Wednesday, November 30, 2011


Although I am immeasurably exhausted, I could not resist posting of my fantastic news. Last night, at precisely 10:30 PM, EST, I officially finished my novel for NaNoWriMo! With over 50,000 words, and more than 24 hours to go, I nearly went ballistic when I hit the bona fide Submit button and a few seconds later, saw the word WINNER before my eyes. I must admit, I’m beyond frazzled, but the important thing is…… I DID IT! Let the celebration commence tonight!

Monday, October 17, 2011

Hot Diggity Dog!

Some days I just feel like a big wiener.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Get Smart

Well, I finally broke down and bought myself one of those smart phones and MAN is that sucker smart!!!! Geez, I think it’s smarter than most of my friends. Shhhhhhhh……… At a moment’s touch, I have the weather, the news, the radio, a video camera, and I can watch movies from that mega rental service with the bright red logo, you know which one I mean. I can get recipes, read books, turn my phone into a flash light, flute, night vision goggles, and even play video games…….. If I want to……. And I do………. So I do……. At inappropriate times…… Like at work. *wink*…………… And just the other day, I needed to look up the word “Loquacious” and BAM my smart phone gave me the definition. Just like that. I couldn’t get over it and proceeded to express my exhilaration to everyone around me. That is, until I received a text message FROM MY PHONE (who incidentally, I like to call Gladys) telling me to stop babbling so much. Huh!

I have to admit that just by having the phone I feel like I’m getting smarter myself, maybe by osmosis or something. Just this morning, I shot up out of bed understanding Carathéodory’s Existence Theorem as clear as the ocean in Saint Thomas. Carathéodory's existence theorem says that an ordinary differential equation has a solution under relatively mild conditions. It is a generalization of Peano’s existence theorem. Peano's theorem requires that the right-hand side of the differential equation is continuous, while Carathéodory's theorem shows existence of solutions (in a more general sense) for some discontinuous equations. I don’t know why this never made any sense to me before!

Then, I was hanging a portrait of H.P. Lovecraft on my living room wall and had a hell of a hard time getting it to hang level when WHAM my phone graciously turned into a level, bubble and all, and in seconds the picture was up and perfectly straight. Pretty smart, no? Yeah, until SHE text messaged me again saying the portrait didn’t go with my décor. What?!

It wasn’t until I started shopping online that I found out how smart my phone really was. Last night, while hanging out on the sofa, I pressed the Best Buy app and instantly connected to the store, happy to begin my shopping, free of all the hustle and bustle. As I was checking out televisions of gargantuan size, Gladys, "my so-called smart phone," interrupted me with yet another text message saying, “You seem to be packing on the pounds lately so perhaps it would be beneficial if you were to get yourself up and take a walk to the store instead of sitting there on your ever growing tush shopping from your lazy ass couch.” FINE, smarty pants!

And listen to this… I decided to get a pizza for dinner, picked up my phone and said, “Call Antonio’s Pizza.” It rang a few times and then shockingly I got, “Thanks for calling Health Happy, your source of all natural and whole foods to go, can I take your order?” See what I mean? The darn phone knew that a salad was a much healthier choice than a greasy, cholesterol-infused pizza. Now, that’s fine and dandy but I think I can make my own choices, no? Well, I ended up eating the crappy bean sprout salad with hummus but then crammed a Twinkie in my face afterwards. Next thing I know, my phone chirps out a text message from Gladys that reads, “What’s that sugar glob on your chin?” Can you believe she said that? This smart phone is really starting to tick me off! I mean, COME ON, how smart does she think she is anyway? Wouldn't you know, Gladys had the audacity to give me my answer in a text message….. “You want to know how smart I am? I’m smarter than a 5th grader………. Are you?”

Friday, June 10, 2011

Holy Jalapeno!

Whoa! Miracle-Gro really DOES work!!!

Thursday, May 5, 2011

It's Time to Celebrate!

Happy Stinco de Mayo!

I got that right, didn't I?

Thursday, March 31, 2011

The Script Frenzy... Frenzy

Well, tomorrow marks day one of Script Frenzy. And what the heck is Script Frenzy you may be asking? Well, it's basically a race against the clock to see if you can write a 100-page script in the 30 days of April. Exciting, no? But here's the kicker... There is no one hanging over you cracking the whip, you are not competing against other writers, and there are no prizes. So why do it? Because it's FUN... in a frenzy sort of way. My initial idea was to write a melodramatic, heartwarming screenplay. Two days ago, I trashed that idea for an even better one: a fantasy comedy with a hint of horror. Better, no? Well then, tomorrow morning, bright and early, I'll be off to the races! Wish me luck.

Monday, February 14, 2011

PLSL 101

Remember back in grade school when invariably, one of your friends taught you how to speak Pig Latin? Now, whether Pig Latin is a real language, or just a code invented by an extremely bored individual, it is just simply fun and easy to learn. You just take the initial consonant (or consonant cluster), move it to the end of the word, and add an “ay” such as in Ig-pay Atin-lay. In the case where the word starts with a vowel, you leave the word as is and add a “way,” “ay,” “yay,” or “hay” to the end, depending on the word, as in apple-yay or apple-ay. Simple as iepay!

So, it got me thinking, this is probably not something grade school children should be learning. It seems to be much better suited for adults twenty-one and over. Simply put, I believe classes in PLSL (Pig Latin as a Second Language) should be offered at night and weekends at every High School or Vo-Tech. I mean, why should those little rugrats have something over on us adults, right? It’s us adults that should always stay one step ahead of those short, little individuals. Plus, Pig Latin could have tons of benefits. Here’s what I’m thinking….

Just imagine, if you will, driving up to a Starbucks drive thru and the attendant (who, incidentally, is only fifteen) asks, “Welcome to Starbucks, may I take your order?”

“Yes, I’d like an innyskay aramelcay acchiatomay ithway ahay oubleday iceday innamoncay ollray, s'il vous plaît.” (I threw in the “s'il vous plaît” just to be confusing.) This Pig Latin stuff could be potentially fun as well as economically propitious. I’ll tell you why. That aforementioned fifteen-year old would most likely get so confused, flustered, and stressed out that he might actually quit his job. This in turn, would result in an open position for some poor, unhappy, schlep of an unemployed “adult” who needs to provide for a family of four. See what I mean?

Pig Latin also makes for a splendiferous implement in public. Let’s just say you’re at the supermarket and you accidentally slam your finger in the freezer door of the pastry puff section or your ankle gets run over by a shopping cart pushed by a half-blind, vertically challenged nursing home escapee. You can’t very well yell an insane amount of profanities whilst tons of toddlers are toddling about. That would be offensive, embarrassing, and down right inappropriate. But if said accident occurs and you yell, “Uckfay!” or “Onsay ofay itchbay!” in order to relieve the pain and garnish a little pleasure, no little five-year old is going to know what the hell you just said. Hence, no offense. See what I’m saying?

Pig Latin is also very useful in the household. You know how you tend to spell certain things in front of your dog like, C-O-O-K-I-E, P-A-R-K, W-A-L-K, and D-I-N-N-E-R? Well, now you can save yourself the trouble, especially if you’re a terrible speller. You can just say, “Hey, [fill in grumpy husband’s name here], don’t forget: you promised to take Fido to the arkpay after you mow the lawn! And don’t forget to stop at the pet store to pick up more ookiecays!” See? Easier said than spelled!

So, as you can see, Pig Latin has many uses and benefits but is definitely better suited to be the language of choice for adults more so than children. Hey… Wait a minute. I just realized something… What the heck do pigs have to do with Pig Latin anyway? And now that I think about it, the language sounds more like Goat Latin than Pig Latin, with all the “ay ay ay ay ay-ing” going on. Wouldn’t it be more logical for Pig Latin to add an “oink” at the end of the word instead of "ay?" Like in Igpoink Atinloink. Ellhoink eahyoink!! See?!… Just my opinion….

Sunday, January 30, 2011

A Day in the Life of a Lovecraftian

Rather groggy, I rose from the warmth of my quilt-covered bed and shuffled over to the slightly opened window and drew in the fresh, Cool Air. The window, chipping of age-yellowed paint and covered with a parade of Old Bugs, overlooked the The Shunned House across the street, in which He lived. Down The Street to the left was The Temple where The Festival was taking place in the crowded lot. The Crawling Chaos reminded me of The Dunwich Horror that happened years ago. Over to the right was the Dagon fishing dock and The Tree where The Cats of Ulthar congregated daily in hopes of being fed some tasty morsels of fish by the sailors as they disembarked The White Ship. I have to say, it’s quite dispiriting living in The Nameless City.

After a time, I meandered back to my bed, and grabbed The Little Glass Bottle from my hand-carved wooden nightstand as I ritually did every morning. Inside was the hideous-tasting blue liquid medicine I was assured would rid me of The Lurking Fear from which I often suffered. The resident Alchemist had referred me to The Terrible Old Man who lived in The Secret Cave by the shipyard where he secretly made this medicine from ingredients found in The Moon-Bog.

Heading toward the drawing room with The Hound at my feet, I retrieved The Silver Key I kept hidden behind The Picture in the House. Not just any picture mind you, but the one in fact, The Evil Clergyman found At the Mountains of Madness. Yes, that’s the one. With the key, I unlocked the The Case of Charles Dexter Ward, my great uncle who left it in my trust, and carefully removed The Book titled, The Unnamable.

Reading from the chapter containing The Statement of Randolph Carter, I suddenly noticed hellacious scratching noises coming From Beyond, perhaps the next room. I realized a moment later, it must have been The Rats In The Walls, for they often scurried haphazardly in an attempt to avoid The Trap I set. If Memory serves, that trap was set the day I witnessed The Shadow Over Innsmouth—A remarkable coincidence, no? In an attempt to drown out the grating noise, I turned up the volume on my phonograph— a Pickman’s Model of course—in which The Music of Erich Zann was soothingly being played. To further calm my jagged nerves, I decided to open one of the Two Black Bottles of brandy given to me by my dear friend Howard who I’ve known since my forsaken youth. He brought them back from his three-month voyage on The Mysterious Ship called The Outsider.

Hours later, feeling languorous from the brandy and my disconcerting day, it barely registered that my doorbell had rung. It wasn’t until the second or third ring that it finally made its way through my numbed brain. I’d hoped it wasn’t The Man of Stone again trying to sell me another magazine subscription. He’s relentless that guy. To my surprise, it was my good friend and colleague, Herbert West: Reanimator. “Well, well, well. Looky What the Moon Brings!” I said.

“Spare me the trivialities.”

Admiring his attire, my eyes drifted from the top of his black felt derby down to his highly polished wingtip shoes. “What’s that my good friend?” I asked.


The Thing on the Doorstep.

“Oh that. That’s just a pile of Ashes. It was probably left by The Very Old Folk I passed on my way here. They seem to be leaving them on everyone’s doorstep for some reason or other.”

“Oh, I see. Well, do come in. Come in!”

We made ourselves comfortable on the viridian velvet couch and I poured us both some brandy. “So, what brings you by, my friend?”

“Well, I was over in The Tomb, doing some research on The Mystery of the Grave-Yard, when like The Shadow Out of Time I got the most brilliant idea I’d like to run past you. I was thinking of investigating The Horror in the Museum that happened last month and was wondering if you’d like to help since you have a penchant for the bizarre. Surely, I could use all the help I could muster. I must warn you, however, it would involve spending much time In The Vault and I know how you feel about tight spaces. Perhaps you’d like to take a stroll with me down the street to The Festival and discuss it?”

“Well, I have been having a hard time relaxing around here today so perhaps a nice stroll would do me some good. I’m not sure how I could help but I’m willing to hear you out.” Just as I was crossing the room to get my shoes and coat, the telephone rang. “That must be The Call of Cthulhu I’ve been waiting for. Please excuse me my friend, I must take this call.”

A few moments later, flabbergasted, I languidly placed the telephone back in its cradle, staring into space.

“What is it my friend? You look like someone died.”

“Someone did... Cthulhu’s brother, Azathoth. He took a sudden turn for the worse. I can't believe this happened... I just can't believe he's dead."

"Well, my friend... not if I can help it!"

Thursday, January 13, 2011


Well, you may not realize that today is a very special day. It is the same day, exactly one year ago in fact, that I created my blog. Although I don't blog all that frequently, I do enjoy it immensely. So, in order to celebrate my "bloggiversary," I decided to whoop it up in many ways. Yesterday, I popped open a bottle of the bubbly and had myself a nice little party for one. Then, I had myself the most scrumdilicious steak and lobster dinner with garlic green beans, pilaf, and crème brulee for dessert. Finally, I joined a gym in order to work off some of my celebratory cholesterol-artery-clogging-calories.

This morning, in my exhilaration of starting off a new year of blogging on the right foot, I packed my Hello Kitty vinyl gym bag with workout clothes of a somewhat fashionable nature, a new pair of squeaky sneaks, terrycloth sweatbands specifically designed for the wrists and brow, and drove myself over to the Fun Time Fitness Center.

I walked briskly through the front door, proudly displaying my newly acquired membership card of the photo ID sort, ready to sweat my butt off. And what do you think I find the instant I set foot inside the door??? Zombies taking a Zumba class! What the hell? I mean, COME ON! It's not that I have anything against zombies... they're cool in a creepy sort of way... it's just that they have no rhythm! You know what I'm sayin'?

Befuddled, I stood and watched as the mindless zombies attempted to keep up with the merengue song of choice, swaying in their rhythmically-challenged way of theirs, relentlessly bumping into each other, unaware of miscellaneous body parts strewn about the floor. I mean, isn't that a health hazard???

Zumba, as you may know, is a total body transformation fitness program. Now, doesn't it seem redundant for zombies to want to totally transform their bodies? I mean, haven't they done that already? What is left to transform into? Hence the redundancy. Perhaps a shower and deodorant would be more productive.

Unable to fathom working out with zombies I found myself sipping an energy drink called the Skinny Monkey at the juice bar. But when a zombie named Richard approached me to my right and did nothing but eyeball me up and down, with the one measly eye he had left, mumbling something that sounded like, "Braaaains," I headed straight for the door and zoomed home to work out with the Wii in the comfort of my zombie-free home, keeping my brain nicely tucked away in its cranium-protected dome, thank you very much.