Flash Fiction Writing Contest! Cash Prize!
Category: Writing and Poetry

Click Here!This is an open call to bloggers for micro-length short stories with a Halloween and/or horror theme. There's no entry fee/catch/hidden agendas whatsoever, and there is a cash prize. Thanks.

11:17 AM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Moving to a new blog

I've come to the well-earned conclusion that myspace blogs are clunky and not very good for reading if you're not a myspace member, so I've finally decided to move. My new blog address is

http://shiveredsky.blogspot.com/

Thanks!

1:59 PM - 4 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Working the night shift in a large building
Current mood: apathetic
Category: Jobs, Work, Careers

So, my partner at work and I've "volunteered" to submit a pictoral essay for the internal newsletter about working the late shift. We haven't taken any pictures yet, but I already have several in mind:

Currently listening : Monday Morning Apocalypse By Evergrey Release date: 04 April, 2006

1:59 AM - 1 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Whataburger Hookers and Literary Agent, Barbara Bauer, Ph.D.
Category: Writing and Poetry

Went to Whataburger again (I know, I know. But I like their French fries all of a sudden). The hooker was there again at the payphone, but she didn't say anything to me. But it for some reason reminded me of a subject I promised to blog about earlier today. Literary Agent, Barbara Bauer, Ph.D.

Not too long ago, the fine folks at Writer Beware posted their list of the 20 worst agents out there. Finding a literary agent is a long, difficult process. And it doesn't help when many of the folks out there pretending to help authors are really trying to prey on them. Here's a simple rule of thumb: don't ever pay an agent anything. Don't ever use an editing service "recommended" by an agent, either. Some agents do charge reasonable amounts for photocopying and mailing, but the few legit agents out there that do charge such fees take it out of your payment from publishers. Don't ever write a check to an agent. If they get paid by you, what's their incentive to find a publisher?

Anyway, here's the list:

"Writer Beware suggests that writers searching for agents avoid questionable agents, and instead query agents who have actual track records of sales to commercial publishing houses.

THE LIST:

• The Abacus Group Literary Agency
• Allred and Allred Literary Agents (refers clients to "book doctor" Victor West of Pacific Literary Services)
• Capital Literary Agency (formerly American Literary Agents of Washington, Inc.)
• Barbara Bauer Literary Agency
• Benedict & Associates (also d/b/a B.A. Literary Agency)
• Sherwood Broome, Inc.
• Desert Rose Literary Agency
• Arthur Fleming Associates
• Finesse Literary Agency (Karen Carr)
• Brock Gannon Literary Agency
• Harris Literary Agency
• The Literary Agency Group, which includes the following:
  Children's Literary Agency
  Christian Literary Agency
  New York Literary Agency
  Poets Literary Agency
  The Screenplay Agency
  Stylus Literary Agency (formerly ST Literary Agency)
  Writers Literary & Publishing Services Company (the editing arm of the above-mentioned agencies)

• Martin-McLean Literary Associates
• Mocknick Productions Literary Agency, Inc.
• B.K. Nelson, Inc.
• The Robins Agency (Cris Robins)
• Michele Rooney Literary Agency (also d/b/a Creative Literary Agency and Simply Nonfiction)
• Southeast Literary Agency
• Mark Sullivan Associates
• West Coast Literary Associates (also d/b/a California Literary Services)"

Currently reading : The Chronicles of Narnia By C. S. Lewis Release date: 14 June, 2005

1:30 AM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Monday Meme
Category: Blogging

I'm seeing if technorati tags work well with these crappy-ass myspace blogs. I'm doing my awmondaymemes. I really should port this to a respectable system like blogspot, whatever, but I know I'm more apt to actually write in it if it's attached to Myspace because I'm coming here anyway.  The thing that sucks is that only Myspace members can comment.  Plus having a myspace blog is like having a poem published by poetry.com. It doesn't count. But does that matter? Nah. Who cares.

Here's the question of the (Mon)day:

Are you some one who
(a) starts working on your taxes the moment you get your W-2?
(b) puts it off a bit but actually does it before April rolls around?
(c) a last minute preparer
(d) heck, I pay someone to do it for me

Usually A, but this year was a bit of a hassle 'cause I put off doing the stupid state taxes.

Are you a
(a) traditional paper and pen, put it in an envelope filer
(b) turbo-tax (or the like) all the way!
(c) heck, I pay someone to do it for me - who knows what they do

Turbotax online, all the way, baby!

If you could make only one change to the tax laws, disallowing total repeal of all taxes, what change would you want to see first?

Taxes are a pain in the ass. Make it easier. Or better yet, let us pick where a portion of our federal taxes go. If we can control just 10 percent, we'd end up with governmental agencies lobbying for our money, maybe even demonstrating they're efficient and worthy causes. Who knows?

If you get (or just imagine that you got) a refund - would you
(a) save it
(b) save it and immediately adjust your witholding so you get more money each month and Uncle Sam and you are even next year
(c) spend it on something you planned on getting with your refund
(d) rejoice in your good luck and spend it on something spontaneous and fun
(e) heck, I paid my refund to my tax preparer, this is just a 'reimbursement'

I'm adding my own answer to this one:

(f) Get it then wonder what the hell you spent it on three weeks later.

AWMondayMemes

I'm seeing if this going to work. I'm going to post something else in a minute about slutty literary agents.

12:30 AM - 1 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

I hate doing my taxes
Current mood: cynical

Thanks to all of you who sent friend requests to the Stupid Human Tricks thing. I didn't realize so many of you freaks read this thing.

We finished, submitted, received our refund for our federal taxes way back in February, but I never submitted the state taxes 'cause we owed money. So I just spent an hour wrasslin' with that. The stupid state of Arizona has given us more trouble than anyone else when it comes to this crap. Makes me want to move back to WA state where they don't have state taxes.

Anyways, got back on the running now that my gnards aren't hurting so much. I'm taking it easy though for now. There's a 5k in May I want to run, and the next big thing I'm training for is Jim Click's Run-N-Roll on October 1st, which is 8K around the UofA campus. There's an 8 Mile race in September, but I don't think I'd be able to handle that. Especially not on the mountainous course. Also, on Thanksgiving there's a 5k that looks really fun that's through Reid park cross country. I have that entire week off, and if we don't end up going to a cabin like we did two years ago, I would really like to do that. Though I'd rather go to the cabin.

I spontaneously started working on a short story that I tried to write about four years ago, but the idea fizzled. Hopefully it will work this time.


Link of the day: Here's the blog of that cannibal guy

Technorati Profile

1:42 AM - 1 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Whine, rant, plug
Category: Music

First off, I'm never shaving my balls again. I don't know how the guys in pornos do it. This itching is killing me.

My knee has suddenly decided to hurt again, and it's starting to piss me off. It should be better by now. I haven't run on it in ten days. I'm ready to get running again, and I won't be able to if it's in pain.

I decided to make a Stupid Human Tricks myspace, just for the hell of it. (It's an old band of mine that is long defunct). I need to track down some more pictures and the cover art for the CD. If you read this, please add http://myspace.com/tucsonsht because it's kinda lame right now with only one friend.

Link of the day: You've probably seen the top ten most ridiculous black metal pics of all time. Well, here's the Other Top Ten Most Ridiculous Black Metal Pics of All Time.

1:21 AM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Your Procedure
Category: Writing and Poetry

11:29 You arrive for your appointment just in time. The parking lot at St. Mary's hospital is completely full, and you and your wife have to park way out on the side. Then you get lost inside the hospital, and the one elevator you find goes to every floor except the second one, where your appointment is. Though it is of no matter. You're there on time.

11:35 Having paid your co-pay of forty dollars, you're immediately led into a small room in the back of the office. "Take off your pants," the nurse tells you. She looks like a nurse you'd find in a urology clinic. Someone designed to remind you that you want to be sterile. You're given a paper towel thing to cover yourself, and she leaves without drawing the curtain. Across the hall you see an elderly Mexican man wearing no pants, and he has tears crawling down his cheeks in slow motion. You don't know why he's crying, but you get the impression whatever it is, it's terrible. You decide after a moment you don't want to know why, and you draw the curtain.

11:38 "You did a good job shaving," the Doctor says, causing you to laugh. You remember the night before, awkwardly shaving down there, twisting yourself like a naked pretzel trying to get the right spot, regretting that you didn't take up your wife's offer to do it for you.

11:39 You are on your back on the table, and the doctor suggests you keep your hands behind your head. There are no nurses. There is nothing on the ceiling except white tiles. He doesn't ask you if you're sure. With a fluid motion, he grabs your penis in a gloved hand, pushes it up against your stomach, and throws a long strip of tape across your belly, pinning it there.

11:40 "This will be cold," he says, producing a large cup filled with magenta iodine. He swabs it liberally all over you, making chit chat while he does it. He asks you about your job. You answer, but you're focusing on the plain ceiling, and you don't remember what you say. It is cold, colder than you expected.

11:41 "This is a bee sting. A prick followed by a burn. Don't kick me." And just like that, a needle that you haven't even seen is slid into your scrotum. It stings. "Here's the burn." And it burns. You've been stung by bees before, but you've never been stung in the balls, and it's just as bad as you imagined it would be. And you have a good imagination. You realize he probably has been kicked in the head before. You feel vaguely proud you didn't.

11:42 He turns and begins to unwrap a series of instruments. "You'll probably feel numb right away." He's right. You do feel numb.

11:43 He turns toward you, and he holds a scalpel. As he reaches down, you suddenly decide you're not numb at all. But he cuts, almost casually, and he puts the scalpel away. You didn't feel a thing. You decide you don't want to look down any more, and you stare at the plain, white ceiling tiles. You hear a clip, and you quickly look down. He has a pair of surgical scissors, and he's pulling something out of you. He snips. He picks up what looks like a soldering iron before you look away again, and you can smell burned hair and flesh. Your stomach lurches, and you promise not to look again.

11:45 "This may burn." He's giving you another shot, but you don't feel anything. He continues to click, snip, and burn. He talks to you casually, happily. He remembers you wore Family Guy boxers during the initial visit, and he mentions them. It's his favorite show, and for some reason, that terrifies you.

11:46 Click, snip, burn.

11:47 "You'll feel pressure." You venture a look, and you see a fold of your skin stretched taut as he pulls it up. You realize he's sewing you up. It's over. "These stitches dissolve on their own," he says. "You have them on the inside and on the outside."

11:48 He asks you if you remembered to bring a jock strap. You did, but your wife has it, and she's waiting outside. He sticks his head out the door, which you suddenly realize was open the entire time, and asks a nurse to go get her.

11:49 Your wife comes into the room, and she stops short. Her eyes immediately shoot toward your crotch, and all the blood drains from her face. She opens her mouth, but she doesn't say anything.

"It's the iodine," the doctor says. "It's not blood."

You look down, and you're sitting in a puddle of iodine. There's lots of it, and it looks like a miasma of piss and blood. It's a scene from Hellraiser. You begin to laugh.

"Oh my god," she says. "I thought I was going to throw up."

And then he slowly pulls the tape off holding your penis up. You realize the doctor's comment about shaving well may have been sarcastic. It is almost as painful as the bee sting. He covers you with gauze and slides your jock strap on. The curtain is open, and people walk by.

The old Mexican man is still there in the next room, but his pants are now on, and he's stopped crying. But you see his eyes, and it's still there. For a moment you inexplicably question your decision, but that moment is fleeting.

The doctor shakes your hand, and he's gone.

11:51 Your vasectomy is done. You're given instructions from the nurse (no sex for a week, spend the weekend resting, no soap, no bath, no other things) and a bag that contains two cups. After twenty ejaculations, you fill the first one up with your twenty-first. Take it to a lab. Repeat the next week. Gotta make sure the operation took.

11:53 You're out of the office, looking at your watch, realizing the whole thing took barely twenty minutes. You don't feel a thing down there, but you know you will once the bee sting wears off. It's hard to walk. It's not nearly as bad as you dreaded.

But still, you feel different.

1:15 AM - 1 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Ahh, Spring. Life has come full circle.
Current mood: nostalgic
Category: Jobs, Work, Careers

This a completely true story, and it is less than an hour old.

I just love spring.

It's getting warmer, and that can mean only one thing: the hookers are coming back to Park avenue and S. Sixth. There are a few plucky ones who hang out all year, but now that the weather isn't so bad (it was 90 yesterday!) they will soon be out en force.

I just got solicited while going through the drive-thru at Whataburger at South Sixth and (Ajo?). The woman was about forty years old, Hispanic, and she looked like a normal soccer mom. She was pretending to talk on a pay phone just past the window, so when you drive away you're still going slow with your window down. It's a perfect setup.

"Hey, want your dick sucked?"

Those of you who know me, know of the saran-wrapped man incident of 1994. That also happened to me while I was at a Whataburger drive-thru window, and I do not eat there that often.

The Saran Wrap man made an appearance in my short story, "A Trailer Park Fairy Tale." He didn't say anything to me in real life, but in the story he asks my protag if he can give him a blow job.

Now it really happened. Full circle.

I always look back at that first incident as a sort of turning point. I was having a bad day, on my way home from a gig with my band. I stop at the drive-thru, and while I'm waiting, the Saran Wrap man walks by on the sidewalk in front of me. A completely naked, fat black man wrapped head to toe in what I believe is Saran Wrap. The man looks at me for a moment, and he keeps going. As I pull out, he is gone.

A fraternity prank? A mental patient? A guy playing sex games, suddenly kicked out and trudging home? I don't know, but it was one of the weirdest things I'd ever seen.

Just when you start to think life is falling into a pattern, an inevitable system that doesn't exist except to support itself, a wrench comes flying out of nowhere and tosses gears everywhere.

Yet life still goes on.

The very next day, after that incident, I started writing what would eventually become my first published short story.

The hooker isn't nearly as provocative, until you put it in context. The circle is complete.

Life is strange, it is amazing, it is horrible. It is forty hours a week, doing the same thing over and over. It is hookers at the drive-thru.

It is without pattern, no matter what they say. Even if there is a full circle, it doesn't repeat itself. This day, this new day is different.

It is spring.

1:20 AM - 1 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Ladies, it's your last chance.
Current mood: pessimistic
Category: Writing and Poetry

So, I'm getting a vasectomy on Friday.

If you want your very own Mattling, you better act now. And watch out for my wife, 'cause she'd probably have an issue with that.

I keep having this waking nightmare of the guy sneezing right when he's about to plunge the scalpel into my balls.  That would be just wonderful, and it'd be just my luck. I would have to move to some place foreign and be a eunuch.

I'm more traumatized by the prospect of having to shave my wang. I try to keep myself well-groomed, but it's gonna itch. And nothing is worse than itching in the incision area.

Anyway, my knee feels better tonight. A nasty bruise has formed, but hopefully I'll be better enough to get one decent workout in before Friday. I'll have to take a week off of running.

I submitted "The Star Lotus" to Orson Scott Card's Intergalatic Medicine Show.  http://www.intergalacticmedicineshow.com It's a good, quarterly market. Pays .06 a word, which ain't bad. This is another long shot.

Link 'o the day:

 

Currently listening : Funeral for a Friend By The Dirty Dozen Brass Band Release date: 11 May, 2004

12:55 AM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Young Earth, Ninjas, and Grapefruit
Current mood: sore
Category: Sports

I did it. My first 5K in over 10 years. 11,000+ runners.

I'm not dead. And neither of my legs have fallen off, though my left knee--which has always been the good knee--is swollen up like a grapefruit. I tripped and fell on it about 2 miles in and had to walk it off for about 200 meters. And now I can't remember if I'm supposed to put hot stuff or cold stuff on it. But other than that, it was a pretty flawless performance. For me at least.

My time? Thirty-one minutes flat according to my own timer (I didn't run the competitive, timed race because I didn't want my snail-like time placed on the internet). A terrible, shameful time to experienced runners. But well within my personal goal of "Finishing without keeling over." Next 5K goal is under 30 minutes. I eventually want to get down to a respectable sub 24 minute.

I'm glad I have Sundays off. Sopranos tonight took a hilarious dig at Young Earthers. Twas a good episode. Big Love was also great. The writers of that show have an uncanny ability to answer (or tease the answer to) questions just as they start to nag. I hope HBO keeps it.

Oh, and my Ninja story got its second rejection over the weekend. Another "Great Story, but Not For Us." On to the next place, TBA.

Link of the day: Race for the Cure

Currently listening : Synchestra By Devin Townsend Band Release date: 31 January, 2006

1:24 AM - 1 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

My legs are going to fall off.
Current mood: aggravated

It's less than a week before I have to haul my ass 3.1 miles around Reid Park, and I am having serious doubts about my ability to do it.

I know I can go three miles. If those fat old ladies can do it, so can I. Plus, I used to run three miles a day as a warm up. It's not that. I just want to be able to do it well, and I'm concerned that's not going to happen.

My goal was to run the 5K and finish. I've done pretty well considering in January I couldn't run a quarter mile without puking a lung onto the treadmill. I know I can flop along at a tedious 4-mile-per-hour pace and finish in 45 minutes or so. But it's embarrasing to be that slow, especially when I used to be so fast. But my goal wasn't to do it fast. It's to finish. Still, the macho part of me isn't sure whether or not to point and laugh or gently tug me out of the race.

My competitive goal isn't until the fall season, and I'm right on track. I've been religious with my workouts. Grrrrr.

Link of the day:  Freaky Dreams Auto Dream Analysis

1:45 AM - 1 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment