Airport Distractions

Dear college girls and yoga pants (now with portions which are sheer),

Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. While sitting, half dead from waking up early and staying up late for three days in a row, in an airport, expected to land and go straight to work, there you were, the two of you, a combo possibly better than chocolate and peanut butter. (By the two of you, I refer to the combo of yoga pants and college girls. There were realistically at least a half dozen in one airport alone.)

Never mind they’re tighter than my boxer-briefs which I’d never be allowed to wear in public. Never mind that portions are now a sheer mesh on some yoga pants. Never mind that daisy dukes would leave me wondering more about what your butt looks like. You braved the world in a black second skin, and for that I say thank you.

There are few things more dreadful than sitting in an airport with nothing to do. But when you walk by with that disgusted look on your face, my admiration is a compliment on your fashion decisions and well kept butt.

A really bored guy in the airport who will burn his daughter’s yoga pants if she ever wears them in public

PS: In the words of Jayne Cobb, “I’ll be in my bunk.”


A – Z April: P

An old but good one.

Tim fidgeted his way up to Miss Williams’ desk. “Miss Williams, I need to use the potty.”

The small child was well known for doing what he could to get out of class. Miss Williams said, “Are you sure you have to go?”


There was a sure way to weed out the fakers in her first grade class. “First recite the alphabet, then you can go.”

The boy sighed, “A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J, K, L, M, N, O, Q, R, S, T, U, V, W, X, Y, and Z.”

It was unlike Tim to get the alphabet wrong, no matter how much he was trying to get out of work, so Miss Williams asked, “Tim, where’s the P?”

He responded, “Running down my leg.”

Welcome to Hoth

We might start learning about this later today in Wisconsin!

We might start learning about this later today in Wisconsin!

My car read -13. It’s -40 with windchill. We are as cold as Hoth.

I was mildly disappointed when I stepped outside, however. I didn’t feel like a popsicle. I felt pretty good in the cold.

However, my car disagreed with me plenty. Every time I tried to break it was very reactive. I stopped in a hurry. It felt very strange. My digital display had streaks and any time you altered the display it would have the previous notes frozen into it for a good while. My car hates this weather.

I let it warm up for about five minutes. From what I could tell, it wanted longer. The engine sounded a bit strained, like a child with asthma breathing after running a few miles. But I made it to work.

The roads are fairly ridiculous too. They’re frozen. It didn’t matter if there was anything on the road, like an ice mage it just conjured up what little moisture was in the air around it, and stuck it to the surface. Turning onto the highway, not a bit of build up in sight, I was skidding. It was exciting. I still cruised down the highway at a good haul, at least after I got out of the pinch where a truck and minivan didn’t want to let me in as I merged.

All the schools are shut down today. I wish work was cancelled, but we no longer get those beautiful leisure days. What would I do if I didn’t have to come into work? Workout and do dishes. I’m exciting. Maybe get some actual writing done instead of saying “Of course I’ll write,” then turning on Netflix as “background” noise and becoming all consumed with Captain Kirk and the exploits of the Starship Enterprise. I need to fall back on music like I used to.

Stay warm everyone! I hear Minnesota is making Milwaukee sound warm, but otherwise we’re pretty much as low as it gets.

To that I say, come visit Wisconsin, where if you pee outside it freezes before hitting the ground!


Vacuum Cleaner Equality

I got a new vacuum cleaner for my birthday and Christmas. It’s a Shark. Not quite a Dyson, but I won’t be complaining. It does what I need it to do. But as I was looking at the box, reading the instructions (after I put it together, what type of man do you take me for?!), I realized something horribly sexist: there are only pictures of women.

Yes, I saw the contradiction in the last paragraph. Let’s move past that. I’m excited to have this vacuum cleaner. My apartment will be beautiful and clean, and that makes me happy. I can’t wait to go home tonight and vacuum. Or tomorrow. More than likely tomorrow. So why are there no men? What happened in this age of feminism and sex equality that we only show women vacuuming? And where are the children? As a child, my brothers and I were the primary source of vacuuming. Where is the teenager, doing his chores as a good boy?

Ultimately in our world of equality, why are house chores still done by women? In my perfect world I’ll be the at home dad, while the woman brings home the bacon. I’ll cook and clean, watch the children and write novels, help with homework and workout. We need to promote gender equality so I can have my sugar mamma! So write to your local vacuum cleaner. Tell them to have men cleaning the carpets and raising kids. Can’t let the teens get lazy, so promote that too.

Poor Waldo

new-canaan-waldo (1)

We all know him. We love him with all our heart as children. But until recently, there’s a truth I had missed, for it was hidden like he has been all those years in my youth. Waldo is crippled.

I noticed the cane for the first time last week. A friend showed me the front cover of one of his books, and I saw the walking aid, telling me this poor man was stuck. He was a sad story of malfunctioning legs long before Bran.

Everything made sense to me. He was the greatest chameleon ever, hiding from diabolical assassins. His guise is to keep him alive, since he can’t run, fleeing from the killers hot on his trail. You’ve noticed it, no doubt.

He wears exactly what’s required to look like everyone else and to blend in to his surroundings. Never has he moved in the past several decades. He’s stuck in that one spot. You rebuke me with “But he’s smiling”?!

The smile plastered on this cartoon man’s face is not one of legitimate pleasure and joy. He is not, in fact, excited about the gathering around him. He smiles to blend in. He has conquered his fear. He smiles because everyone looks for the frown, the freaked out kid in the corner, and while it’s sad that child may be sacrificed for Waldo’s greater good, we’re helping an icon.

So the next time your child gets a Waldo book, tell them the story. Mourn for the difficulties of this childhood icon. And love him fully, for one day you’ll look at the page, and Waldo will be gone. The killers will have found him. And you’ll find him no longer, no matter how hard you look. Stay strong, Waldo. We’re here for you.

And Random Sex Scene

I bemoaned the other day randomly killing a character. I was cornered. What else could I do? It was him or her, and I had to make a choice. You don’t just shrug off the death of your family along with your own incredibly intricate castration. Did I mention how awesome this story is going to be? Ramsay Bolton was a bit of an inspiration.

I feel like I made up for it today. Two characters just decided to have sex. A few attempted assassinations, some heat, things got a little wet, then they got a little naked. And had sex. I didn’t describe it. I try to avoid that. Just the rough removal of clothing and scene. But I possibly brought a new life into the world, so it makes up for the random one I stripped. I feel better. And a little perverted. Anyone else still kind of play through the sex scenes in their head, grinning impishly and giggling? I’m just glad this didn’t happen while at a write in. Everyone would just look over and think, “What’s your problem?”

What do you do with your sex scenes? What’s the strangest thing that’s accidentally been introduced into your story? Do you get a little weepy when you know you’re betraying your character? I wonder if GRRM needs therapy after he finishes killing a Stark. I’d say he does a little, but he seems to relish in it.

Good news! Today’s NaNo marathon is going and I’m aiming for 20,000 words. I started with nearly 15,000, and I’m around 17,500. It’s only 9:30. I’m debating amping that up to 25,000 words.

Things to say when leaving the bathroom

“Is it supposed to be that color?”

“I definitely had corn last night.”

“Beets can make it red, right? I hope so.”

“I shouldn’t have drank all that food coloring.”

“I really need to see a doctor about that.”

“You don’t want to go in there.”

“I need fresh air!”

“That was at least two feet long.”

“I’ve never hurt so badly. It burns, man.”

“I’m going to need new underwear after that.”

What’s the worst thing you’ve said, thought, heard, or could possibly hear in this situation?