Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Many times when I've writing, I use something from the natural world as a jumping off point--or as an element in my story. Because I don't like being wrong--a particularly girly thing about me--I usually double check my facts, even if I think I know everything I could possibly want to know about a thing. I'm always amazed by how much I don't know. Take barnacles for instance...

I'm writing a story and bring up barnacles. I'm thinking I'm only going to use the clingyness of them, how they cement themselves to something then proceed to cover themselves with limestone secretions, living their lives in one spot until scraped off or eaten by stone crabs. Because that's what I know about them.

But HOLY MOLY! They gots penises that are 8 times and long as they are high! So, in human terms, that's like a 6 foot tall dude needing to lug around a 48 foot long schlong. Even given dips in too cold water or other shriveling type events, that's just johnson overkill.

The article, Barnacles Can Change Penis Size and Shape, was in Nat Geo over a year ago. Evidently, they had some trouble in the lab because "it's hard to get barnacles to extend their penises on demand..." so "the team artificially inflated the barnacles' genitalia with seawater using a custom-made penis pump built out of tubes and hypodermic syringes." This only after copies of PlayBivalve, Nekkid Stripper Oysters and unhampered access to Internet crustacean porn in their little cubicles failed to do the job.

Also, barnacles are hermaphrodites so they technically don't actually need these enormous snausages, being able to impregnate themselves just fine, but "barnacles prefer to mate with other individuals whenever possible." And I think we all can understand that just fine. Right there with you, buddy.

Saturday, April 25, 2009

We Be Ignorant Rubes!!!
(an NBC Affiliate)

I'm forced to watch WBIR because NBC News with Brian Williams is on every night at 6:30 unless WBIR has competitive hog wrassling or something it can pre-empt it with. Yeah, they pre-empt the national new here. I think Brian Williams is the closest thing we have to Peter Jennings and that's why I follow NBC's news.

Anyway, I was really engaged in NBC's series "Kings," which I think is some of the smartest scripting and acting I've seen on the networks in a long, long time. And Ian McShane is a really hot guy for a short man. It hasn't been doing so hot in the ratings because it's a smart show more suited to premium cable. Anyway, WBIR decided to block it and run Law and Order re-runs. Pretty sure there's some boneheaded reasoning for this. This pisses me off because I committed to watching the damn thing and now I'm being denied the opportunity to finish watching it--something that the rest of the NBC viewing public is being allowed.

Luckily, I have the first two discs of Rome. If anyone is recording "Kings," I'd be happy to work out a barter. I can't access this stuff on 26K dialup. Trade ya some soap and chutney?

Yeah, that's right, K-town. Someone in Cocke Freaking County is calling you an unsophisticated bumpkin. So bite me!

Friday, April 24, 2009

I've gotten so much done this week since I decided to stay off Facebook. Computer life is nice again now that I'm not waiting 30 seconds for their bloated crap to load. I think I'm going to limit my Facebook time to once a week or something--at least until I get something better than 26K dialup. Been thinking about doing satellite now the the prices seem to have come down a bit. If I can get rid of my AT & T (AKA: The Great Satan), it might be doable.

I've been tentatively venturing into the yard to do yardwork. You know, every spring for the past five years, I've suffered a pretty bad fall. It just seems to be something that happens. So I've been trying really hard not to fall. One year I tried to not go outside and ended up falling in the house. But I have high hopes for spring 2009. I'll let you know in June if I made it.

I've been really disgusted with people who make censorship a way of life. It's not the people you think. It's the entire reason I've backed out of every group I've ever identified with, wiping my mouth like I'd kissed a sewer. Why do people feel the need to control the thoughts, emotions and speech of others? I just so don't get it. Especially marginalized groups of people, who, more often than not are the most intolerant of all. I'm just too weary of the non-stop whining. If you want something just shut up and fucking take it. That's empowerment.

Friday, April 17, 2009

And it was great! Listened to to last night and enjoyed it very much.

"They Made Us Walk to Eat" is read on the Diet Soap Podcast, aka Charles Lain's Podcast. So, if you always wanted to experience one of my stories but were too lazy to read them--you can download the Diet Soap Podcast from Podmatic or from iTunes. I'm linking to Podmatic because I'm on 26K dialup and just loading my iTunes takes forever and I can't have too many things going at once with it or it shuts my computer down.

Doug reads from his intro to the Sabotage issue of Diet Soap, turning the concept of sabotage (which we usually think of as a tool for the underdog), on its head, pointing out how the practice of sabotage has moved from micro to macro. Everything from our government to our economy engaging in self-sabotage or sabotage by the biggest entities on larger constructs.

"They Made Us Walk to Eat" is my fat camp story and it's very appropriate for this theme.


I'm watching The Tudors and am completely hooked! I wish I was well-off enough to afford premium satellite so I didn't have to wait for shows like that to go to DVD--but I'm almost done with season one. It's a complete rape of history, but I knew that when I saw the costumes which are gorgeous interpretations of the period. Love them, but not truly authentic. Sumptuous, nonetheless. As long as you aren't looking for historical accuracy and can just sink into the story, it's very enjoyable. I love all the little jabs at history and art. Definitely more enjoyable if you know your art and history as these writers obviously did, but are willing to have fun with it.

Thursday, April 16, 2009

The Teabaggers came out yesterday in Cocke County to demonstrate at Newport City Park. I hate that I forgot all about it while I was in town--though obviously it was in the back of my mind when I saw that truck with the truck nuts. Really, I wouldn't normally have gone off on the truck nuts like that, but I now realize it was my brain telling me I forgot something. Like maybe I should drive by the Teabaggers and get some piccies or gawk or something. Snicker. Stuff like that. Payback for the glazed months I spent after 2002 curled in a fetal position, retreating into the fantasy world of West Wing.

And I was framing a mockity-mock incorporating "Pie Hole" and "Teabagging." And The Pie Hole did run at least one article--more I think, though there wasn't anything in today's paper. Curious, I thought, since they seemed really gung-ho about it and all starry-eyed about maybe being Rupert Murdoch's bitch. No really. They love Fox News.

But no, being Cocke County, we had to shame ourselves on a national level--and not just because we didn't realize "teabagging" meant something entirely different in today's vernacular. That's totally not our fault--evidently no one at Fox or the Republican Party caught that one. Just don't suggest they follow it up with a rusty trombone parade.

No, we made freaking Daily Kos with this one. Could we just keep our heads down for a few years? Please?

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Truck Nuts.

Okay. So, I'm in Walmart today after picking up the lawnmower and having a big ole pity party and a good cry at my therapist's. I leave with my groceries and as I'm walking off to my jeep, I spy a big truck. It has truck nuts. Big black ones. Truck scrotum. Srsly.

WTF is up with truck nuts, anyway? I mean, do they have some sort of purpose? Do they keep your trailer hitch from jouncing off? 'Cause if they do, then I might get some balls for the jeep--though I'd prolly see if they had jeep ovaries. Pink ones. Do truck nuts do anything? Anything, at all? Other than say, "My truck has balls and I have one of those mounted, singing fish hanging in a place of pride back home at the double-wide?"

This is my problem with the implied virile message of truck nuts. They are absurdly small if one was to take the anthropomorphic metaphor to it's ultimate conclusion. I mean, them's some tiny testicles to be dangling from the back of a Dodge Ram. And since they are swinging from the trailer hitch---the implication is the trailer hitch has something to do with it. And the trailer hitch is not the biggest part of the truck--if you get my drift. Maybe not the best thing to be advertising or drawing attention to, if you know what I mean. And they are sort of homoerotic in a Bubbalicious sort of way. I'm sure Scott would totally get what I mean, since he likes a bit of rough.

For one mad moment, there in the crowded Walmart parking lot--I sort of wanted to go over and give them a little squeeze. Just to see what everyone's reaction would be. If anyone would call me on it.

Tuesday, April 07, 2009

Woke up this morning to stark white snow coating tiny green leaves. House wrens puffed up in outrage on the porch, ruffled featherage. It started to snow yesterday while it was still warm. I had gone out to check the mail and caught a few chunks on my shirtfront. The problem with being bosomy is that everything lands on your shirtfront. It's like you carry around your own crumb receiver. And if you are in the slightest bit messy (and like most creative types, I take messy very seriously, indeed), then there isn't enough coinage in the world to cover your drycleaning. So I wear lots of black, washable garments. But this was just snow, so no harm, no foul. Luckily, it wasn't precipitating gravy.

It's still snowing.

I have two stories out in the current issue of The Birmingham Arts Journal. It's always very gratifying for me when a Southern publication accepts my work. It is my thang, after all. The two stories are: "A Pretty Little House" and "The Best Edible Wax Horse Teeth Ever."

"A Pretty Little House" is an all dialogue, experimental piece that takes place in a laundromat.

"The Best Edible Wax Horse Teeth Ever" is a period piece set in the late 1960's in Bluffton, S.C. Most people will recognize The Mercantile.

You can download a full copy of The Birmingham Arts Journal in .pdf HERE. Or, even better--get a subscription!

Monday, April 06, 2009


Everyone was so sweet to me while I was being fragile. I guess I still am, but the ice pick headaches I've been having have made me cranky---and that's always a good antidote for fragility. It's hard to be fragile when you want to kill something so very badly. I've been plagued by real-time stupid people recently and that does tend to make one cranky.

I see stupid people. Way more than I would like to.

Also, there appears to be a mildew ghost in my home. My wonderful neighbor who built my house is going to see if he can find it to exorcise it. It's very odd--there's a column of air in the middle of my kitchen--not attached to anything in particular--that smells of mildew. I've been sniffing everything trying to find the source. It reminds me of the cold spots ghosts hunters claim they can feel. But mine is smelly, too.

Hughes net sent me a free installation card. Price has come down on those so I'm seriously considering it. But a 2 year commitment is sort of silly. They are going to have to do away with that before most people will consider it.

But I've got several stories out right now. Dogmatika took "Applewhite." It went live on April 1st. I just found it yesterday--I have to keep an eye on these things and sometimes I forget what I have coming out.

In other news, they are going to read "They Made Us Walk to Eat" from Diet Soap #3 on a podcast. I'll let you know where when I find out. I got the copy of the magazine and it's really a beautiful thing. They even found a Shoney's Big Boy graphic for my story.