Showing posts from November, 2015

Christmas in Violentville!

Christmas was quickly approaching, and everyone was getting ever so more violent in Violentville!

Hatchetsack got out his hatchet, and began cutting down a beautiful grenade cluster tree in his neighbors AK Fortnight Seven's snow covered lawn. He was hoping to cut it down, and let it fall on his neighbors house, as all the grenades were booby trapped to let go. Each were carefully placed so as if a branch so ever did move, it would move a fishing line to release the safety pin. Thereby letting go a cluster of explosions to anyone who dare climb his precious honeydew apple tree.

Hatchetsack hacked, and hacked, at the base of the tree. A hardened warrior from the Persian Gulf, he wanted the grenades to fall on his nemesis's house, to cause him mortal pain. He would then sing Christmas carols and laugh at him from the curb. The apple tree was a tough old hardwood though, and sinking his machete and calling out blasphemes at his neighbor who was loading his rifle in the window to…

MLB signing that free agent! The how to do it yourself backyard project bird house series!

Ralhoumie was furious. The General Manager for the Sawdust Tornado major professional baseball team had lost one of their star pitchers to a rival team.

Ralhoumie fumed "How could this happen. How could this have happened! We offered him free bubble gum, free stadium wide WI FI, and a connection to the main jumbo tron during the game for surfing while playing at the game. Where did we go wrong, Flaggelum?"

Flaggelum who was the assistant to the GM for big moves, spit his chewing tobacco on top of his crystal ball, and began to rub it again and again in ecstasy "My crystal ball was wrong. A storm was indeed brewing in our rivals the Recyclables Tin Hats region, and they just had a few more feathers in their 1 million stuffed pillow to out do us! How can you compete with ostrich feathers, man!"

Ralhoumie shoved a 5 foot stack of papers off his desk and got up red faced. "Who the hell knew he had a fetish for ostrich feathers! My God, I would have bought him one…

My dog sucks at editing.

An editor, and editor. My kingdom for an editor!

My dog cannot edit. She slobbered on the keyboard and nearly got electrocuted from her slobber drippings.

I tried a mime for to edit my book. Ok, sad joke.

How about editors without borders. We have all heard for Doctors without borders. Free work. Yep, I am all for it.

Does not look good. And I am cheap too. Especially when my books do not sell...

For now, Part 4 rests. The clock is clicking... Not ticking. Need a new clock.

Good evening supermarket maniacs!

To this day, I must say, the dilemma facing the production of Part 4 is once again rearing its green moldy head out of the fruit and vegetable supermarket aisle... Money.

Money, to help produce a quality product. With negative cash flows with the other three books, Part 4 so does truly appear to be so much ever so far away from a book or e book production.

I will continue to search in the limited spare time I have for cost efficient ways to produce Part 4, but as it stands of now it cannot be produced. The Canadian Dollar Vs American is 75 cents. Take in exchange rates, what not, it leaves me only to think of trying to produce it hear in Canada. Editing costs range anywhere from 2000 to 850 for a book of 85000 words or plus.

Difficult to get a cheap editor, but will look in my own province for such an option. That is of course, the first hurdle to pass.

I will not say it is over, but it does not look good. The future is indeed gloomy for Part 4. It was sent to a humor production comp…

The Supermarket Guy 5: From the cradle to the legendary fable

It was a balmy day when Harold Wannapus was born. His mother was screaming in constant pain, as the top of his head began to gleam like a pearl in the incandescent lights. They could just see the head pop out a little bit. His father yelled at his wife "50, 40, 30, hut hut.. Come on, pass him to me. I can take him down the 10 yard line, tackle this doctor and these few scrawny nurses and get a touchdown! I know you can do it!"

It was 1979, and at that time you could smoke in the hospitals. "Shut your trap, this is not a football game you are coaching. Same thing with the sex, you thought my breasts were energy drink bottles. Guess they weren't red bull, you certainly fell asleep shortly after a few seconds of cuddling. Give me some oxygen, this pain is unbearable. Get my loser husband out of here!"

One nurse quietly spoke to the high school gym teacher coach, while the other lit up a massive cigar for Harolds mom "Sir, you are making your wife feel very u…