Typewriter Outtakes: OCD Much?

This entry is a follow up to a previous post called "It's Selectric, Boogie Woogie, Woogie!" Click here to read that entry if you haven't already, otherwise you're going to be so fucking lost I'm probably going to start pointing and laughing at you and that laughter will probably lead to a little piddle in my pants.

 

 

 

  

  

  

 

Did you enjoy this blahg entry? I hope so because if you didn't I'm moving to the mountains, any mountain, really, just to live and think and be one with thoughts of suicide. Juss playin'! But if you did enjoy it, pass it along to a friend or that other friend. And if you want to read the genesis of this blahg without taking 2 seconds to scroll up, click here. 

Fantasies of a Future Novelist: The Author Photo

If you’ve been stalking me on Facebook you may know that I’m writing a novel. As I type this, I’m 124 pages into the book and I am pumped about it. In all honesty, I haven’t been this excited about something since Leprechaun: Back 2 Tha' Hood. Oh, you didn’t know about the 6ff Leprechaun movie? Well, weren't you a dumb baby.

In my mind I’m already a famous author and fantasies float in and out throughout the day.

The “Trench Coat Treasure” Fantasy

Since I will constantly be traveling to the big cities of the U.S. and the world for publicity tours, I see no reason why I should not be wearing a large trench coat lined with pockets big enough to carry copies of my books. But not all of them will be filled with books, mind you. Half of the pockets will cradle delicious treats such as Red Vines or watermelon Jolly Ranchers. Then when I meet people I’ll impress them by grabbing one of my books from a pocket and signing it for them. If they have a child, I’ll give the little one a hi-five. Why not candy? Because I worked really fucking hard for that candy and I’m not going to give any to some leech that hasn’t worked a fucking day in her or his life. 

The “How Do You Pronounce That?” Fantasy

“International Best Seller Translated Into 41 Languages” is a quote I pulled from a book on my bookshelf called The Alchemist. I love this book, but we’re not talking about why certain pages are stuck together, are we? No, right now we’re talking about my books being translated into multiple different languages. I know I don’t have a single book published in any language yet, but as soon as my first one goes to print it will say “Translated Into 41 Languages.” What the reader will never know is that I made up 40 languages and published one of each. Merquatia bonfoodles, crisstarias! Translation: Marketing tricks, bitches!

The "You're Tha One With Tha Problem" Fantasy


In this fantasy I'm an alcoholic. All the greats were so why can't I? Faulkner, Kerouac, Stephanie Meyer. O.K. StephMey is not an alcoholic, but her writing sure makes me want to get loaded and ruin Christmas for all the little boys and all the little girls.

The “To Pose, or Not To Pose” Fantasy

Drum roll please. The inspiration for this post finally arrives: The Author Photo! It's the one that's usually on the back cover or inside flap of the book. Or, if you’re a super-douche, your body and/or face graces the cover (for some reason Dr. Phil comes to mind). Since I got it in my pretty little head to write a novel, I’ve been thinking about my author photo. Do I need one? Do I really want one? I don’t think my face will sell books. In fact it may cause a book burning campaign the likes of which haven’t been seen since that scene in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, you know the one, where there's a bunch of rowdy jew-haters and they're throwing a shit-ton of books onto this great big-ass fire that's so warm and cozy and exhaling the black smog of knowledge. Remember now? Thought so.

Anyway, if I do decide to get an author photo, I’ve been thinking a lot of doing one that'll make people laugh. I don’t take myself too seriously (read: this blahg). I would have a hard time seeing myself in a serious pose on the back of one of my books so the three options I’ve limited myself to are 1) Don’t have a photo 2) Take a goofy photo or 3) Take a serious photo but pay the gnomes that make the books to paste it face down on one of the inside flaps and call it a “publishing mistake.” Now, lots of authors don’t have a photo and for good reason: all authors are disgusting looking (for some reason Dr. Phil comes to mind). So option #1 is viable. I can take a goofy photo, but it probably would deter folks from buying my book until I get a few “best sellers” under my belt. So goofy photo is out for now. Clearly option #3 is what I have to go with (way to force my hand, Jesus).

 

Now before the big reveal, the inspiration for this blahg post, I’d like to say how much I admire this author. He has made his millions writing fiction, but I have never read any of it. Why? Because they’re scary and I’m a fraidy cat, or as I prefer to call me, a pussy. In the land of writing he's seriously my idol because he’s written so many massively successful books. According to the most reliable source of information on the webs, he’s written 49 novels and a couple of collections of short stories. But the true reason of why he’s my boner-of-the-books is because so many of his works have been adapted to the big screen. How many? Well I didn’t want to count because even the titles are scary and again, I’m a pussy. But here are a few you may have heard of: The Shining, It, The Lawnmower Man, Carrie, The Shawshank Redemption, Stand By Me, The Green Mile, and Misery. Now, Misery is the book that inspired this entire blahg post. And here’s the quick story of why:

I was putting all of my books (approx. 9) on my bookshelf in my new room. I flipped over Misery to look at the back, because I’m considering reading it, and I saw this photo of Stephen King. Seriously, this is the actual photo on the back of my copy:

Can I get a close up? 

Why thank you kind sir! 


You're welcome, dashing young gentleman!

O.K. Yeah, so the photo is fucking hilarious and it made me laugh out loud and now I have a scan of it hanging on my wall right above where I write. But seriously, fuck this guy. Not only does he write some solid pop culture lit that blows him up and splatters his craft onto the big screen, but he thought of my funny author photo idea too? Dick.

Never forgotten. 

Never forgiven.

And if you've read this and you're unaware that I finished the first draft of my novel, click here. 

And if you enjoyed this blahg post you should probably give up on life, snort a kilo of coke and drink yourself to the point of passing out on the floor and volcano vomiting into your eye. Or you could do me a favor and shoot this post along to your friends because fiscalcian merquatia, crisstarias! Translation: Grassroots marketing, bitches!

Todd's "10 Reasons Why Dogs are Better than Cats"

That's Right folks, back by popular demand is our guest blahgger Todd, a 43-year-old father of two who recently got through a messy divorce.  Wait, is this your first time here, Todd?

Yes. 

Alrighty, then you're technically not "back." So what's the "popular demand" about?

There is no "popular demand." You made that up because you're crazy. No one actually reads your blog. 

Jesus, Todd. I know you're going through a rough patch, but you don't have to be such a dick.

Whatever. Can I just get this over with?

Wow. Um, take it away.

10 Reasons Why Dogs are Better than Cats

 

By:  Todd, a disgruntled ex-husband

#10. Dogs play fetch. Cats play with their hair vomit.

#9. Dogs can do things like open up the refrigerator and retrieve an ice-cold beer when asked nicely, a class that you obviously missed.

#8. Cats shit on kitty litter in a box. Dogs shit on the grass outside. You shit on my heart.

#7. I agree, dogs will chase any tail that comes their way, but they’re dogs, Linda! They’re not in a committed relationship with their husband of 14 years!

#6. Dogs, DOGS, Linda, bark at the mailman. They growl at the mailman. Hell, they even chase the mailman. They don’t fuck the mailman! 

#5. Is this because he’s taller than me? Or because he doesn’t use hair-thickening spray? Or is it because I’d always do “the penis helicopter” to you every time I took a shower? PLEASE tell me it’s the penis helicopter. That would just be perfect.

#4. And Jesus Christ! Did you have to fuck a guy named Tad?! His name is nearly identical to mine. Hearing this from the guys in the office never gets old: “Hey Tad, what was the name of the guy your wife screwed while you were out of town? No, I said Todd. Why would I say Tad? Wait, his name is Tad? Haha! Shit dude, chill out. I was only joking.” AHAHAa,hap;iom,uq3;elfju9wx!!#QREF@#W$ESD

#3. Even if a dog knew how to use a cell phone, it sure as hell wouldn’t use it to send photos of its vagina to Tad. Although he’d probably find that hot. That sick fuck.

#2. Seriously! And I saw that you’re actually shaving down there for him. Oh, how sweet of you. Uhjkp[gdsadd01oiweroiwefviuoij qnweifqkdvoszv nzxcv oiafnvkasjf v3i434 gfk3j rvkadjf k kq3orefjcas dmXvxlas;dxfnkc X<Zfq.kaj wekflndk#######################

And #1. You know what? Go fuck yourself.

Runner up reasons:

#11. Slut.

#12. Dogs don’t know what a “porn addiction” is and THEY DON’T CARE IF YOU HAVE ONE!

#13. Thinks he’s pretty clever, does he? Using one of my golf clubs on you? The 3 "Wood"? I never loved you.

Did you enjoy this blahg post? If you did, pass it along to a friend or 1 million. I'm selling I.P. addresses on the black market. Not true, but I would like to get the word out about my blahg :).