Seasonal Monsters

Here comes Halloween!  My favorite holiday!

Every year I set up a haunted front yard.  And every year it gets more elaborate.  My boys participate with their scary masks and blood stained shirts.  We take pride in making the little ones scream.  I warn all the parents that bring their children into my yard, “if you enter, your child probably will have nightmares.”  Several years back, my boys were happy to tell everyone they saw the next day that “we made an adorable little Scooby Doo cry!”  Ah, good times, good memories.

scary

My monsters in my haunted yard.

I got to thinking about some of the various monsters of Halloween.  You have your werewolves, demons, vampires, and mummies.  What makes these monsters scary?

Glad you asked.  You did ask that, right?

Werewolves:  They are basically overgrown dogs that will eat your flesh.  Sure, scary.

Demons:  Supernatural craziness.  They go through walls and from time to time they will put your body on pause and cause black smoke to come out of your wide open mouth.  It’s kind of a coalminer’s black lung thing without the years of mining.  (Maybe that was aliens, not demons.  Whatever.)

Black smoke is about to come out of my mouth and perhaps a nasty nose bleed.

Black smoke is about to come out of my mouth and perhaps a nasty nose bleed.

Vampires:  They suck your blood and turn you into one of their kind—which apparently leads to immortality.  That’s not really scary unless you get a really hungry vampire that drinks 100% of your blood.  Momma vampire barks out, “Listen here you little blood sucker.  You’re not leaving the table until you finish all the blood from your human!  There are vampires in this world that only get to suck blood from the necks of small animals—some of which don’t even have necks.  You should be grateful for your full human dinner!”

Mummies:  Seriously, what is scary about a mummy?  Even the way you spell the plural form of mummy makes it look cute with that “drop the Y and add I E S” thing.  “Ah, look at all the little mummies!  So adorable!”  So, mummies are long dead people wrapped up in several layers of toilet paper.  Yeah, not scary.  “Oh no!  Look out!  That mummy is wrapped in un-quilted single ply toilet paper!  Run for your life!”  He isn’t going to bite you without first choking on a wad of toilet paper.  I suppose that it might be scary if they all banded together, stormed your neighborhood, and toilet-papered every tree, top to bottom, on your street.  What a nightmare that would be!  Oh, worse if it was drizzling outside.

Buy my horror novel (wrap it in toilet paper)*
*must supply your own toilet paper

Summer Poetry

I have never really tried my hand at poetry, but I couldn’t shake these words ringing in my head.  Although I am feeling a little hesitant and vulnerable, I thought I would just put myself “out there” in order to allow you to continue to hear the voices in my head—even when they are shouting from the less masculine side of my nature.

With the end of Summer break upon us, I’ve recently reflected upon the last handful of months.  My boys are back in school—one of which is starting his high school career.  When did I become the father of a freshman student?  Crazy.  So here goes (I’m a little nervous), a completely original poem written solely by myself which I will simply title:

Summer of 2013

Welcome to the new age, to the new age
oh, oh, oh, I’m radioactive.

I’m gonna take a good girl
I know you want it
You’re far from plastic
I hate these blurred lines

I’m up all night to get some
She’s up all night for good fun
I’m up all night to get lucky

I’m waking up, I feel it in my bones
Enough to make my systems blow

You make me wanna roll my windows down
…and cruise

I know you want it

This poem, my one hundred percent original poem, simply wrote itself.  I was just hanging out this summer, listening to the radio, and the words just came to me.  That doesn’t normally happen, so I hope you enjoyed it.

Unrelated to the poem composed above, these other words came to me too:  Copyright infringement, Florida Georgia Line, Cruise, Imagine Dragons, Radioactive, Daft Punk, Get Lucky, Robin Thicke, Blurred Lines.  Although these words don’t seem to flow as nice as my completely original poem, I thought I would include them here anyway.  I’m not exactly sure why I feel compelled to do so, but my gut feeling says that it may be for the best.

There once was a book from me.
Who’s contents were filled with glee.

…never mind.  I think my poetry career ended before it began.

Murder in the Cul-de-sac

There is a dead raccoon in the middle of my street.  I once believed that my neighborhood was safe.  My now murder runs rampant, everyone is a suspect.

My street is a short cul-de-sac.  Beyond the road kill, there are only ten driveways.  Each of these houses are occupied by couples with children are not yet old enough to drive.  Which means, of the eighteen drivers that call themselves my neighbors, one of them is a raccoon murderer.  Nineteen if you count my wife.  Twenty, if you think I should be a suspect too.

Did you know that cul-de-sac is Swedish for “no-way-out”?  Use that fact the next time you’re looking to impress someone with your sophisticated knowledge base.

My wife is out of town this weekend.  The lifeless carcass was discovered shortly after her departure.  What if the slaughterer-of-Rocky is actually the woman I call my wife?

Did you know that cul-de-sac translated in old English actually means “raccoon-death-trail”?

Now, I have to look at my neighbors in a completely different light.  All of their behavior seems suspicious to me.  Was that my neighbor’s garage door that I heard in the middle of the night?  It could have been.  I think it was.

Did you know that Native Americans used the term cul-de-sac as a way of saying “you-hit-it-you-clean-it-up”?

It seems to me that everyone on my street has reduced the time it takes to get their car into the garage as quickly as possible. Was that a little patch of fur on your front bumper?

Did you know that when using American Sign Language to convey the word “cul-de-sac” it is a common mistake to interpret the hand motions to mean “would-someone-please-clean-that-crap-up-already”?

Somewhere out there in the nine houses surrounding mine, is a cold blooded killer pushed over the edge by the crazed nocturnal beast with an appetite for household garbage.  If only their garbage can lids snapped shut with a resounding click.

Did you know that if you use the term cul-de-sac in Western Australia, you might be mistaken for saying “someone-needs-to-push-it-into-the-sewer-before-it-starts-to-stink”?

Rest in peace, my little night dwelling consumer of household garbage.  May your afterlife be one big gigantic landfill.

In most translations, cul-de-sac actually means “buy-my-books”.

Hot Cars Kill Dogs

Recently I have seen a sharp increase in a particular message being display on my Facebook newsfeed.  “Hot Cars Kill Dogs”.  Many of my friends have posted this message as a plea to help the poor animals.   I find this statement just slightly misleading.  The car isn’t killing the animal, the owner is.  It’s time to wake up and stop blaming the vehicle.

But what I find even more perplexing is why the owners of hot cars kill more dogs than the owners of average cars.  Almost all models of the Jaguar and the Porsche brand names are considered “hot” cars.  What happens to the mind of the owners of these hot cars after they purchase their hot vehicles?  Suddenly they become blood thirsty with the strong desire to kill household pets.  What is difference between them and people who purchase a Honda Accord or a Chevrolet Aveo?

Average cars:  Honda, Chevy:  Dog lovers

Hot cars:  Jaguar, Porsche:  Dog slayers

Frank just bought a Porsche, now when people walk their dog across his sidewalk, he chases them down and he kicks the helpless animal.

Bob just bought a Honda, now he volunteers at the neighborhood animal shelter.

Can you image how much hatred of dogs must course through the veins of the owners of a Lamborghini or a Ferrari?  These cars are extremely hot cars.  I’d bet that if you ran a nationwide survey of missing dog reports and correlate the results to areas surrounding households in which the owners possess a Ferrari, you will find significant overlapping statistics.

You need more evidence?

I just finished watching the final installment of the Twilight movie series with my family.  In case you live on the moon (Netflix won’t ship DVDs there), this series of movies was about the Cullen family—a family of vampires.  In this story, the vampire named Edward drove a hot silver Volvo S60R and he was a blood sucking consumer of animals, some of which I’m sure were dogs.  Rosalie drove a BMW M3 convertible; a very hot car.  She too enjoyed eating helpless animals.  Carisle’s Mercedes S55 AMG was another hot automobile and once again, she would enjoy a good dog roast.

Bella, prior to her transformation into a vampire, was driving a beat-up red pickup truck.  Not a hot vehicle at all.  She had no desire to drink the blood of dogs.  None what-so-ever.

Oh no!  Was that a movie spoiler?  I’m sorry.  I should have written “Spoiler Alert”.  Obviously, I’m not that sorry since I still have a chance to edit this piece.  Odd.

And speaking of spoilers, you know those “tail fins”, otherwise known as spoilers, that young men place on the edge of their car’s trunk in order to make their car appear slightly faster without any costly changes to the engine.  Yeah, I’ll bet those boys suddenly have a slight, but noticeable urge, to trip dogs down a flight of stairs.  I’ll have to do more research.

(blogging trend goes here:  wrap up your article by asking questions)

Are you now suspicious of people driving hot cars?

What kind of hot car do you drive?

How many dogs have you killed?

Buy my hot book (which statistically has no dog killing correlations)

Voices in Pictures

This blog entry is what would happen if I wrote a picture book.   Pictures are not necessarily my thing–I enjoy words more than photos.  I very rarely include photos in my blog.  So this is me going too far with pictures.  …hopefully still enjoyable for you.

All of the following pictures were created by me.  Please share them at your desire.  This collection of photos is not one of those “share everything that is already floating about the web and that you have already seen on seventeen people’s Facebook pages”.  Perhaps I can make you smile with photo captions.  Let’s try.

ashtree

That was the biggest tree in my yard.  “Was” is the key word here–stupid Ash Tree Bug.   It has since been replaced with a much smaller tree.  I’d invite you over to sit in the shade of my new tree that we put in place of this one, but the shade created only provides shade for one person.  I’ll pencil you in for the summer of 2034.  See you then.

crawpudding

Apparently my mother failed to tell me not to play with my food.  And who would actually raise that thing to their mouth?  It’s looking at you while you’re about to eat its head.  Creepy.

dogpee

My dog has a question for you.

europeansoda

Perhaps my dog’s question was: What happens after you drink a bunch of European Soda?

fruitcracks

How can you not like this fruit?  I’ve never purchased it so I don’t know what it tastes like, but it makes me smile.  And I always take the time to arrange them properly when I pass by them.

happyeggs

Apparently eggs make me smile too.

healthylinving

I thought this picture was so awesome that I included it in my book.  Healthy Living and Candy in the same aisle.  My kind of store…

holybread

Too much time on my hands.  Someone pass the butter, please.

hooterssause

Did you know that you can get wings at Hooters?  I usually just ask for a glass of water and sit behind my sunglasses.

mexican

The same store that sells that “Healthy Candy” also attempts to hide the good mexican food.  Make sure you walk all the way down this aisle.  Don’t settle for the fake mexican food.

pringlesseason

And when exactly does Pringles Season end.  I need to stock up for the off-season.

pubesandhoses

When artistically designing a sign for your small business, don’t make the “T” look like a “P”.  Would you stop in and browse around at Pubes and Hoses?  I kept driving.

slowcookerhooker

Thank you Hamilton Beach for bringing to the public the world’s first set of “Slow Cookers for Hookers”.

speedhumps

Perhaps with the invention of the Slow Cookers for Hookers there will be extra time to slow things down a bit.

thought_graph

This is an accurate representation of how my wife’s brain works.  Although there probably should have been an extra bump in the level drawn in just after she lays down to fall asleep.

woodplug

Naturally occurring electricity without all that pesky lightning.

Buy my book which includes a handful of pictures.

Fish Abuse

I went out to dinner with my wife last night.  We went to this Irish pub across town—nice place.  I got the fish and chips.  She got the battered shrimp and fries.

My fish was quite good and I believe my wife enjoyed her meal as well, but I have to say that I feel bad that the shrimp came from a world of violence.  I’m not sure how you prepare battered shrimp, but I believe it would taste just as good without going through the whole beating that clearly leaves an emotional scar underneath the physical pounding.

My fish was gently placed into the basket above the deep fryer, slowly lowered into the warm bath of oils, gently placed upon the plate to relax, rest, and cuddle up to the over-privileged side of chips.

My wife’s shrimp lived a short painful existence.  The abuse probably started as a youngster.  Abused as a child, the other shrimp wouldn’t let them play any shrimp games.  If only it would have learned to fly and pull a sled!

Its adult life bought a daily verbal assault.  The cook would ridicule it in front of the pampered scampi.  It never once was told just how beautiful it truly was.  I simply wish that all battered shrimp across the entire ocean would recognize that there is a place they can go for help.  Shrimp don’t have to live the battered life. sadshrimp

It was sad to see how the shrimp ended up.  Where my fish were honored to be served up on the same plate with hearty potato wedges, her shrimp were cast aside and left to fend themselves in silence with the strung out normal fries.

Stop the battering of shrimp.  There is a place to go for help.

Buy my books and a portion of the proceeds will go toward my next order of shrimp cocktail.

Spam: A Good Idea–Click!

Why does e-mail spam continue?  Who is clicking on this crap thinking in their head, “Well now that is a bargain for me!” or “This will make my life easier!” or even “Yeah, I really do wish mine was bigger.”

The following is a rundown of only a small portion of the spam that is currently trapped in my spam folder.  It sits there patiently waiting for me to push the “select all” button followed by the “delete permanently” button.  I wish there was a “find the people who put me on this list and hang them from the ceiling fan by their toenails” button.  Which could be followed by the “and then turn it on high” button.

Subsidized Solar Power:  Apparently the government of the United States of America wants me to convert to solar power.  So much so that they are willing to subsidize the entire project—costing me absolutely nothing!  I think this explains the van with dark windows parked at my curb for the last couple of weeks.  Clearly I’m under surveillance.  I can sometimes actually hear them when I get home.  “The buzzard has landed, the juice is flowing, and the sun has not risen.”  I believe this is government spy talk:  I have arrived home, turned on my lights, and not yet installed my 100% absolutely free solar panel package.

Learn a New Language in 10 Days or Enhance Your Career with a Second Language:  In just ten days?  That is awesome.  I’m clicking it.  And in just ten days I should be appointed to the position CEO.  Can you imagine all of the La Benefitios that will be presented to El Meo?  I’m getting started right awayo.

Rich Prince Needs Your Help:  There is a certain rich prince out there in our big world who apparently is attempting to launder his money into my country.  His goal for the money is noble.  He wants to fund an orphanage where years earlier he sent his children to in order to protect them from the evils of his own country.  I can personally help him by providing him my checking account number so that he can deposit millions of dollars in my account.  I have been instructed to then write a check back to his charity and keep whatever amount I see fit to pay for the service I am providing.

I’m in!  And with the money I earn from my provided services I going to install solar panels on my neighbor’s houses too!  And then I’m going to learn his language in a very short period of time so that I can thank him in his native tongue.  Oh rich prince, thank goodness you haven’t hear of Western Union.  I’m here for you.

Meet Lonely Wives: There are apparently a zillion lonely housewives out there desperately seeking the companionship of me.  Yeah, that’s right, me!  You see, their husbands are off traveling the world of business in order to provide a decent income for their household.  Although this leaves these women reasonably comfortable in their lifestyles, it does very little to provide for their personal needs.  The spam e-mail explains that these lonely souls are extremely abundant across the country and with just a click of the mouse, I can be connected to hundreds of them right in my local area!  There is a real website dedicated to “hooking us up”.

How long has this loneliness been going on?  It’s a travesty; although, I think I can fix this!  I’m going to present this to my beautiful wife of almost seventeen years.  Clearly she will understand the plight of these women and together we will visit each and every one of them.  As a team, we will be there for them.  I can’t wait to connect with them over a nice lunch, and just simply be there for them, listen to their problems, perhaps watch their children for the day so they can relax.  I know some of them aren’t as comfortable in their money as they claim.  It’s so obvious to me because some of them couldn’t even afford shirts before they got their picture taken for the web site.  I’ll be sure to donate some clothing to them in order to save them the embarrassment before my wife and I meet them for lunch.

Christian Singles:  How do I get on these spam lists?  There is only so much time in the day.  But, after my wife and I tackle the growing problem of lonely wives, we will begin a journey to meet each one of these Christian singles.  Clearly they can learn a great deal from the experiences of our long-lasting wonderful marriage.

Hook up with my books.