There Won't Be a Next Time

VERSE 1

Call me on the phone with tears in your eyes

All because you never got to say goodbye

It’s two in the morning and I’ve popped my pills

I have this conversation against my will

You’ve searched every place for just one answer

Except for the mirror, your one true romancer

It’s all your fault, ‘cause everything’s your fault

Rip the cord out of the wall to end these phone calls

 

CHORUS

I already know you won’t do it next time

Why? Because there won’t be a next time!

You’re like everyone else who blew their chances

Flushed away your own friendships and romances

 

VERSE 2

I can only imagine what you’re like in real life

Either a fair-weather friend or a yandere wife

Would you throw knives at me at Thanksgiving dinner?

Debate me at Christmas until you’re the winner?

Leave me behind on a faraway vacation?

So many dark scenarios in my imagination

Anxiety gives me the gift that keeps giving

A lifetime with you isn’t one that’s worth living

 

CHORUS

I already know you won’t do it next time

Why? Because there won’t be a next time!

You’re like everyone else who blew their chances

Flushed away your own friendships and romances

 

BRIDGE

Life would be easier if you just wore a shirt

That says, “I’m evil and I’m lower than dirt”

That way I wouldn’t spend time chasing your skirt

My brain would stay sane, your heart would never hurt

 

VERSE 3

And now it’s all over, so what should I do?

Spend more time creating, less thinking of you

I’ve got a wish list that’s about a mile long

Time to show the world what it means to be strong

But first a little shiver underneath my blanket

Wondering all day if I’m even going to make it

I dreamed of making money with my artistic skills

Climb the corporate mountain, but the avalanche kills

 

EXTENDED CHORUS

I already know you won’t do it next time

Why? Because there won’t be a next time!

You’re like everyone else who blew their chances

Flushed away your own friendships and romances

You can say you’re sorry until your throat goes raw

You can scream until you unhinge your own jaw

You can hang onto my leg like a little bitty toddler

Go and get a life, unlike an aborted daughter

Martyr for a Lost Cause

Buying in with no return on investment

Selling out for a footnote mention

Martyr for a lost cause, get crucified

But at least you fought with unrivaled pride

Thrown under the bus like a liability

Getting back in good graces is an impossibility

Back of the line at the bottom of the gutter

Your masters call you shit and they didn’t even stutter

 

One of the good ones? Don’t make me laugh

Failed creative who never signed an autograph

Except on a document listing pocket items

Box that shit away, now you’re in for cage violence

Thank you for your service, but you’re no longer needed

Couldn’t work within the system, let alone beat it

You think you’re respected? They joke about discrimination

You’re not a model citizen, you’re the scourge of the nation

 

No more invitations to Thanksgiving dinners

All because you wanted fascism to be the true winner

No more presents to unwrap around the Christmas tree

‘Cause you sold out your whole family with hypocrisy

No more vacations to the land of rollercoasters

Your brothers would rather stick their dicks in a toaster

No wedding rings to buy, no children to bear

‘Cause you see tragedy and you don’t even care

 

Martyrdom for nothing didn’t get you anywhere

You’ve lost your right to tell me it’s unfair

You’ve lost your right to claim victimhood

You did it to yourself, now burn in hell for good!

Dear Aunt Ruth

Dear Aunt Ruth,

Thank you so much for the $20 check you sent me for Christmas. I haven’t decided what I’ll spend it on yet, but I guarantee it’ll go to a good place. That’s one New Year’s resolution that’s impossible for me to break. I’m well on my way to recovering from the flu I picked up earlier this month, so that means I’ll actually be able to go out and have a good time for a change. Or maybe I can spend it online and enjoy my snuggle time with my kitty daughter Piper. Since you’re always asking about the weather, it’s just rainy enough here in Washington State that I’ll have lots of opportunities to hunker down with one of my creative outlets. Writing you this letter is one of them.

Speaking of creative outlets, the year 2022 was a very slow one for me in terms of productivity. I can’t promise 2023 will be any different, but for the time being, I’ve got plenty to keep me busy on the days when I have even a modicum of energy. I only have two more character sheets to create before I’m ready to rewrite and edit Beautiful Monster for the fourth time. The two characters in question are the Savage twins: Christian and Kody (in case their redneck roots were ever in doubt). They’re both employees of the far-right mercenary group Shadow Asylum and they wouldn’t be out of place at the Crawford County Fare (which is still not progressive enough for my tastes as Cousin Liesl can attest to). They may be minor role characters, but they still deserve to have their back-stories fleshed out so that they won’t come across as cardboard cutouts to whoever’s reading about them. That’s the ultimate goal of my character sheets and world-building: to actually figure out what the hell I’m doing instead of writing from the seat of my pants. Wish me luck!

Reading has also been a slowly, but surely endeavor of mine, so much so that I consider it to be part of my creative work since it’s training me how to write. I’m currently 98 pages into Chicken Soup for the Pet Lover’s Soul, which is every bit as sweet and cuddly as one could expect from a book about animals. There’s a story about transporting an old doggy named Snoopy back to her family in Ohio via the “puppy express”. There’s a story about a three-legged cheetah inspiring a physically disabled former baseball player that there’s more to life than sulking around. There’s a story about giving a homeless man and his doggies some food to make it through another night on the streets. I’m only a quarter of the way through the book and already I’ve got aww’s to last me for a lifetime. But just like with most media published in the 1990’s, there are a few stories that haven’t aged very well, particularly ones about pet stores, selling horses to the circus, and a dog “purposefully” eating rat poison so that Gene Wilder will finally marry the dog’s owner. I still plan on reading through until the end to get my fill of otherwise lovable moments. I need those lovey-dovey moments now more than ever in the 2020’s.

And of course, I can’t stay barricaded in Piper’s Queendom forever, because later in March, I’m going to a Soulfly concert with James. It’ll be my fifth time seeing them and James’s second time. I’ve been listening to them since 2006 and I have all twelve of their albums. If they make a thirteenth, fourteenth, or fifteenth album, I’ll buy those too. Heavy metal has always been my go-to music whenever I need to get hyped up. I’ll have to stay outside the concert’s mosh pit, however, since those are notoriously rough during Soulfly shows. The event will take place at El Corazon, a nightclub in Seattle that has hosted Soulfly before as well as other bands like Hellyeah, Pop Evil, and Starset. Four bands that have very little in common and they’ve all passed through El Corazon’s doors. What will be my next show after this one? I don’t know yet, but hopefully it’ll be just as fun as seeing Soulfly for a fifth time. Rock concerts are therapy for me. I’ve also referred to them as holy pilgrimages, with the venue being the metaphorical temple. Seems accurate.

I’d love to tell you more about my 2023, but one novel is enough. I’ve also got a series of multi-chapter short stories to write, some movies to watch and review, Lego sets to build, characters to draw, I’ve got a lot on my plate and I’m glad that I do. Life would be pretty dull if all I did was work on one thing through it all. The best characters in fiction are the ones that have multiple interests, hobbies, and dreams instead of just one. The same could be said for real life people as well. We are all three-dimensional characters in this life with our own back-stories and original thoughts. Hopefully, this novel will have a happy ending for all of us.

Love,

Garrison

Whoppers

You like to jerk it off to The Human Centipede

Shake your ass to Green Day’s “Know Your Enemy”

Give lap dances at your local retirement home

Knickknack, paddywack, eat your doggie’s bone

What’s the matter? You don’t like being defamed?

Don’t like shouldering someone else’s blame?

I heard that before, in fact, a million times over

Welcome to the world and its New World Odor

For every double whopper you’ve got about me

I’ve got a thousand more on you, bless creativity

You burglarize houses with a Darth Vader mask

“Use the force” and those who can’t even ask

But your light saber is the size of a toothpick

When it’s time to get it on, you’re fucking useless

You made a donation to the Humane Society

But it was criminal restitution for being rapey

You had to sell your collection of celebrity condoms

To make up for the debt and cut your own losses

Let’s upgrade that double whopper to a size triple

You get your cereal’s milk from your grandma’s nipple

Let’s go quadruple on your heart attack whopper

Or is this where you finally call the crime stoppers?

I wish I had that option when you lied about me

Freedom of speech has never been completely free

Maybe I’ll get you a ball gag for Christmas this year

Stick it in your mouth until the truth is loud and clear

I’ll get you some handcuffs for a stocking stuffer

No access to your keyboard, you’re grounded by mother

I know this all sounds a little creepy and kinky

But it keeps your bullshit from getting too stinky

How the Grinch Stole Christmas

MOVIE TITLE: How the Grinch Stole Christmas

DIRECTOR: Ron Howard

YEAR: 2000

GENRE: Holiday Fantasy

RATING: PG for comic mischief and bullying

GRADE: Pass

There’s a reason why people who hate Christmas in real life are referred to as Grinches. They’re also called Scrooges and Bah-Humbugs, but being called a Grinch is a special kind of dishonor. Not only do you not want to enjoy the Christmas spirit yourself, but you’ll do anything humanly possible to make it miserable for everybody else, whether it’s playing cruel pranks or stealing presents. That’s the story Dr. Seuss got us all used to. But in this movie, we don’t see evil for the sake of evil. Sure, the Grinch was bullied as a kid and that’s what made him hate Christmas. Adding a traumatic back story doesn’t always equal goodwill, but this time it does. A green hairy monster loved by nobody and shunned by the wicked. If we’ve learned anything from The Joker in 2019, it’s not to mess with the disenfranchised. You will feel for the Grinch. You will cheer for him. And when he causes mayhem, you’ll laugh your head off.

A lot of this sympathy for the Grinch was helped magnificently by Jim Carrey’s performance as the title character. He’s not just an angry green monster. He’s eccentric. He’s comedic. He’s delightfully villainous. Whether it’s something as simple as the way he walks, eats, and dances or his witty dialogue that rolls off the tongue naturally, Jim Carrey has you by the throat the instant you start watching the movie. If Ace Ventura, The Mask, and The Riddler were injected into The Grinch’s rotten, yet damaged soul, that’s how Jim Carrey’s version of this character would be. But he’s not just comic relief. He’s nuanced to the point where everything he says holds water. This movie is often categorized as a drama-comedy and that combination of genres embodies Jim Carrey’s character perfectly. I’m not sure if he won an Oscar for his performance, but it’d be a crime not to give him one. I know, I know, it seems laughable to do so, but is it really?

You know who else had a convincing performance in this movie? Taylor Momsen, who portrayed little Cindy Lou Who, the only character in the Who village with enough commonsense to see Christmas for what it really is: capitalism in disguise. She knows full well that Christmas should prioritize family love and friendship over materialism, which is why she nominates The Grinch to be the Cheer Meister, because if anybody needs love, it’s him. Taylor Momsen portrayed her character as a sweet, bubbly, optimistic child who wouldn’t hurt a fly. That makes her message of family love more believable than the bombastic Mayor’s “buy, buy, buy” rhetoric. Sure, she’s not taken seriously at first because she’s a child and there’s ageism running rampant. But don’t worry, because Taylor Momsen would eventually grow up to become the lead singer of The Pretty Reckless. Not bad for a little one!

Movie reboots get a bad rap for being worse than their source material, but that’s not the case with How the Grinch Stole Christmas. In fact, I’d say it surpasses the original cartoon from the 1960’s. The Grinch has a more colorful personality, Cindy Lou Who is as sweet as a bug’s ear, and everybody else is living in those two lead characters’ world. Step aside, Mayor; you’re the real Grinch around here. A passing grade will go to this holiday classic. Wow. I can’t believe I’m calling a movie made in 2000 a classic. I’m getting old! Then again, if growing old was a bad thing, there’d be no Pretty Reckless and boy, do I need my rock and roll!

Autumn Energy

VERSE 1

Caffeine for Halloween! Trick or fucking treat

Taurine and Baby Ruth taste so fucking sweet

Stay up all night giving everyone a big scare

Too many screams and tears? I don’t even care

Put on my mask and fill your pants full of crap

Urine and semen soaking up your entire lap

Blood-soaked neighborhood, I feel so good

Broke the zipper on my jumpsuit with oak wood

VERSE 2

Living for Thanksgiving! My sanity is slipping

Roasted turkey is for chewing and ripping

Face full of brown gravy and mashed potatoes

Wear it like a mask, I’m so fucking unstable

I’ll sleep when I’m dead from a heart attack

And my intestines slide out of my ass crack

What a way to go until the next November

My psychotic smile is all you’ll remember

VERSE 3

Sickness for Christmas! Don’t be so listless

I’ve got a naughty list for all of you bitches

Wrap up everything in sparkling paper

From the severed head to the culprit saber

October and December are one in the same

Covered in blood, sweat, and dirty shame

Merry Christmas to all and to all a goodnight

We’re gathered here today to get it right

BRIDGE

New Years Day is on its merry way

Broken resolutions are the price you pay

Valentine’s gives you a reason to whine

About the lost love and lack of sunshine

St. Patrick’s is just a reason to get drunk

Vomit on yourself like the spray of a skunk

Fourth of July is nothing but a damn lie

Annoying fireworks blasting in the sky

VERSE 4

Why wait until the fall to enjoy it all?

If anyone wants to argue, let them brawl

Take them out with a chainsaw slash

Leave them on the curb with the trash

Or you can carve them like a turkey

Chew them up until your chest’s hurting

Wrap them like a gift for the undertaker

See you next autumn, you dip shit haters!

The Land of Milk and Medication

VERSE 1

Take me by the hand to dreamland

Tell me a story of fantastic glory

Everything is ours for twelve hours

The recesses of my mind are all mine

Give me a reason to greet the season

Give me a tale I can write without fail

I do it for a living, it’s all I am giving

Buy from the hovel of paperback novels

CHORUS

The land of milk and medication

Is where I do my best meditation

From reality I take a vacation

To a brand new mystical destination

VERSE 2

Milk and honey for my cinnamon bunny

Milk and Xanax for my creative annex

Milk and cereal for the morning ethereal

Milk and fudge to give my face a smudge

Every day is Christmas, night is Halloween

Thanksgiving is somewhere in between

No Valentines for the girl I shall pine

No firecrackers from patriotic attackers

CHORUS

The land of milk and medication

Is where I do my best meditation

From reality I take a vacation

To a brand new mystical destination

BRIDGE

When the sun is kissing, something is missing

Is anybody watching? Is anybody listening?

Where will I get today’s creative fuel?

Must keep the mind sharp, it’s my only tool

EXTENDED CHORUS

The land of milk and medication

Is where I do my best meditation

From reality I take a vacation

To a brand new mystical destination

A world of wonder and musical thunder

Realm of magic born from something tragic

Imagination is my favorite medication

Milk and pills still give me the chills

Favorite Book Memories

***BEFORE I BEGIN***

I hope everybody had a wonderful Christmas this year, filled with family togetherness and of course, plenty of sweet ass presents (can’t forget those, hehe!). One of the things I got this year is shower gel that looks like a blood bag. I wonder what I’ll look like after I scrub myself with it. I’ll probably look like I just came back from a violent mosh pit. Oh dear. Hehe!

***FAVORITE BOOK MEMORIES***

Of course, the key to celebrating a holiday successfully is gratefulness for everything and everyone you have. And thus we have the topic for today’s blog, my five favorite book memories. This was originally done in a You Tube video by fellow author Jenna Moreci and I figured it was a good idea for me to do a list myself. Five doesn’t have to be the definitive number, but it’s one that works for both me and Jenna Moreci. If any of you, my lovely readers, want to do this, you’re more than welcome to. I’m actually curious to see what you guys put down as your favorite book memories. This can be anything from reading a book to writing one to buying one to…anything, really. Without flapping my gums any further, here are my top five in no particular order:

1. Reading “The Cleaner” by Brett Battles and becoming a full-time reader because of it. Stephen King said it best when he claimed if you don’t have the time to read, you don’t have the time nor the skills to write. I didn’t start taking this advice seriously until mid-2009 when I only had one more college class to take before I graduated. I certainly wouldn’t have become a born-again reader with the novels and memoirs my teachers had me read in college. While some of them were good and therefore worth rereading, most of them bored me to tears and made me regret taking those classes. I know college is supposed to be more about education than entertainment, but come on, seriously? When I read Brett Battles’ spy novel “The Cleaner”, I learned how much fun reading really can be. It was a fast paced book that spared me from the feeling of dragging my eyes across concrete. And thus began a long legacy of awesome reading and hopefully awesome writing on my part to go with it. I say hopefully with a lot of emphasis.
2. Joining the WSS. I know this sounds like I’m sucking up, but trust me, it isn’t. Sucking up implies that you don’t mean what you say. When I say that joining the WSS was one of the five best book-related things to happen to me, I say it with every fiber of my being. This Good Reads group holds weekly short story and poetry contests with no special prizes, just a friendly victory. Even more important than getting a victory is getting helpful advice from your peers, who in this case are empathetic and wise when it comes to their critiques. They taught me so much over the years and motivated me to turn the first installment of American Darkness into something that wasn’t cow shit. I’m still a zealous member of the WSS today and will be until the end of forever.
3. Befriending Marie Krepps. Just like the WSS, Marie, my beautiful beta reader and critique partner, has shown me the light when it comes to pumping out readable works of art. Her own published books and short stories are always delightful to read, so she knows what she’s talking about. She has a wicked sense of humor when she critiques my work, thus making the process as painless as possible. Unfortunately, she currently has a lot going on in her life that keeps her from doing what she wants to do, but even so, I’m grateful for every piece of advice and every review she’s given me over the years. I hope she can get things sorted out soon, because there are times when I miss having my Babe-a-Licious Mondo around. I call her that because of the Bubblicious Mondo chewing gum commercials of the mid-1990’s. She loves it. Hehe!
4. Reading “The Perks of Being a Wallflower” by Stephen Chbosky. Never before has a book ripped my heart to shreds and glued it back together again like this simply-written piece of young adult literature. A la Charlie, I know what it’s like to sit on the sidelines and love my favorite women from afar. We’re both introverts who don’t want to screw things up by putting ourselves out there. We both need our Sams and Patricks to bring us out into the light. While Charlie got to have the social experiences he wanted, I remain in the darkness. I am both frustrated and heartbroken when I see things through the eyes of Charlie. Thanks, Stephen Chbosky, for bringing me closer to tears than I’ve ever been.
5. Writing the Poison Tongue Tales story “Sitka the Nose Biter”. On the surface, this seems like just another fantasy story lost in the shuffle of much bigger projects. But Sitka the Nose Biter has sentimental value to me. The main character, Sitka, is a real life cat I adopted back in 2013. Her gray puffy fur and diva-like face reminded me of a witch or a cookie monster. Apparently, the people at Cat of the Day dot com had the same cute opinion of her and wanted to feature her on the homepage of their site. Because of Sitka’s celebrity status, an old WSS friend named Nicky encouraged me to write a children’s short story based on the little sweetie pie. And thus began the rolling snowball of stories based on pets I have and Cat/Dog of the Day nominations for those same animals. Another sentimental part of this story is that it was written two weeks after I wrote a short story called “Tainted Love” that angered a lot of my readers for being sexist. I felt extreme sadness over the course of those two weeks, but perked right up when everyone ooed and ahed over my lovable Sitka girl.

So there you have it, ladies and gentlemen: my five favorite book memories over the course of my career, which actually began in 2009 since that’s when I started taking reading seriously. All of the movie scripts and videogame synopses I wrote before that don’t count since I was flying blind the entire time. Plus, looking back at those old pieces of writing, I’m secretly proud of how far I’ve come since then. As a bookmark I had in fourth grade once told me, “Readers are leaders!” It’s a cheesy slogan that my dad beat to death on a regular basis, but it’s no less true. Reading is an educational and imagination-provoking experience that everybody should have. The key is finding what you like and not being discouraged by what bores you. We’ve got ears, say cheers!

***AMERICAN DARKNESS 3***

And now that we’re on the topic of old writing, here’s a synopsis I wrote back in 2013, which is painfully obvious based on how fucking short it really is. It’s for a story called “Don’t Tell Me Who to Love” and it goes like this:

CHARACTERS:

1.      Rich Lucas, College President

2.      Keith Hamlet, Math Professor

3.      Vikki Peters, Keith’s Student Affair

PROMPT CONFORMITY: To be announced.

SYNOPSIS: Rich calls Keith into his office for a possible termination due to the latter’s affair with Vikki. Keith gives his boss false answer after false answer until he can’t stand it anymore and tells him, “Don’t tell me who to love!”

***DARK FANTASY WARRIORS***

Because my current list of truly unique American Darkness 3 characters is depleting fast, I’ve added nearly the entire roster of what will be called Poison Tongue Tales 3 to the list. While the next character won’t be from that series, she will be from a novel I’ve been hesitant to write due to its mature content rating and possible offensiveness. She’s Tina Ryan, a sultry guitarist from Puberty X Piracy. Wish me luck!

***DOMESTIC DIALOGUE OF THE DAY***

REINA: Chew with your mouth closed!

ME: I’m an American! I can eat however I want! I’m more American than Hulk Hogan!

REINA: Mouth closed!

ME: You’re infringing on my American rights!

REINA: You’re infringing on my ears!

"Winter Wishes of the Heart" by Ashley Uzzell

BOOK TITLE: Winter Wishes of the Heart

AUTHOR: Ashley Uzzell

YEAR: 2017

GENRE: Fictional Short Stories

SUBGENRE: Winter Love

GRADE: Pass

If you’re looking for four short stories that will warm your insides like a cup of hot chocolate, you’ve found the right book. They’re short and sweet, emphasis on sweet. Whether it’s Christmas, New Years, or Valentine’s Day, you’ll always have the wonderful writing of Ashley Uzzell by your side. Grab a fuzzy kitty, wrap yourself in a blanket, and light the fireplace: you’re in for a nice cozy evening.

Of all four stories, my personal favorite has to be Round Table Chant. This one’s about an anxiety patient named Herbie who feels obligated to go to a Christmas party despite the triggers of being around strange people. Mental illnesses are a favorite topic of mine to read about, especially in stories where the sufferer conquers his demons in the end. We need more lovable characters like Herbie in today’s books. Representation matters. It matters a lot. Mentally ill people shouldn’t be ashamed of who they are or the demons that try to hold them down. If anybody’s writing can put this group of people at ease and make them feel powerful, it’s Ashley Uzzell’s. While I won’t give away the ending, rest assured that this story will warm your heart like a bowl of clam chowder. I’d even dare say Round Table Chant deserves its own novel.

That’s not to devalue the other three stories, because they too are just as cute and cuddly to read about. If you want shy guy romance, read David’s Gift. If you want body positivity, try Emily’s Valentine. If you want a brotherly love, get started on What We Built. There’s something for everybody in this collection of short stories. If you don’t personally relate to one thing, you’ll relate to the next. Winter holidays are inclusive of everybody, just like Ashley Uzzell herself. It matters not if you’re rich or poor, young or old, happy or sad: you’ve got a place in her audience if you want to come in from the cold.

Ashley Uzzell knocks it out of the park yet again. Then again, she kind of has a reputation for doing just that. In all my years of reading her books (under both of her aliases), I haven’t come across one that disappointed me yet, nor do I expect to. She’s the go-to author of our generation. She makes independent authors proud to be who they are by virtue of her achievements. If she can kick butt on such a consistent basis, what does that mean for other aspiring writers who need hope in this world? A passing grade for her wonderful winter tales!

Lady and the Tramp

MOVIE TITLE: Lady and the Tramp

DIRECTORS: Hamilton Luske, Wilfred Jackson, and Clyde Geronimi

YEAR: 1955

GENRE: Children’s Animation

RATING: G

GRADE: Extra Credit

Christmas has arrived in a quaint middle class town and Jim Dear gives his wife Darling a Cocker Spaniel puppy named Lady as a gift. Lady forms friendships with the other neighborhood dogs and needs them the most when Jim Dear and Darling ignore her during Darling’s pregnancy. Among the neighborhood dogs is a homeless drifter named Tramp, who shows Lady how to have a good time and live adventurously. With devious Siamese cats, authoritative dog catchers, and a nasty Aunt Sarah as her antagonists, Lady gladly goes on romantic getaways with Tramp, but also feels a sense of duty to protect Jim Dear and Darling’s newborn son. Will Lady ever find the acceptance she needs?

I’m not going to lie: I came close to crying several times during this movie. That’s right: a grown man almost cried to a Disney movie. Sue me. Jim Dear and Darling’s cold behavior towards Lady in the beginning is one of the catalysts for sure. The choir of locked up doggies at the pound singing and howling their hearts out reminded me of what my elderly dog Maggie does when she gets lonely and confused. Aunt Sarah blaming Lady for a mess her stupid Siamese cats made got my blood boiling, especially when Sarah decides to put a muzzle on Lady shortly thereafter. Any further divulging of information will result in spoilers, but I will say that listening to Lady crying alone in her doghouse was nearly the breaking point for me and the floodgates protecting my eyeballs. Damn you, Disney. Damn you!

Such a tear-jerking reaction can only come from an audience who cares deeply about the characters the awful things are happening to. Unless you have a heart of stone, you damn well should care about the neighborhood puppies. They’re cute, they’re bouncy, they’re friendly and lovable, and they’re worthy of getting infinite belly rubs and an endless supply of puppy burgers from McDonald’s. Just picture how happy one of these dogs would be if you took him to McDonald’s for a plain McDouble. Actually, you don’t have to picture it for long, because there’s always that infamous scene where Lady and Tramp eat a plate of spaghetti together. The fact that Tony the Italian restaurant owner cares enough about dogs to feed them his finest cuisine is heartwarming to me. Aunt Sarah should be taking notes. Puppy-duppies want delicious food, not muzzles.

If you’re an animal lover like I am, don’t pass up an opportunity to watch this Disney classic. If nothing else, it’ll make you appreciate your pets more. If they’re feeling lonely or confused, give them pettings and love. Treat them to a nice cuisine every once and a while. Snuggle with them. Let them sleep on your bed and curl up by your pillow. Animals don’t have a long lifespan, so it’s important that we make every moment with them count. A happy animal means a happy owner and a happy owner will feel the dams breaking when he buys a copy of Lady and the Tramp. An extra credit grade will go to this super sweet classic!

I Want Presents

Dr. Kate Spencer peered through the peephole of Glenn Robertson’s padded cell with pity and sympathy. He just sat there cross-legged with thinning brown hair, a gray T-shirt, and blue pajama pants, repeating the same line over and over again: “I want presents.” Dr. Spencer thought about how bureaucratic her mental hospital had become: sedate, lock up, repeat. No cures, no real treatments, just keeping these poor people under lock and key. A solitary tear smeared Kate’s makeup as she thought about Glenn sitting there with that goofy faraway look in his eyes. All of those drugs and all of those treatments, what for?

The head doctor knew in her heart that there had to be another way to get through to her patients. There had to be more to this hospital than just the business aspect of it. Why did everything have to be for profit? Wasn’t there just one instance where human dignity trumped the almighty dollar bill? Kate knew she was risking her career by trying this new approach, but seeing all of these depressed patients weighed too heavily on her conscience and she couldn’t take any more of it. She wiped the tear from her eye and told the two orderlies that they could leave. They nodded and did so.

Dr. Spencer took a deep breath and steadied herself before entering Glenn’s cell with no protection from the nurses and orderlies. The mental patient didn’t take his mile-long gaze off of the opposite wall. He just sat there like a dope long after Kate closed the cell door. She said in a motherly voice, “Hello? Hello? Is there anybody in there?”

It took a while, but Glenn turned to meet Kate’s eyes. He had a little bit of drool running down his chin as he said, “I want presents.”

“Yes, we all know you want presents, Mr. Robertson,” said Dr. Spencer. She sat next to Glenn in the same cross-legged position as her patient and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. He blushed and looked down at his lap. “Guess what day it is?”

“I want presents.”

“That’s right, Glenn: it’s that time of year alright. It’s Christmas Eve! I know Christmas is your favorite holiday. But before I reveal my big surprise to you, you and I need to talk about something. It’s about your health,” said Kate.

“I want presents.”

“I know you do,” said Kate as she fluffed Glenn’s horseshoe hair. “But you need to listen to me for a few minutes. I can’t help you otherwise. Glenn, do you have any idea how much time has passed since you first came here?”

The patient shrugged his shoulders and allowed a spot of drool to splash his pajama pants. Kate’s answer was, “Fifteen years. You’ve been living in this hospital for fifteen long years. You were admitted here at the tender age of twenty-five when your parents died in a plane crash. You had a traumatic breakdown. You couldn’t find work. You couldn’t find anybody to take care of you. So fifteen years later, here you are. It doesn’t seem that long ago, but that’s only because we’ve kept you sedated and drugged throughout most of your stay. I know it’s wrong, trust me, I do. My hands were tied, even as the head doctor of this facility.”

Glenn tucked his head and sobbed softly while sniffing mucus up his nose. “I want presents! I want presents!”

“You see, that’s the thing,” said Kate while patting Glenn on the back. “Presents are not going to bring your parents back. They’re not going to help you find a place to live or a job to work at. But what they can do is bring you back to that sense of nostalgia you once had. You loved Christmas. Your face lit up like a Christmas tree when you opened those presents. If I bring you back to that special moment, you have to promise that you’ll tell me everything. I want to hear more about your life than the fact that you want presents. Okay, big guy?”

“I want presents.”

“That’s the spirit,” said Dr. Spencer before planting a playful kiss on the top of his head. “Now, here’s what we’re going to do. Your cell has a PA system as you already know, which is what we use to wake you up and give you dinner or medicine. Well, today on Christmas Eve, your sound system is going to be used for something else entirely. Consider this your early Christmas present. You want presents? Here you go.”

Kate pulled a remote out of her lab coat pocket and aimed it at the speaker box in the high corner of the cell. One press of the button later and the sounds of rhythmic heart beats surrounded the cell. Thump-thump…thump-thump…thump-thump. Glenn’s stupefied trance turned into a silly grin with drool running down his T-shirt.

The heart beats were accompanied by a glockenspiel recording of the Christmas classic “Silent Night”. Glenn’s smile grew wider and he crouched further in his sitting position. He nodded off for a few seconds and then jerked back to reality. He nodded off again and woke back up. This cycle repeated itself until the song was over, in which case he fell backwards and made snow angels when Dr. Spencer stood up to give him room.

“I want presents…I want pres…I wan pre…I wa…pre….I…I…” His nirvana ended in a flood of tears when he realized the moment was temporary.

Dr. Spencer knelt down and held his hand in hers while petting his arm hair with her other hand. “I’m sorry, Glenn. I really thought this would have helped you. I didn’t know it would bring you so much pain. I’m sorry. I really am.” She slowly stood back up and hung her head dejectedly as she trudged toward the cell door.

“I don’t want to be here anymore. I want to go home!” sobbed Glenn. His snow angel motions were quickening and began to resemble autistic arm flapping instead.

Dr. Spencer gave him a wide-eyed look of shock as she heard the first real words he said other than “I want presents”. Yes, Glenn was still sobbing like the small child he believed himself to be, but this was the only real progress that no bureaucratic drugging procedure could have ever made. She knelt beside him again and rubbed his belly like a rolled over puppy-duppy.

“Listen to me, Glenn,” she said in a soothing voice. “We can’t let you out on the streets just yet. You can’t go back home. Another family is already living there. Your family has been so far behind on the payments that the bank had no choice but to foreclose on them. If I let you out now, where will you go? Who will you turn to now that you have no family remaining?”

Glenn relaxed his body, smiled at Dr. Spencer, and said, “I’ll turn to you!”

Tears welled up in Dr. Spencer’s eyes as she smiled at her patient. She rubbed them away with her lab coat sleeve, placed her hand on her chest lovingly, and said, “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard from my patients. You really mean that, don’t you? You’re not mad at me for all of these years I’ve kept you here?”

Glenn’s smile faded and the tears returned. “You’re the closest thing to a mother I have, Dr. Spencer. I love you.”

Both doctor and patient’s eyes became excessively wet at the outpours of emotion. It took fifteen years to get through to Glenn Robertson. Fifteen years of sedatives. Fifteen years of untested drugs. Fifteen years of being locked up for simply being sad. In this moment, they were free. Glenn wasn’t out on the streets just yet, but he was there in spirit. Dr. Kate Spencer wasn’t out from behind her desk, but her chains were loosening with every tear and every loving gesture. The doctor and patient hugged each other and sobbed into their shoulders.

They didn’t want to let go, but a boisterous male voice from the now opened cell door shouted, “This is bullshit!” Kate and Glenn looked up to see two orderlies with an electric lance in one hand and a bottle of pills in the other. One orderly bellowed, “Dr. Spencer, you know there’s a rule against this kind of treatment! Mr. Robertson is being treated for a serious condition and you’re just…”

“I’m just what?!” roared Kate while standing back up and acting as a border between the orderlies and Glenn. “Is it so crazy and insane to believe that people’s lives matter more than procedure? Isn’t there more to life than making billions of fucking dollars? You two don’t give a shit about these patients! You give a shit about cashing your paycheck and nothing more! If you want to get to this poor innocent boy behind me, you know exactly who you have to go through!”

The orderlies’ faces changed from authoritative rage to solemn contemplation. Everyone in this standoff was breathing heavily and anticipating the next move. “Okay, Dr. Spencer. I see exactly how it is. You’re absolutely right,” said one of the orderlies. “I do have to go through you!” In one swift motion, both orderlies zapped Dr. Spencer with their taser lances, sending her convulsing to the floor with blood trickling out of her nose.

Glenn shouted, “No!” and huddled over the fallen doctor, drenching her in tears and snot. The two buff orderlies grabbed him by the arms and roughly dragged him out of the cell screaming, “No!” and “I want presents!”

“Merry Christmas, asshole!” screamed one of the orderlies before Kate heard another zapping noise. The sounds of Glenn’s painful cries were drowned out by the doctor’s own fading into blackness. The last thing she heard was a weakened and raspy version of, “I want presents.” Her black vision was wet with waterfall tears once again. Where would she go from here? Would she get her own padded cell? Would she be fired? Was there a chance to sue this hospital? Whatever the case would have been, Kate knew even in unconsciousness that it was too late to save Glenn Robertson.

“I want presents….I want presents…I want presents….” she said to herself.

Merry Christmas 2015

***MERRY CHRISTMAS 2015***

As I begin writing this journal entry, it’s seven o’clock at night, which means we’ve got five hours before Christmas day officially begins. As long as we’re this close to the holiday season, I want to wish all of you a Merry Christmas. Those are two words I could listen to over and over again. As I’ve said in the past, I don’t see Christmas as catering to a religion I’m not a part of. I see it as a magical time of year that we can all enjoy. It’s about families and friends being closer together and continuing that theme of closeness all throughout the years to come.

But Christmas isn’t without its negative connotations. I look all over the internet and no matter where I go, I always see someone acting like a Grinch. “Oh, Christmas is such hard work!” “Oh, I don’t want any presents this year!” “Oh, I hate Christmas, blah, blah, blah!” What could possibly be so wrong with such a happy time of the year? If you don’t like going out to shop for presents, order them on Amazon. If you don’t like the people you spend this holiday with, get some new people. Having a negative attitude toward Christmas is a lot like going to Disneyland, the happiest place on earth, and shitting on all of the seats to the roller coasters. Negativity never did anybody any good.

Last year’s Christmas was such a magical time for me that I held onto that spirit all throughout 2015 and became a happier person over the proceeding months. December 2014 will always be remembered as the month I went to San Diego to spend a day at Lego Land, another theme park that could be considered the happiest place on earth. That vacation was so much fun in so many ways: there was Lego Land, the San Diego Wildlife Park, strolling the beaches to guzzle eye candy, and it was all capped off by watching a movie at the cinemas called St. Vincent, which I’ve done a review for and gave a passing grade.

I held onto that feeling of happiness all throughout 2015 and a lot of positive things happened that year as a result. I rekindled my friendship with Marie Krepps and we’ve been beta reading for each other ever since. I vacationed in Victoria, Canada with my family and had a relaxing time. I saw Cavalera Conspiracy in concert and rocked the fuck out. I saw a symphonic band called Distant Worlds, whose music of choice was the Final Fantasy soundtrack. I got to see Slipknot, Lamb of God, and Three Days Grace on the same show and rocked the fuck out yet again. I got to wear a Slipknot costume for Halloween and I scared the shit out of everyone around me. The year was also a good one for reading, writing, and editing books. I currently have three active books on the market right now and despite their star-ratings, I can safely say I’m proud of all of them.

The point I’m trying to make is, don’t let Christmas become a disdainful experience for you. Find happiness in this generally happy holiday. If you get a CD as a present, rock out to it as much as possible. If you eat a big dinner, savor every last bite. If you’re spending the holiday with people you love, love them even more. Being a Grinch or a Scrooge is no good for no one. This is a day of celebration no matter which god you worship (or lack thereof). Be thankful for every good thing that happens to you on this day and bypass every bad thing. The more thankful you are, the more things you will have to be thankful for. If I sound like I’m parroting Rhonda Byrne, it’s because I am. Squawk! Squawk! Polly wants a cracker! Squawk!

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

　

***WWE MATCH REVIEW***

Last week, my television burned out, so I used money I saved up to buy a replacement. Thanks to that replacement, I was able to watch WWE NXT Takeover: London. It was a superior show top to bottom. Even the crowd was alive and well for these matches. They used S and F words despite the show being rated TV-PG and they even sang Beatles songs during matches. Although every match was great, the one I’d really like to give my next passing grade to is the NXT Women’s Championship match between Bayley (the champion) and Nia Jax (the challenger). Corey Graves referred to the size discrepancy of this match as being like Manny Pacquiao vs. Mike Tyson: two talented competitors from FAR different weight classes. Even so, it was the heart and the guts of the much smaller Bayley that won her the match by submission.

　

***PARODY LYRICS OF THE DAY***

“Here’s a little story about Garrison Kelly. He ate a bunch of food and got a big belly. He tried to exercise, but he got winded. His gym membership was rescinded. You don’t bring a knife to a gunfight! You’ll lose!”

-Sick Puppies singing “Gunfight”, but with my lyric modifications-

"A Naughty New Year's Eve" by Marie Krepps

BOOK TITLE: A Naughty New Year’s Eve
AUTHOR: Marie Krepps
YEAR: 2015
GENRE: Fictional Short Story
SUBGENRE: Vampire Erotica
GRADE: Pass


If you’re a reader of Marie Krepps’ “Some By Day, Some By Night” series, you’ve probably had this fantasy at least five or six times: the curvy Marla and the supermodel Morgan getting it on. Not only will Ms. Krepps’ short story make your wildest fantasies come true, it’ll make them last for as long as it takes you to climax. Forget the bed of roses, the sugary chocolates, and the silly cheese balls. No formalities here, just good old fashioned love-making between two of the sexiest vampires in the world of literature today. These two have had enough violence and war to last them an eternity as vampires. Let them have a little fun every once and a while!

As someone who reads Marie Krepps’ work on a frequent basis, I know firsthand that she doesn’t fool around when it comes to the sex scenes. Her characters will lick, kiss, suck, and squeeze every inch of each other’s bodies before the story really begins to earn its X-rating with the rough penetration and the endless passion. It should come as no surprise that this woman once had a book of short stories called Box of Chocolates. Trust me when I say, reading this short story will be a more orgasmic experience than swallowing the entire Hershey’s Chocolate factory and chasing it with a Twix bar. And by the way, left Twix and right Twix bars are the same damn thing, so go ahead and pull out your packing tape…but only if Marla and Morgan are the ones doing the binding. Hehe!

On a less perverted note, Marie isn’t just writing short story after short story: she’s building an entire world for these vampires to live in. The entire series of vampire erotica novels and stories is called “Some By Day, Some By Night”. This sexy adventure could be considered a vacation from the bloodshed, gore, and heartache the other stories bring about (not that those things are bad, but we all need a little hot action every once and a while). It’s a reminder just to relax and have fun with your life instead of taking everything too seriously all the time. I could learn to enjoy that message.

One last thing and then I’ll leave you all to your sexily fun reading adventure. In case you guys weren’t aware, Marie has been my personal mentor since the beginning of 2015. As a mentor, she always encourages me to show instead of tell. In other words, don’t tell us that Mitch McLeod is angry, show us his intense body language. In the case of Marie’s short story “A Naughty New Year’s Eve”, she practices what she preaches, and that’s what makes the sexy action so hot and boner-worthy to begin with. We can see with our own eyes what these two horny young ladies are doing to each other. The more we see, the more energetic we become.

Marie is an independent author through and through, but she writes like a pro and speaks like a badass. Every passing and extra credit grade I’ve given to her was earned through hard work and sagely wisdom. I’d like to think it takes a great deal of wisdom to be a writer and a mentor. If that’s the case, then I’m proud to be learning from the best. A passing grade will be assigned to this ultra-steamy sex story. She knocked it out of the park yet again!

Home Alone

MOVIE TITLE: Home Alone
DIRECTOR: John Hughes
YEAR: 1990
GENRE: Christmas Comedy
RATING: PG for slapstick violence and mild language
GRADE: Pass


After being humiliated during a big family pizza dinner, all eight-year-old Kevin McAllister wants is to live by himself with nobody to take orders from. He’s scheduled to go on a trip to Paris with said family, but in the scuffle of trying not to miss their flight, they left little Kevin behind. He’s living large with his huge bowls of ice cream and R-rated movies, but when two burglars named Harry and Marv begin casing his neighborhood for houses to target, the McAllister house is on that list. While Kevin’s family is trying to book a flight back home, he sets up booby traps for the invading burglars.

Anybody who remembers watching this movie as a kid like I did knows the best part about it isn’t the love between family members or the magic of Christmas. It’s the creative traps Kevin sets for his burglar buddies. The screams of agony by both Marv and Harry are hilarious to listen to despite the horrific pain they go through. The traps include a blowtorch to Harry’s head, a nail through Marv’s bare foot, paint cans to both of their heads, and swinging on a zip line into the side of Kevin’s house. Oh yeah, and don’t forget the pet tarantula being placed on Marv’s face; that’ll give you non-PG nightmares.

The ingenuity of the individual traps is enough to satisfy the imagination and tickle the funny bone of any child watching this family classic. But what if you’re watching this movie as an adult? Does family love become that much more important to you? Do you cheer for Kevin’s family to come home on time to take care of their little guy? Do you have a special place in your heart for the bonding between Kevin and old man Marley?

Marley was rumored to have murdered his family and packed their bodies in the snow to create mummies. In reality, he was the sweetest guy anybody could ever know. He’s legitimately afraid of trying to get back together with his estranged son and granddaughter after a bad falling out. It’s Kevin who coaxes Marley into reconciling with the ones he loves and misses. Remember that episode of Seinfeld when George cries after watching Home Alone? “The old man got to me!” That will be any adult watching this movie if they have a sensitive heart.

And of course, whether you’re a kid or an adult, the one piece of stealth Kevin uses on intruders of all sorts is one you’ll definitely appreciate. He watches an R-rated movie and leaves it playing in the background so that the intruders will think there’s an adult home supervising Kevin. The Little Nero’s (which is an obvious parody of Little Caesar’s) pizza guy gets a surprise when he leaves the pizza at the doorstep and thinks he’s being shot at with a machinegun. Marv also gets surprised when he thinks two burglars are in the house ahead of him and Harry arguing over who gets the final score. In today’s world, we have technology where we can edit clips together to have those effects. But this was 1990, where technology wasn’t even close to where it is today. Kevin had to rely on his creativity and his brains to get the job done.

When Christmastime finally rolls around and you want some comedic nostalgia, look no further than the first Home Alone. You can laugh, love, and have your creativity ignited at the same time. Maybe if you’re a DM for Dungeons & Dragons, you can treat your fellow players to these kinds of traps. Although to be fair to reality, if anybody got their head burned with a blowtorch, they’d need immediate medical attention and to be locked in a burn ward. Kids, don’t try any of those traps at home; you will die!