My black hole said to your black hole, "I'm gonna set your mass on fire!"

You know what I find interesting? When you're in the shower first thing in the morning, and you got less than five hours of sleep the night before, there's this weird time warp thing that happens where it seem to take more than five hours to wash your damn hair.

Or is it just me?

Seriously, I'm not even sure I washed my hair this morning. It's wet, I'll give it that. But clean? Eh.... well... I'm almost pretty sure, but not completely sure. I remember putting the shampoo in my hand. And I'm pretty sure the hand's next destination was my head. I just kind spaced out for a bit. Or several bits. Five hours worth of bits.

I think there's a black hole or some other space/time disturbance in the force in my bathroom. Yeah. That's it.

So let's see here... I've got wet probably-but-not-definitely-washed hair. Did I forget anything else?

Deodorant?

Check!

Brushed teeth?

Check!

Underwear?

Check!

Okay. I think all systems are a go for Operation First Exam Since Being Back At School. That's tonight. At 7pm. Also due at 7pm? My first term paper written as a Return To School student. And its still not done. Eek! But then, that's typical of my term paper writing style. Saving things until the last minute. And strangely enough, more often than not, the later I write the paper, the better grade I get. It's weird. Just like the Shower Black Hole Phenomenon.

Not that I planned it that way this time. With this paper I was going to finish it at least a day early! Yeah. That was the plan. But I ended up writing most of it last night. It just... happened. Against my will. And my better judgment. And.... well, it's a long story full of whiny self tidbits that's best left bottled up inside my psyche and I don't have time for that because holy crap I have to finish writing the damn paper!

You know what? Turns out I'm really out of practice at writing essays. I remember how to do it, its just the actual execution that's a little rusty. Bah! So anyways, the paper is only half done, well, more like 3/4's done. There's just a lot of editing and juggling still to do. Oy. Me thinks I'll be spending every second I can eek out of work on it. Yay!

Like the guy who had the Space Special said: Oh no, not again!

I woke up this morning.

To an alarm.

And I thought, why the hell is an alarm going off during the weekend for chrimeny's sake?

Then I realized - slowly - painfully - that it was, indeed, Monday.

Fuck.

The Autumn Poem - Fifty Word Fiction Friday Vol. 25

The 50 Word Fiction Friday theme this week is: Autumn.

The Story Behind The Fiction (A.K.A. The Inspiration): I was reading John Milton last night - particularly L'Allegro. This poem wasn't part of the reading assignment (I have to read bits of Paradise Lost by Monday, in between writing a paper and studying for a midterm for my other lit class. Oy.) but the 'Intro to Milton' pages I read made the poem sound really interesting. So I thought, hey, what the hay! and read it just for fun. Because it's always nice to read something for fun, especially in between reading several somethings you're to be tested on later. So I read L'Allegro last night (and enjoyed it) and a couple of hours before that I was reading part of Spencer's Faerie Queen. Since I've got the words of these two brilliant poets in my head I couldn't help but be inspired.

I love writing poetry. To me, writing poetry is like playing golf; I don't have to be good at it to enjoy it. :) Lately, I've just been flirting around with poetry writing, scribbling down a line or two here and there whenever something strikes my fancy. But today, well, I guess I just have poetry on the brain. So the Muse, armed with a poetry-gorged-mind and my total infatuation with Autumn inspired the following poem.

The Autumn Poem

The road I walked, as oft I do,
When eyes of mine espied a hue
So vibrant there it made me pause
To wonder at it's wondrous cause.
The Maker soon before my sight
Came robed in crimson golden light,
The source of Nature's gaiety,
Dear Autumn in her majesty.

And yes, its EXACTLY fifty words! And perfect iambic tetrameter! (Well, I think). I'm still amazed I got it to 50 words. It was 49, actually, but one little change and voila! 50 words bay-bee! Now all I need to do is come up with a better title than The Autumn Poem. :) But it will do for now.

The Great Vending Machine Cheeseburger Experiment

i'm about to eat a cheesburger i bought from a vending machine.

if you don't hear from me in the next couple of hours... call 911.

*gulp*

the silliness of it all

Yet another conversation with my favorite chatbot, Jabberwacky, served up here for your reading pleasure.


JW: Are you male or female?

ME: Female.

JW: Male.

ME: Is that what you are? Or are you playing the Say Whatever Pops Into Your Head game?

JW: I guarantee there are no battleships in Nevada.

ME: Is that a money back guarantee? Because pole dancing just doesn't pay what it used to.

JW: On France and the sky?

ME: In rubber and the pie!

JW: The silliness of it all.

ME: Fo shizzle botzizzle.

Honestly folks, I'm not making up his responses. My responses, on the other hand, are totally my fault.

Randomness...

Geez, it seems like forever since I last posted. Hasn't even been a week yet, but it feels like forever. Well, not forever... that's a bit too dramatic sounding... it just feels like... well, like its been a long time. Too long. Miss ya, friend. Been gone too long. Meant to write. Yeah, meant to... but 'meant to' isn't worth much more than a sack of shit in a sugar shop. In the words of one of my favorite bands, America, singing one of my favorite songs: "I been one poor correspondent, and I've been too, too hard to find. But it doesn't mean you ain't been on my mind." Geez, I love that song.

I've started to write a few posts but never got passed the first few sentences. Or past even the brain pool of electric thought. I just have nothing to say right now. Except for, of course, that I've got nothing to say. And my brain is all mushy and full of little school-related-stress balls. Little stress balls, no-big-dealio stress balls, but lots of little balls makes cause for a bit of ADD. At least for me. These last few days in particular. I just can't focus on a task for too long of a time. Which is a pain in the ass when I really want to finish my homework and get it out of the way so I don't have to worry about it and ooooh look the Emmy's are on!

I did manage to write a 50 word fiction story last Friday. Wrote it right under the gun of this wondrous thing called a Deadline. The deadline being 4 pm, which is when I need to be clocked out at work. So I finished it, and posted it at The Wonderful Home of The 50 Word Fiction Friday Challenge, but I didn't have time to post it here. And once I got home, as it happens more often than not on a Friday, I don't want to even look at the computer. I only turned my home computer on once this weekend, and that was to update some school application stuff. And to pretend like I was actually doing homework. I had three pages worth of 'journals' to write, only three pages. And I wrote maybe three fourths of a page. But its not due until tomorrow night, so I'm all good on that front. I hope. And today I have a quiz I didn't study for, but I'll have about twenty minutes from the time I find a parking spot to the time class starts. So no prob Bob. And we still haven't covered everything in class that will be on the quiz, so as long as I pay attention in class today the quiz, which will be at the end of the class, should be no problem. Hopefully I'm over my ADD moment and oooh look its Talk Like A Pirate Day!

Arrrrrg!

I might post my 50 word fic later today. Because I'd like to keep it for posterity or whatnot. (And I might cheat and list the post date as Friday, because I am Lord of the Blog afterall). But for now, I have a meeting to go to. And before that, I have to synchronize the clock on my cell phone with the punch out clock at work so that I can set an alarm that will ring two minutes before I have to clock out. Because while the meeting is supposed to be only an hour all the guys I work with are Chatty Kathy's and the meetings always run long. Which is really a problem when I try and get my daily intake of water over and done with in the first few hours of work, because after an hour or so I'm about ready to pee out my eyeballs. Anywhoo... so now that the meeting has been moved from Tuesdays to Mondays, and they're set to start only an hour before I have to leave for school, I'll be able to leave the meeting early. Yeah! Sorry boys, gotta run, don't stop the whining on account of my absence.

See, this is why I haven't posted in a few days. All I've got is long ass ramblings that get to no point and oooh look somebody just made a fresh pot of coffee!

I'm feeling like one hell of a ringy dingy right now.

Must be the low sugar. Or something. Give me some chocolate! STAT!

Anywhoo... I'm sitting here in the school library, getting my homework groove on (well, until now that is), when I hear someone behind me say, rather impatiently, "Ring ring!" And again, "Ring ring!"

Only its not a 'someone'.

It's a someone's cell phone. With a recording of someone yelling "Ring! Ring!" as a freaking ringtone!

It's my new favorite ringtone. And I covet it dearly.

Also... well, this got me to thinking... when I grow up and own my very own house... one with my very own front door bell/chime/doohickey... I want the chime to be a recording of someone saying "Ding-a-ding-dong bay-bee!" Because that would be uberspiffy.

Even spiffier would be a ringtone of Lily Tomlin saying, "one ringy dingy... two ringy dingies..." Hmmm... I wonder if they sell those somewhere...

Do your nose hairs hang low? Do they flutter to and fro?

Would you rather...

1. lapse into epileptic seizures every time somebody says the word "squid" OR cluck like a chicken every time somebody says "chicken"?

Clucking sounds more fun than seizing so I'll go for that one.

Plus, I like the word 'squid'.

Squid squid squidy squid.

Just typing it makes me feel al squishy inside. I'd really hate to have it tainted by epileptic association.

2. have no bones, but complete muscular control of every part of your body OR four arms?

Four arms would be useful, especially when I'm having to hold back the rush of adoring fans, but I think I'd rather have complete muscular control. It's been a as-of-yet unrealized dream of mine to be able to wink with my right eye.

3. your nose hair grow down past your chin no matter how much you cut it OR have earlobes twice the normal size?

Earlobes twice the normal size. I don't think they make hats stylish enough to hide nose hair.

4. have people constantly mistake your sex (man v. woman) OR your sexual preference (straight v. gay)?

I think I'd be more offended if people thought I was a guy, so that I'd pick the second option.

"We just stood there looking at each other. There was so much electricity, you could have executed ten fat murderers!" *

My desk neighbor Sal and I have been laughing about Carl's Bad Cavern again today because we like to beat dead joke horses around here. Actually, it all started with me trying to make a joke. I use the word 'trying' because like most of my attempted jokes, this one fell flat like a lame horse at a ballet recital.

I don't know what it is I have against horses today, but I'd like to give a quick shout out to my horse constituency and say sorry dudes for the horrible horse analogies.

Anywho... so I'm trying to explain to Sal why my joke would have been funny (explained jokes = hysterical!) if a coffee bean was in fact called a coffee nut.

While I'm talking about beans and nuts Sal says something similar to, "blah blah blah like Carl's women."

Again, like last time, I thought Sal was making fun of Carl, who's been married to several women.

So I says, "Huh? Whatdyou say?" because while I have perfect hearing, I sometimes can't hear worth diddlysquat.

"Carl's junior," Sal says again.

"Oh." I said. I'm still not quite getting it, but... "Ohhhhhh..." so then once again, I'm thinking he's making fun of Carl. And his... uh... 'junior'.

Now, I blame this path of reasoning due to the fact that I watched an old episode of Coupling last night where Patrick talks about 'Junior Patrick'.

So I says to Sal, "I can't believe you just went there."

And again, just like last time, he looks at me funny, not quite understanding what I mean.

"What do you mean?" asks Sal The Confused Coworker. "I just... said... Carl's Jr."

That's right. Carl's Jr., not Carl's junior. Huge difference there, and I finally I heard the distinction that time.

Turns out Sal was just trying to say he was hungry for Carl's Jr.

Turns out that I have a very dirty mind this morning.

"Oh." I said, and tried to explain. Again. "I thought you meant Carl's... juuuuunior."

Sal blushed. And cracked up. And blushed some more. Poor guy. He's not used to me making naughty references.

I think I'll shoot him an email... ask if he wants to go eat Carl's Junior Jr. for lunch today.

* blog post title is a quote from the Coupling episode Faithless, as said by Jane.

Spunk'd - 50 Word Fiction Friday Vol. 23

The 50 Word Fiction Friday theme this week is: waiting.

I wrote this awhile ago, but after I got it down to fifty words it no longer fit with the week's theme so I ditched it and wrote another one. I didn't ditch the fic completely though (obviously, since its all shiny and ready for display so early in the morning) opting to save it for a week where it would work, if ever a week should come.

I've always been a pack rat, keeping stuff on the slight chance that one day I might be able to use it for something. Because what if one day you need that specific color of used packaging ribbon? Or that thin piece of cardboard that got shipped inside some package? Or that discarded pen cap? How foolish will you feel when you realize you used to have it up until three days ago, a.k.a. The Big Exudos of Closet Paraphernalia.

I inherited this urge to save crap from my dad. I saw an old toy box of his once. It was this little wooden thing, very cute, the perfect size for holding crayons and plastic army men. Along with the crayons and the plastic army figurines were such useless things as a broken mini light bulb and the spring from the inside of a pen. When my mom suggested that he throw the broken light bulb away my dad just couldn't bring himself to do it. Because, really, he'd kept it this long... and, well, you never know!

My pack-ratty-ness always makes cleaning my room a challenge. A fun challenge - because its fun to find old stuff I've saved that I completely forgot all about - but a challenge nonetheless, because instead of cleaning my room I'll reminisce/play with/read through/etc all the stuff that I've squirreled away for that big Possible Inevitable. I never realized it before today, but it seems I'm like this with stories and pieces of stories as well.

So I've had this little 50-fic squirreled away, just waiting for the week when it would finally work. And today is the day, err... week, err... uh... yeah, here it is. Some great artists might have what's known as a 'blue period'. This is my 'S period'. :)

Spunk'd

Sassy Sue of the 76th Spunk Squad sighed. She'd been sitting by the phone for several days now, waiting studiously for a ring on the Spunk Crisis Line. Surely someone out there wasn't satisfactorily saturated with spunk! But no one called. Surprisingly, Sassy Sue was starting to feel seriously somber.

The more tired I am the more annoying you are and I only got five hours of sleep last night.

I don't mean you guys of course. Oh no-no-no-no-noooooo. I luuuuurve you guys. I'm talking about Those People over there, the ones who think they're the funniest thing since sliced pickles, the ones chuckling to themselves because no one else will chuckle. Because they're all too busy trying to keep their chuck from upping. Yep. I'm talking about Those People.

So I'm driving to class this morning, just flipping through my radio presets when I hear one of my favorite songs (When You Come Back Down) playing on a country western station. Naturally, I stop flippin' and start singing like I'm a Karoake Goddess.

When the song ends the dj comes on and says, "blah blah blah." (Excuse the rough translation.) Then the dj introduces the next song as "a song to help you wake up this morning".

Wake up? Huh? What? Is it suddenly 8am again???

Not that I wake up that late (today I was awake at 5) but I'm sure some people do. Lucky bastards.

So I look at my car's dashboard clock and see that it's 10:17am.

Heh. If you aren't already fully awake by 10:17 in the am, an upbeat country song is not going to help. (And the song wasn't even that upbeat!) Silly dj.

Well, at least I have the ears of an 18 year old.

Just had my hearing tested. Always a fun experience it is. Because I work in a factory where there's harmful noise levels my Place of Employment makes everyone take a hearing test once a year. (Actually, I think the government makes my PoE test us, but they'd probably do it anyway). Even those of us who rarely go out on the production floor (i.e. me and my fellow office buddies) have to be tested. I don't mind really, because I'd like to know when I can officially blame my selective hearing on actual documented hearing loss.

So here's the process:
Step 1: A guy in a converted truck/camper/thingamajiggy drives up and parks in our parking lot.
Step 2: Potentially Hearing Challenged employees go outside in groups of three or four.
Step 3: Sit in the back half of the converted camper hearing test-mobile and fill out a little questionnaire.

One of the questions was "Do you have a relative who has a problem with hearing loss?" I circled yes, because, as crazy as this may sound, I'm related to Old People. I know! Crazy! Did the question writer mean 'relatives who aren't naturally deaf due to oldfogyitis?' because if he/she did, he/she needs to be more specific next time.

Step 4: Watch a cheesy 'Hearing Loss Is Bad' video that you would swear was made in the 70's if it wasn't for the inclusion of Furbys.

WARNING: Furbys = noise pollution!

Step 5: Have someone who's probably not a doctor (no white coat, stethoscope, or nametag with Dr. on it) stick one of those ear probes in your ear and look for... Atlantis? Hoffa? Gas for only $1.99 a gallon? I have no idea. And being the good little informed test subject that I was, I didn't ask.

Step 6: Take one whole step to the front section of the HearingTestMobile, sit on a little stool (of which there are four), put on some bitchin' headphones, and prepare to be tested.

I'm always a little anxious at this part. I don't know why. I could miss a few beeps and I'd probably still have a decent score. And if I fail it, its not like I'll be fired over it. This is, after all, for my benefit. I know all this, and still I get paranoid that I'll miss a beep. Because dammit, I want to have perfect hearing!

The really faint beeps get me every time. Some sort of survival animal instinct that flairs up in the face of danger. Was that a beep? It sounded like a beep. It was really faint so maybe it wasn't... maybe I'm just imagining the beep. See? I can imagine it right now. Sounds just the... wait, now that was a beep. I think. Will I be penalized for guessing?

I've been at this job for about five years now. So that means four or five hearing tests. And its pretty much the same thing over and over again. So by the third test, I knew what to expect. Knew how long it would take, what the beeps sounded like, etc. So I'm sitting there, taking the test for the third time (maybe second time... wish my memory was as good as my hearing). I hear about two or three beeps. And then nothing. Nothing. And I started to freak out because I knew there were still a few more normal beeps to be beeped before the softer beeps beeped. And I thought, holy crap I'm deaf! Then I noticed my fellow test subjects were looking around with panicked looks in their eyes. Turns out someone unplugged us. Test turned off. Not deaf. Halle-freaking-luiah!

Step 7: push the button (that looks like the button on jeopardy) when you hear the beep
Step 8: get your test results

The two guys taking the test with me have been here for a couple of years, working out on the production floor all day (plus, they're fairly older gentleman, and they probably own a couple of furbys) so the lines on their graphs dipped down low. Not low enough to signal any problems, thankfully, but they still dipped. My lines? They stayed relatively at the top. Yay me! The HearingTestMobile Driver Guy got all technical when explaining the results of the other two, but when he saw mine he said, 'eh, you can pretty much hear everything.' So, I've got that going for me. :)

Step 9: sign test results saying you understand that furbys are evil noise polluters and that you... I don't remember. Dammit. Where's my memory test? Actually, I don't think I even read what I was signing. First I let a non-doctor probe my ear canals, then I sign something without reading it. D'oh! I'm feeling very secure in my choices today.

I handed my signed test results to the HearingTestMobile Driver Guy and got a copy back for my own records (which I'm having framed, of course.) But when I handed it to him, he touched the back of my hand for a longer-than-necessary time period. It was weird. It was less of a hey-someone's-flirting-with-me kind of touch and more of a creepy-camper-guy-is-feeling-up-my-hand-uninvited kind of touch. It was just... weird. So I ran out of there before he offered to check out the inside of my ear canals again.

Buttery Justice - Fifty Word Fiction Friday V22

Buttery Justice

She begged the Dairy King for leniency but he ordered the Official Toast Tosser to "Toss the Royal Toast of Justice!" anyway.

So the toast was tossed and flip it went and squish it finally landed, butter-side down.

"Off with her head!" the King exclaimed. And buttery justice was served.

The 50 Word Fiction Friday challenge this week was to use either the word buttery or the word justice in a fifty-words-only story. I choose to use both because I'm just an extra special double chocolate hot fudge bonus points whore like that.

The idea for today's 50 fic (the tossing of toast as a means of dispensing justice) came to me quickly, almost right away in fact. I let it stew in my brain a bit first, then when I had the time I opened up a new word document and let my fingers fly across the keyboard. And fly they did boy. Halfway through I began to think, this has got to be more than fifty words. But I didn't stop, making sure I got the whole thing out less I suffer from Story Idea Blockage complications (an uncomfortable affliction at best) later in the week. After I typed the last line I did a quick word count and saw that I had 100 words exactly. A nice round number, yes, but it wasn't the nice round number I wanted. 100? D'oh!

It was a bitch to try and trim it down by half. It lost some of its magic in the process, but I think it also gained a chunk of spunk as well. As I was cutting and chopping and contorting and manipulating the story I couldn't help thinking, I should be adding words to this, not taking them away! Which means there's still more of this weird little story in my head. If it doesn't drain away in the next thirty minutes I think I'll stop by this little coffee place on the way home and sit outside with some sort of snobby coffee drink, my notebook, my pen, and my muse and have at it. Or maybe I'll just work on it now. It's Friday. And I only have thirty minutes left of work. And there is nothing pressing left for me to do. I don't think I could concentrate on anything else. :)

If this blog title was audio instead of visual you'd be hearing my impression of Tony Curtis's impression of Cary Grant saying, "Judy, Judy, Judy."

First of all, speaking of Cary Grant... I love his movies!

Second of all, speaking of Judys... this Judy rocks!

And you can rock too my friends in just three, yes THREE easy steps.

1) sign up here for Blingo.

2) search

3) and win!

That's what the fabulous Judy did. And she's already won movie tickets! Since she is my fabulous friend, I won too! So go over and tell Judy that she most certainly and totally rocks.

Because I need her to keep playing and winning because I myself can't seem to win a gosh darn thing. :) I search and I search yet no luck do I have. No Blingo mojo can I find. Oh well.

Hey, look at this pretty graphic!



Doesn't it make you want to click on it! And play Fill In The Blank! And click on the search button several times a day!