Challenge – The Kitty Kind!

I do love a good challenge. And my buddy Ray, even when on vacation, never disappoints.

The idea is to take the photo and describe how the cat sees the world. So, challenge accepted.

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My story titled The Psychotic Bipolar Cat.

Oh, it’s all so lonely. No one could possibly understand me or what I go through in a day. I mean, I’m orange for God’s sake! I’m the red-headed step child of the cat world. I can only bring home so many birds before the human gets mad. She just doesn’t understand my sense of humor.

Oh, what’s a cat to do? What? I’ll tell you. Eat and nap. Those are my options. They’re not even good options.

Ah, WWMD! What Would Morris Do? I’ll tell you. He would eat and nap. That would be his options. But I feel he might actually enjoy it. Maybe that bird I talked to before I killed it was right. Maybe I am manic-depressive. I mean, I get all amped up about bird feathers then slovenly depressed when I’ve done the deed of death to the poor thing. I can’t win. I do like the song Manic Depression by Jimi Hendrix. Is that a sign?

No, cat. That’s not a sign. Now, when you grab an Uzi and mow down a McDonald’s, well, then we need to talk. At any rate, that’s the cat tale, so to speak. Hope you enjoyed it. Look for my next post possibly soon and possibly on the subject of Sunday Photo Fiction. Until next time . . .

Putin and America

Hello, everyone. I haven’t talked politics in a long while and I’m not sure why I’m posting about politics now, but, I just wonder . . . does Donald Trump call Vladimir Putin “Vladdy Daddy” when they’re in bed together or has their relationship reached the terms-of-endearment stage yet?

Socialism isn’t the enemy of democracy. Scandalous, lying-ass presidents who are in bed with Putin are! Trump intends to fleece our economy into his bank account under any means necessary and leave our country even more broken than it was before he took office. Anyone who can’t see this is as blind as Trump loves them to be.

The End.

World Map Challenge – A Jamaican Daydream

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Now, I do love a good literary challenge. And this one was unique. The World Map Challenge suggests that I write a story based on a literary hero or author and a place I would like to eventually visit. My place is Negril, Jamaica, and my author is James Thurber. Although, I probably won’t attempt what my protagonist James Thurber attempted.

If you’d like to participate:

Rules:

  1. Choose your dream spot destination (never been before!).
  2. Explain shortly – why would you like to visit the place? (you can add the photo)
  3. Pick any literary hero or author and create a story, flash or poem about visiting that dream-destination.
  4. The style and the genre of the writing – any. Link to the blog that nominated you. Bend the rules if you have to…
  5. Spread the challenge: nominate 3-5 blogs.

The rules say “Bend the rules . . .” so I’m bending them into a non-nomination type challenge. I won’t be nominating other blogs. Without further ado, here’s my tale titled Negril and Its Secrets.

Negril – Jamaican resort town on the western side of the island – saw Mr. Thurber as the mild-mannered no one that he felt himself to be. James had written several pieces that had been published but he still saw himself in his mind’s eye as a non-effectual person. He may write a hundred stories in his lifetime of Walter Mittys being heroes of action, but he’d still inevitably feel like a hero of the mundane. He nursed his drink at the bar while people chatted and socialized around him.

A man beside him chatted up a woman that he knew the man had just met. The man said he’d tackled a bear at one point of his life when he was on vacation in the Appalachian Mountains. Oh, well, it was a bear cub, and its mother wasn’t around. So, he bopped it in the nose as he wrestled with the clawed beast. The bear hightailed away from his campsite once it had gotten a whiff of the man’s prowess. James wondered how much of the man’s story was a Walter daydream. People have often a different recollection of past events after the fact. The past is often built on ego and luck and not much else.

Time to check out some other place had arrived, James felt. Some place where people were more real and less cartoonish. He’d seen Bugs Bunny and some of Bug’s prowess. The camping man and Bugs sounded a lot alike. He’d hate to think a camping man could pick up a gullible, drunk woman in a Negril bar on the premise of a cartoon. More lucky stars had fallen for less, James supposed.

“You finished, Mr. Thurber?” asked the bartender.

“Yes. Um, I was going to go to Mama Hertha’s Tea Room. Can you tell me where that is?” Thurber asked.

“Ah, Mama Hertha’s. The taxi driver will know. Just be careful. It’s an open-air bar type restaurant establishment. Some seedy people have been known to shake things up there.”

“Will do. Thank you, sir.”

James left the bar expecting Mama Hertha’s Tea Room to be close by. The taxi driver began driving off the beach side into the “backwoods” as they say. Off the main drag and into rural Negril. Mama Hertha’s was apparently nothing more than a shanty off the roadside. They had a special going on. The special on their special tea. James decided to give their special tea a good go. Why not?

No one told Mr. Thurber about the special taste of the tea. It tasted how a cow patty smells. Two drinks and he thought better of the idea. But, unknown to him, two drinks were all it would take. The effects didn’t immediately start. The process took about thirty minutes. Before James knew, the tea had begun to tickle his brain into hallucinations. He could’ve sworn he just saw a bear in the weeds. Was it dancing? There were no bears in Jamaica, he thought. He supposed he was wrong possibly. The bear danced to the rhythm of the song someone had put on the jukebox. Jerry Lee Lewis’s Great Balls of Fire had never sounded so good. What’s more, Mr. Thurber had never seen a bear dance to the song. Holy . . . ! What kind of tea was that?! James thought it best he left the restaurant. He had the restaurant call him a cab. The cab pulled up and James got in.

“To the Ferry Inn,” James said.

“Got ya, mon,” the cab driver said. “Hey, need the ganja, mon?”

“No. I definitely need no ganja,” James said to the driver’s reefer reference.

The moon was so bright over the ocean when the driver stopped at James’s hotel. People moved about on the beach even after dark. There was a gorgeous woman walking on the beach. James recognized her as the gullible, drunk woman the camping guy tried to pick up. She was alone. The guy had obviously either not succeeded or gotten done with her already. He felt a pang of hurt for the woman. He approached her as he tried to maintain his physical balance as well as his mental acuity.

“Hey there,” he spoke.

“Hi. I hope you aren’t trying to pick me up like that other guy was. I saw you beside us at the bar. Oh my lord, that guy was so full of crap. He wrestled a bear, for god’s sake,” she said. Apparently, she wasn’t as gullible as he thought at first.

James said, “Yes. I think I saw the same thing happen in a Bugs Bunny cartoon.” They both laughed. James suddenly felt his spirits pick up. She had a beautiful laugh. They talked until she decided to let James see the inside of her hotel room.

The next morning when he woke, she slept soundly beside him. But this could not be the same woman he’d met last night. Whoever this woman was, she’d grown hairs out of moles on her head and, at the same time, grown a new head. James stuttered to his feet and sneaked out of the room like a ninja who’d just assassinated a dancing bear.

James Thurber flew back home reading about the place he’d just left. Mama Hertha’s Tea Room, he read, was famous for its special tea – tea made from psychedelic mushrooms.

So, that’s the tale. Hope you liked it and feel free to leave a comment! Until next time . . .

 

#coolprompts – Dirty Limericks

I do love a good challenge. Click the previous link for rules and the initial post from my buddy Ray. Although, I bent the rules on this one a bit. I was supposed to use two lines from the sonnet prompt from Shakespeare. I, however, did not use the two lines. But my sonnet still has value, I believe. It is, at the very least, funny. And, the poem has a modern twist from current events.

Check out the creativity and don’t be afraid to leave a comment. Check out the sonnet titled Dirty Limericks.

There once was a man from Nantucket,

Is often how those limericks begin,

His name was Gerard van Puckett,

He really belonged in a pin,

He didn’t ask if he could do it,

When he walked up and grabbed her breast,

She wouldn’t mind, he just knew it,

Though, the act was at no one’s behest,

She yelled for police, security, and the cops,

And when his court case comes about,

When they call him to the stand and the laughing stops,

“How dumb can you be?” the judge will shout.

Just know when you begin to physically assault,

The act of idiocy will always be your fault.

So, there it is in all its creative beauty. Nothing like a bit of poetry to start a week! Take care, all, and have a great, bright week.

Novel Writing – Thrills, Chills, and Spills

So, I had begun my second novel. I’ve written one novella to completion but haven’t published it yet. The novella is detective story (original genre, I know!) about Abner Thorpe. The story completely takes place in Knoxville, Tennessee. The book’s actually a detective story with elements of romance, humor, and sci-fi to it, as if that doesn’t cover enough bases. Thrilling! And the novella left me in chills the way it ends because I felt for the characters. They left definite impressions on my psyche as real people.

At any rate, I started the second novel based on the plot of (get this!) a guy, Varek Downy, goes to a party. At the party, an ultra-secret raffle happens. The prize to the raffle – a special piece of pizza. The piece of pizza has mushrooms on it – the magic kind! Varek falls into a dream and meets who he thinks is God. He’s asked to perform a task for God and the story goes from there.

Well, what started so elegantly and mysteriously has turned into . . . um, I’m not sure. At 22,000 words, there’s very little character development and the story is little more than a lot of action. People are going to places and doing things but I don’t feel for them. I don’t care about the characters. This is becoming, unfortunately, a Spill. (Ultra-sad face!)

I’ve decided not to scrap the story. Maybe I can come back soon and make magic happen to the bland characters. So far, though, they are a no-go.

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The first novella started from a narrative humor poem. I took that poem and kept adding and developing and the first novella came about. I didn’t have an outline at all. The plot just happened and I kept writing. I still had no plan for the story – no outline at all. The story evolved and came to a conclusion. This, mind you, took me eighteen years to complete. I’d start writing on this story, when it really became more than just a short story, then I’d set it down. For like months! I once took a six year break from writing the story at all. Anyway, as long as this story took to develop and complete, the characters are real. They feel real.

So, now, having started a second Abner Thorpe novel(la) a while back, I’m picking back up on that tale and the characters I love so much. Abner, his secretary Agnes, his protege and sidekick Kate, and his cop buddy Ira. A tale is formulating and I hope beyond hope that this story doesn’t become a Spill. We’ll see! I’m once again flying by pants-seat with no written plan – no outline at all.

What about you? Have your stories lost their “shine”? Have your tales become stale like a three-day-old biscuit sitting uncovered on the stove? Have you re-read your current story? Is it lacking a certain aspect you can’t quite put your finger on? If so, I suggest a break. Put down the pen and back away slowly. Just my two cents!

Take care, everyone, and stay out of the shadows.

#Famous Couples Challenge

I do love a good challenge. To start the week off on a good note, I’ll throw out this little ditty – Bonnie and Clyde Run Amuck.

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The rules are simple. There are no rules. Wait, that’s not right. The rules are as follows:

  • Pick any famous couple from the past (By past I mean: any couple from 1880 – to 1980).
  • Explain shortly your choice (you can add photo if you like).
  • Add the quote from the ‘famous couple’.
  • The style and the genre of the writing – any.
  • Nominate up to 3-5 blogs. Link to the page that nominated you. Have fun!

I however will be nominating no blogs.  Just writing. Here goes the tale of Bonnie and Clyde Run Amuck.

“This here’s Miss Bonnie Parker. I’m Clyde Barrow. We rob banks.” Clyde said this as Bonnie brought out cases to fill with cash.

“I might make a criminal out of you, yet, Clyde Barrow,” said Bonnie.

“Doll, you already have. Now, while we rob this bank, here, see, Bonnie’s gonna read to ya,” Clyde said. “Bonnie, read ‘em the poem you wrote.”

“While I stash your cash from the bank vault,

just know when I say it’s not my fault.

You see, the cops apprehend every Tom, Dick, and Red,

our only fighting stance is to leave you dead.

When detectives come, and, oh, they will,

you won’t know it, you’ll be shot dead still.”

“Smashing, Bonnie,” and with that, Clyde opened his Gatling gun and took the white from every eye he saw. Bodies were strung about the bank, one on top of the other. They stacked all the bank notes in their bags and walked out the door.

“You know what kind of car this is, Clyde?” Bonnie pointed at a stationary Ford.

“It’s a 4-cylinder Ford Coupe, doll,” Clyde said confidently.

“Nope,” Bonnie shot back, “it’s a stolen 4-cylinder Ford Coupe.” And on that note, they drove away in a stolen Ford.

 

 

The Word “It” – Its Detriment, Pun Pardoned

When one writes their fantastic, over-the-top, poignant, exciting novel or novella, passive language can cripple the work. There are several words one should steer clear of, but one word in particular that has little meaning and is highly ambiguous – “it“.

When I’m writing nowadays, I’m very aware of word choice. Clarification and being concise is of utmost importance. When I’m re-reading/re-writing, the word “it” smacks me in the face and says, “Hey! What did you mean by me?” Then I have to come to what conclusion was meant by this word. An example:

This club is calling for new members’ applications, and it will accept only select ones.

Now, there are actually two ambiguous words in this sentence – “it” and “ones“. Is the sentence referring with the word “ones” to “members‘” or  “applications“? In this sentence (probably a bad example), both the members and their applications are in question. To which do the words refer? “It” refers to the club but what about the other?

These unclear words can prevent clarified reading. They stop a reader in their tracks and beg the question, “What?!”

Next time you are writing, be aware of soft and ambiguous language. Clarity and detail-oriented words are the goal.

Until next time . . .

Collision and God’s Grace

So, apparently, I’m lucky to even be sitting here. Typing one-handed, I’m fortunate to be typing at all. If you have a weak stomach, turn back now. These crash photos, well, are scary to even look at.

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That’s my Toyota Corolla.

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The top was cut off to get my out. If you don’t believe in God and his grace, I invite you to look again. He’s there, and was the night this happened. I survived.

Then again, maybe I’m just a bigger bad ass than I thought. Or, maybe God really likes my sense of humor. Either way, I’m still here. (Big smiley face!)

#coolprompts – The Foiled Get-Away

In response to the #coolprompts post on my good buddy’s blog, I wrote this fact-based story. Fact-based because I know someone who actually attempted such a foolish feat. Check out my story titled The Foiled Get-Away based on the initial quote.

 

“Stealing isn’t so easy, often it’s hard work, otherwise we’d all be doing it.” Elfriede Jelinek’s quote came to Chevar’s mind as they pulled up in front of the store. Theft may not always be easy but sometimes the powers that be make it ridiculously simple.

Angela and Chevar pulled up to the curb at Hobby Lobby. There they sat. About one hundred planting pots. Just sitting there out on the front walk with the store itself closed for business. “Time to go to work,” she said and popped the trunk.

They had no plan. Just grab pots. There was no previous discussion. They planned as they went. “No,” she said. “Put those there and these inside those. There. There ya go. Now those.” They grabbed what must’ve been half Hobby Lobby’s inventory and stashed them away in the back.

“Too easy!” she said as they made their grand get-away. They skated off to the ‘hood where she sold them to her fence. He bought all for half price, his usual sum.

The next night, Angela made plans. Same thing as the night before for her and Chevar. No grand plan as to what to get – just pots. And lots of them. They’d stack the trunk full.

The two neglected to pass in front of the store first to scope the scene. They pulled around back and by the store’s side. Their lights caught a man’s face as he drank from a cup in the security vehicle that had taken up residence on the parking lot’s side. They had taken for granted that no one would be there. Great! How would they explain this as the security vehicle turned its roof lights on ablaze in blue?

Chevar said, “Yep, too easy, alright.” The cuffs tightened around their wrists.

Take care, all, and stick to the light.

 

‘Best Detectives of All Time’ Challenge – The Infamous Cannoli (18+ NSFW!)

So, I was given a writing challenge. I do love a good challenge. The challenge was to write a singular note but I got creative and wrote a dialogue-driven story. With the gauntlet thrown down, I chose to pick it up.

However, this partially pornographic short story has innuendo to spare for eons. It may not be safe for work. Just letting you know up front. Without further ado, here’s the story based on the given photo (below) titled The Infamous Cannoli.

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The story:

“Okay, Mrs. Canetti, I have only one question for you: why were you tied to a boat naked with a cannoli in your hoo-hah?” the detective asked her straight up.

“What? What are talking about? There was no cannoli in my hoo-hah! That’s disgusting. And besides, I hired you to follow my husband Jack.”

“Well, I know he wanted to put his cannoli in your hoo-hah. All those perverts are all the same. Give ‘em a brush and they take the whole palette.”

“Yes? Well, I’ve saved my palette for one man and one man only – Jack Canetti. He has my heart and always will. I was having a painting done for his birthday. Just like he likes me. In my birthday suit. And I was sure you’d find him doing nothing with anyone else anyway.”

The detective studied a minute. “So, Mrs. Canetti, there was no cannoli, you say. No cannoli canoodling of any kind.”

“None whatsoever. The artist was a perfect gentleman. He ate his cannoli. I ate mine. With a brisk spot of tea.”

“So, you’re sure he never ate your cannoli?”

“No one would eat my cannoli! I wouldn’t allow it!”

“Well, in the throes of passion, I’ve been known to eat a cannoli that I otherwise might necessarily not have. Does the man you’re saving yourself for like cannoli? These are all standard questions.”

“Yes. Standard if you make porn movies! What kind of detective are you? The porn police?!”

“I’m simply gathering all the facts, ma’am.”

“Well, gather them somewhere else! And get out of my kitchen!”

The Canetti door slammed in the detective’s face. He wasn’t sure, but he thought about cannoli. One might hit the spot. He ventured off to Panera and its fabulous all-you-can-eat cannoli bar.

That’s the story. I was told to link back and nominate FIVE blogs to participate possibly. But, just because I throw down said gauntlet your participation is not required. You’ll not lose any cool points with me if you don’t.

 My Five is Only Four:

ALYAZYA – A little something for you.

Keith Kreates!

Feelimn Hunter – Emotional Scenes

Little Fears – Tales of Whimsy, Humor, and Courgettes

 

The rules:

1.You are a private investigator. You have worked for Mrs Sally Canetti during the last 3 months – chasing her cheating husband. Write a short note to her (based on the artist photo up top). 

2. You can skip #1 (non obligatory).
3. Pick 3 best detectives of all time (movies and literature). Add the pictures/gifs if you like. Explain shortly your choices.
4. Pingback to this post-url (not to the page!).
5. Spread the word – up to 5 blogs. Be creative!

 

HAVE FUN, EVERYONE!