The stuff out of my fur.)
I will not use the bathtub to store live mice for late-night snacks.
We will not play "Herd of Thundering Wildebeests Stampeding Across the Plains of the Serengeti" over any humans' bed while they're trying to Sleep.
I cannot leap through closed windows to catch birds outside. If I Forget this and bonk my head on the window and fall behind the couch In my attempt, I will not get up and do the same thing again.
I will not assume the patio door is open when I race outside to chase leaves.
I will not stick my paw into any container to see if there is Something in it. If I do, I will not hiss and scratch when my human Has to shave me to get the rubber cement out of my fur.
If I bite the cactus, it will bite back.
When it rains, it will be raining on all sides of the house. It is not necessary to check every door.
I will not play "dead cat on the stairs" while people are trying to Bring in groceries or laundry, or else one of these days, it will Really come true.
When the humans play darts, I will not leap into the air and attempt To catch them.
I will not swat my human's head repeatedly when they are on the family Room floor trying to do sit ups.
When my human is typing at the computer, their forearms are *not* a hammock.
Computer and TV screens do not exist to backlight my lovely tail.
I will not puff my entire body to twice its size for no reason after My human has watched a horror movie.
I will not stand on the bathroom counter, stare down the hall, and Growl at NOTHING after my human has watched the X-Files.
I will not drag dirty socks onto the bed at night and then yell at the Top of my lungs so that my humans can admire my "kill."
I will not perch on my human's chest in the middle of the night and Stare until they wake up.
I will not walk on the key board when my human is writing important Adagfsg gdjag ;ln.
If I must claw my human I will l not do it in such a way that the Scars resemble a botched suicide attempt.
If I must give a present to my human guests, my toy mouse is much more socially acceptable than a big live bug, even if it isn't as tasty.
Are he industry. (Now why can’t I find a job in that industry?) The most beautiful timepieces. (Thank you. Let me just get that piece of dirt off them.) We have it all! (Well not quite all. Some are still buried in the backyard.) Oh my goodness … your penis is BELOW average size. (That’s because I’m a woman you idiot) Boyfriend left you for some circus midget named “Thumb”. (It’s only because I gave him the finger.) Get super-size for your willy on New Year Holiday! (Can I have fries with that?) Allow your stem elongate and get more mighty in 2008! (If my stem elongates, you can bet I’ll be more mighty.) With your new big rod you will easily spend 365 hot nights in a new year! (Oh damn, I hate the heat.) Want to be a pornstar, now you can! (Oh yeah, that’s always been a lifelong ambition.) Obtain a huge schlong for a new year! (You know, it’s the time to make new goals for yourself …)
A couple of hours ago I realized that I needed to write a blog for tomorrow. It’s now 8:30 p.m. and I still don’t know what to say. So call this the post about nothing. I had a good day today. The only blemish was a visit from a beloved cousin who had only stopped by to drop off my birthday present and ended up spending the entire day and eating dinner with Bebo and me. Now don’t get me wrong, I love my cousin Janet very much, I often call her “mom” (she’s much older than I and has children my age), but she can be rather insensitive at times. On the day that I miss my mother the most, she chose to tell me all about our aunt who she thinks has Alzheimer’s and could I give her some tips on how to handle her, what to do with her, who can take care of her (which I very promptly said “not me, I’ve gone through that once already”). I didn’t need to be reminded of my mother so much, especially today. She also gave me a 3-piece microwavable spa set. Huh? What am I going to do with that? Talk about white elephants … although for my birthday she gave me this gorgeous sofa pillow with St. Nicholas on it. It will go well with my collection and is the perfect color. It’s also a present for the cats as it has tassels on it.
My sister gave me the complete first (and only) season of the Dresden Files! Yay!!!!! Bebo gave me Borders gift cards for both my birthday and Christmas presents. More yays. Let’s see – Brandy sent me this cute little box of candy. Thanks sweetie. My brother didn’t send me anything, not even a card. I suppose he considers calling me up and singing the Merry Birthday song was enough. Not. I sent him an ecard for his birthday AND called him. Men.
Oh, and I started the day by going out to the nursing home to see my sister. See, I’m being a good girl. (For those of you who are fairly new to the blog, I don’t get along with my sister – she thinks we do …)
See, look, you made it this far without barfing, so I guess its not that bad. So now I’m sitting here watching The Christmas Shoes for like the third time this season (it wasn’t what the TV guide said would be on), I’m too lazy to put this laptop down and find the remote.
Oh, and now my cousin wants to be included when Bebo and I go out! She wants to make it a threesome. Every once in a while yes, but not on a regular basis – please, not on a regular basis.
So here it is, my blog about nothing. At least there’s spam for Friday, right?
What did you get for Christmas?
btw - I bought Bebo "The Gift of the Magi" for Christmas. Thanks Devon!
Where are you Christmas? Why can't I find you? Why have you gone away? Where is the laughter You used to bring me? Why can't I hear music play? My world is changing I'm rearranging Does that mean Christmas changes too? Where are you Christmas Do you remember The one you used to know I'm not the same one See what the time's done Is that why you have let me go Christmas is here Everywhere, oh Christmas is here If you care, oh If there is love in your heart and your mind You will feel like Christmas all the time I feel you Christmas I know I've found you You never fade away The joy of Christmas Stays here in silence Fills each and every heart with love Where are you Christmas Fills your heart with love
From How the Grinch Stole Christmas. I don't know who wrote it.
I have a lot of memories of Christmas, most of them from my adult years. Oh, don’t get me wrong – I do remember Christmas as a child, but they’re mostly a blur, one meshing in with another until they become one long string of Christmases. No, I mean my memories of Christmas are much clearer after I became an adult. I no longer woke up before the break of dawn to rush my parents out of bed, but rather lay in my own, listening to the sounds of the house waking up, my parents whispering in the dining room, the smell of coffee. I’d join them, mother would wish me happy birthday, and we would read the paper quietly together. It wasn’t the same every Christmas; it depended upon whether the others (my sister, brothers and families) were coming in for Christmas breakfast or dinner. If it were breakfast, then the morning was a rush of orange juice cans, egg shells and coffee grounds. If dinner – well the smells of ham baking, or pies, or bread, the oven constantly going; the bustle of activity, last minute cleaning before the group arrived. Then I’d play Santa, sitting under the tree handing out presents, my own set aside. Watching the kids open their gifts – there’s no magic in the world that can compare. And then the dinner where there was more food than any one family could possibly eat. Turkey, ham, yams, potatoes, salads of every variety and color, desserts galore; stories and games, laughter and more eating. And love. A lot of love.
That’s my wish for you this Christmas – family, laughter, memories - but most of all, love.
Make all girls look at your stick with admiration. (From mighty oaks …) Watch this stock TOMMORROW! (OKAY!) Massive PE patch sale. (Will this get me out of gym?) Print Grocery Coupons for your Holiday Meals. (I’d rather have food, thank you.) Christmas 944396. (A space odyssey) Grab yourself a present that just keeps on giving. (STD’s?) Massive holiday discounts for massive rods! (Oh yeah, I’ve seen those at WalMart, in the penis section.) Mar.Christ.Watches. (Jesus wore a watch?) Perfect Christmas gift for your loved one is a bigger PE! (damn, I got Bebo a chia pet instead.) Watch your fantasy lineup with a HDTV from Best Buy. (Hugh Jackman, George Clooney, James Denton, Alex O’Loughlin, Orlando Bloom …) Wanna pass an unforgettable night? (Only if I can have my fantasy lineup.) Real holiday miracle is waiting for your little willy! (The real holiday miracle is the Virgin birth – little willy had a long wait.)
I was having a so-so day, not good nor bad. Then I made the mistake of answering the phone when one of the credit card companies called. I've been ignoring their phone calls, but for some masochistic reason I answered this one. Big mistake. Now I'm in major depression mode. This guy was real aggressive, but in that patronizing way. "Couldn't you get a second job?" Um, if I could have I would have. "Do you have something you can sell to make a payment?" Well, there are the cats. I sit in the dark, the room lit only by the TV and Christmas tree. I sit in 40 degree weather without the furnace on. If I sell something it would be to pay the electric bill, not a credit card. "You have to get your priorities in order." You think? My Sears card is not my priority. Maybe I should just give up eating.
I'm late with my Christmas cards. They're ecards because I couldn't afford to buy cards. My ecard account is set up in my real name, so if you receive something from Bluemountain.com, it'll be from me. It isn't spam.
Sorry this isn't the greatest post in the world, but it's all I have to give at the moment. Y'all have a great Wednesday.
Bebo told me there was only one thing she wanted for Christmas – the new Harry Potter movie. I’ve spent a month or so trying to figure out how I was going to come up with the money to buy it. Friday night my boss called and wanted to know if I’d work an entire shift on Saturday (instead of my half day) and I said yes. $25 dollars. Just what I needed to buy her gift. I worked the entire day and came home one tired puppy. Bebo wanted me to call her, so I did. We talked and then she quietly said “I bought myself something today.” “What?” I replied. Hesitation. “The new Harry Potter movie”. It was so quiet on my side that you could hear a cat’s whisker hit the floor. “Why?” I said through gritted teeth. “I thought it would be the only way I’d get it”. Wrong!!!!!!!! “I was going to buy that for you. Now what am I going to do?” Silence on her side. “Well you’ve done that before. Buy something you wanted before Christmas.” Not a good enough answer. You see, I always give people plenty of options for my gift, so if I happen to buy one of them, at least there would be other things they could get me. And I never did it this close to Christmas. She only wanted one thing. ONE THING! So just as the song goes “Bebo ain’t gettin’ nutin’ for Christmas.”
The Cowboys lost. That’s all I’m going to say on the matter.
Heard tonight that Dan Fogelberg has died of prostate cancer. He was 56. For those of you who have no idea who I’m talking about – as you listen to your radio play Christmas music and you hear the song “Same Old Lang Syne” (in which a man reminisces after meeting an old girlfriend by chance during the holidays) – that’s Dan Fogelberg. He also sang “Leader of the Band”.
I hope everyone has a great Monday. And remember, if it’s a week before Christmas, don’t buy anything for yourself.
Don’t envy well-hung guys. (Envy? No. Lust? Yes) Make it longer and more powerful with our pills! (What do you do, add them to the end?) 750 dollars free only for you! (Everybody else has to pay for it.) Self-pity is not for you! Fight for your male perfection! (Okay Mrs. Jackman, put up your dukes.) To whom it may concern. (Sincerely yours) An awesome sex toy for men! (Why thank you) Looking for really effective non-surgery penis enlargement method? (no) Turn your trouser mouse into a monster schlong in 2008! (well, if you’re gonna put it that way …) Cup thoroughly. (Always.)
e though that my friend Sunshine, from work, managed to take of me at the Irish Festival in March. Here, are you satisfied? At least my five chins aren't showing. Savor it, 'cuz it will probably be the last one you see unless I lose a few more pounds. 
e though that my friend Sunshine, from work, managed to take of me at the Irish Festival in March. Here, are you satisfied? At least my five chins aren't showing. Savor it, 'cuz it will probably be the last one you see unless I lose a few more pounds. 
