The Fall of Helloria Prologue – Spoiler Alert

I am not a fan of prologues.  As an author I want a story to unfold and the reader to grow into the story.  However I understand their purpose to assist readers in a purchasing decision.  Below is the first draft of the prologue for the upcoming release of the 4th book of my 19 story mythology.  It is my hope to have this book released no later than July of this year.  We are in editing phase and then onto eBook conversion.  The title of this fourth story is the Fall of Helloria, the first chronicle of Allivar.  Many readers of my trilogy stated they wished the story never ended.  So I purposely crafted in the trilogy the possibility of a line of stories that brought to perspective a different viewpoint which can only be understood by grasping the complexity of the trilogy.

****SPOILER ALERT*****

In the trilogy I gave a compressed history of the falling of nine heavenly worlds and of six ages of history before the main character was introduced.  This chronicle and the next fifteen will go into the telling of the nine tragedies and the six ages of defiance on Allivar.  These stories are of the heroes and heroines of those world and ages, the origin of monsters, and the plots and rebellion of the forces of evil.  Those that read the trilogy know the armies of the seven races appeared on the last day of battle and that the Unseen also unleashed the armies of light.  These stories are about their perspective up to the moment when they arrive in the final  battle of good and evil.  In the trilogy I left hints and clues about them.  Now you will know the full story.

Let the journey begin, again.

Melin awoke in complete darkness, frightened and in severe pain. She could taste the thick steely blood on her lip and the smell of death in the air. At first she had to clear her mind and think back how the best day of her life had become this nightmare. One moment she was the talk of Peartown – she wore a lovely new tunic and was turning the heads of eligible young men. One man of a prominent family was even eager to introduce his son. She had come of age and was more alive than ever. All she dreamed about seemed within touch. Now, she sat silent and still for fear of what would happen next. Above her was a monster and he had taken children in his delusional state and in that darkness they called for rescue. Her mothering instincts came to life and she vowed she would not let evil harm them again. She went from fear to defiance.

Above in the daylight was the young man Gahar, once shunned by his father for the unjust cause of his mother’s death at his birth and then shunned again unjustly by the one he had loved all his life, Sondria. After a long struggle in his mind between good and evil, he succumbed to the darkness, for Haggarfuse, the immortal steward of Helloria, promised him all his desires – immortality and power. He was now the monster Melin feared, fallen and separated forever from the light of life and love. For his perceived torture, he now set upon the path of destruction against all for the source of his pain – all living mortals. Here in this world his path of vengeance began.

***

     I am Arimar, the Chosen One of Allivar and you know of my story, but there are stories of worlds and ancient times that must now be told and never be forgotten. Our future is not yet certain and all depends on what we learn from our history. Come now and take your seat for the telling of the first tragedy of the heavens is about to begin. This is the chronicle of Helloria, the first fallen world, where by evil’s influence the lives of a young man and woman shall cross and the first battle of the heavens shall rise.

     Do not fool yourselves, this story does not have a happy ending, yet where there is tragedy, there is also hope. One shall exit darkness to enter the light and be protected forever. The other will be separated from the light and enter an eternal darkness. Here on Helloria the first mortal judgment has taken place and the battle of good and evil both in the living and ethereal realms begins, with consequences that will span millennium and the heavens. Here on Allivar is where the fate of all the forces of good and evil collided for a final confrontation. Now you shall know the entire story of the rise of evil and its rebellion against the heavens… and the gathering and defiance of the good armies of light.

Well, what do you think?  Are you eager to return to Allivar?

Fashion Disasters – June 2013 (Muffin Media Monetization)

This month I turn 54.  In those years I’ve seen a lot of fashions, maybe too many.  I have begun to wonder if people are insane or just need an eye exam.  You’ve probably seen what I have seen too.  Those people who parade their fashion disasters around like a badge of honor thinking they look sexy in tight fitting clothing.  They are too sexy for their shirts so they hike them up while the waistlines take a hike to the southern lands of Mordor.

On the backside there is usually some tattoo design just slightly above the Cracks of Doom.  Some have labeled these designs – Tramp Stamps.  Now that’s a little harsh, but they should have come to me for advice.   Just don’t forget the front side!   You’ve bedazzled everything else, why not that belly? Since you have lost all self respect, why not use that remaining space to  monetize your frontal muffin lobe?

Welcome M3 marketing!  That’s right, since you must want people’s attention with that muffin, why not get paid for it?  Simple little ads can make you (and me) big belly bucks, like:

Eat at Joes! Just say Brandi sent ya!

This allows Brandi to start a little revenue stream going from her excellent advertising space, to supplement that pole dancing routine revenue at Scragglys Gentleman’s Club and Health Clinic (another brilliant idea of mine in this age of one stop shopping).

M3 will be the social media medium of 2013.  I’ve got a new search engine ready to go, just type in MOOGLES and watch our entertaining little Moodles. Who doesn’t love a Moogles Muffin Moodle – it’s brilliant I tell you!

You can even use #Hashtags (limit 140 characters) and be the TWITter talk of the universe!

For those with major league muffins, you can run more descriptive ads and get higher compensation plans, a 401(k), health insurance, a pink Cadillac and all the maple muffins you can snarf down.

Yet some people need more than cleverly crafted words, they need music and dance routines.  So here is the Muffin Media theme song:

I once believed in miracles, now I just believe in making money by monetizing muffins.  Next up, the Muffin Mambo on Dancing with Doughnuts, and Muffin Mad Men with Mandy Maples.  One of these days my brilliant money making schemes will strike gold.  Market your muffin today!

Absurd?  You bet it is! Welcome to our mad muffled and moogled muffin times.

Nudists and Tornados

Nudist Humor

I have a follower and frequent commenter who is a nudist.  He has a good sense of humor. In May, we bantered over the need to take cover for upcoming storms.  We both live in Oklahoma.  I suggested he have tennis shoes by the ready.  I love going nude with my feet, but that’s about all.  I have nothing against nudists, to each his own, they don’t alarm or offend me.  On occasion I will run free willy around the house, until my wife tells me she needs me to go mow the lawn. Willy just pouts. But in the case of tornadoes I’d like to have a little clothing protection, so wee willy isn’t whisked away in the wailing wind.  I know, I know, alliterations make for bad writing, except absurd humor writing, my specialty.

Some day I just might interview a nudist to see what they find humorous.  For example, do Oklahoma nudists run nude in the winter?  We do get very stiff and cold winds here (no pun intended).  Do they get chaffed in the hot and humid Oklahoma summers?  Now I notice some nude camps play sports.  Do they wear athletic support devices? Do three legged races have a completely different meaning?  Is the potato sack race kinda rough? Are they penalized in volleyball for using their exposed body parts?

How do you recruit members? Please do not send picture of face, just the body.

But the biggest question of all is this, if a nudist is not aroused by the sight of another nudist, what works for them?  Clothing?

“Hey baby, put on that shirt!  Oh yeah, yeah, now the fur coat, oooh it’s getting hot in here!”

Or is it a hairdo or Tattoos? Do nudists go on and on about manicures and pedicures?  How can you possibly engage in conversation and control your eyes at the same time?  I’d go cross-eyed and pass out from vertigo.

You see, for me, the sexiest thing in life is seeing a woman in lingerie.  If provides mystique and a tease.  Once it’s all off, I find there isn’t truly that much differentiation.  It’s like stripping your sisters Barbie dolls naked and being terribly disappointed.

“That’s it?! I was going to have GI Joe come over and open a BarbieQ Nudist Colony. Why bother now.”

Sex and nudity are overrated. We spend way too much time on them.  This is why I write absurd post on them, so that you will read them, since my fantasy trilogy and the upcoming chronicles seem of no interest.  Sorry, no nudity or salacious plots, just a quest, a completely clothed quest.

So as I close this post, I am not judging a nudist, I respect their beliefs in wearing no briefs.  Besides if we were all the same, life would sure be dull.  Oh and by the way, my reader really liked a reference, not my own, of Dashing Danglies.  I’ll leave this to your salacious imagination.

Apocalypse Monthly – June 2013 Edition (So very close)

Tragedies can change a person.  Sometimes for the best and sometimes for the worst.  This May I heard more tornado sirens being sounded that at any other time in my life.  I live in Norman, OK just nine miles from  Moore and seventeen miles from Oklahoma City.  There were horrible and heart-breaking deaths reported and very serious damage to property.  One day as I drove to the City I went right by the damage of the F5 tornado that crossed Interstate 35 in Moore.  There was no damage to the interstate but it backed up and crawled for miles.

I lived in Edmond in the 1980′s which was also struck by a tornado in May 2013.  I was taken back to the days where Oklahomans would come to a stop if there was anything on the roadside worthy of viewing and gossip. It was the first clue that reality TV was going to be big. Gawking, this is possibly the worst trait of humanity. This morbid need to see destruction, instead of moving on and getting on with life.  You’ve seen it on the news, please move on.  Precious seconds of your life have been lost and can never be regained.  Worse than gawkers are the scam artists and looters, and we have had our share of each.

One truly uplifting moment came to my vision was the sense of humor of a Moore homeowner.  Here a home barely stood and plywood covered a place where a sliding glass door stood and on the plywood the following was written,

“For Sale – New home soon to be 4 bedroom.”

This person and I could be great friends. Life will present tragedies, but as long as we have our lives (truly the greatest possession) we can rebuild and move on.

As a father and now grandfather, my heart hurt to read of a young mother who died with her infant while being trapped in her car as another F5 plowed through Yukon along Interstate 40.  That day a series of supercell storms merged to form one very large storm which spawned several tornadoes, one which veered from an easterly direction and headed due south to my community.  A tornado emergency had been declared with the same warning as on May 20, “Get underground or you may die.”  This warning sent many Oklahomans on a southward trek on I-35, congesting it to the point of a standstill and a death trap.  Me, my wife and daughter prepared for the worse.  I advised them that since I was the oldest I would use my body to shield them if it came to that point. Although I would love to live longer and experience more, I have lived a blessed life, one in which my family and home have been spared.

Normally this monthly post is about humor, but this time it is truly about an apocalypse.  Oklahoma just recently was named the number one state for Tornadoes.  We’d rather be known as number one in college football or an NBA championship.  Rarely do we human beings get a chance to reflect on life itself.  Most of the times we go through life in robotic fashion, taking life itself for granted.  There are those that will devastated for the remainder of their lives by this May.  Some may become bitter and denounce a god they once believed in.  Others may give thanks for being spared, or fall to grief wondering why they survived. Chances are we will forget and become complacent yet again.  We will talk of the need for storm shelters, but letting go of money will cloud our decisions.

I took only one thing from the storms.  The very essence of living.  That at any moment our time may end.  We may see it coming and flashback to all the time we wasted.  For me, this has reinvigorated the need to get busy living and not waste my time working for the attainment of more physical possessions, but for the enjoyment of what I have. My hope is that you will also find the time each day to set aside all that ails your mind in this modern techno politically driven world.  I am very lucky to have known a much simpler time, and soon I will return to that simple living, for the future is not an abstract idea as it is was our youth.  Time is rolling faster now and the greatest apocalypse of all is the vanity to believe we have unlimited time.  So I shall live each day with a urgent need to live it, because too many came so very close to losing it, and I could have been one of them.

“Get Busy Living, or Get Busy Dying.”

Summer Poochie Poo Poo

Big Bollocks Bobby

For all you folks who love to walk your dogs around the neighborhood, just know that it is getting closer to summer and the sweltering Oklahoma heat and humidity.  This means the summer poochie poo poo is about to get really rank.  So please, can you at least pick up the remains of that Alpo meal?  Take a close look at that sweet pooch face and then turn it around.  Yes, it has that end too, one that it licks and then licks you. I have a Golden Retriever and thankfully she never retrieves her poo, I take care of that for her.  When we walk her we always take a Walmart plastic bag, one of the six trillion we have.

Nothing is worse than mowing over a hidden pile of rank and rotting Alpo. That sweet smell of cut grass is rudely interrupted by the vile smell from the tornadic action of my Toro lawn mower. Then there’s the swarm of poo poo loving insects, converging upon that scattered poo.  No where in the Toro owners manual does it claim to be a poo poo collector. For God’s sake, please have some common courtesy!  I’m sure if the pooches could pick it up they would.  They trust you to do what is right with their dooty. I am convinced dog owner’s such as these wind up in Dante’s third level of hell. Yet some simply believe your yard is in the public domain, or that it is just plain funny.  For these irresponsible owners, Big Bobby has a new line of products sure to catch their attention once and for all:

The Poo Poo Sling ($19.99)

Ever wanted to pretend you were David the giant killer?  Well here’s your chance! Big Bobby’s patented poo poo slinger has an accurate range of 100 yards.  Just load up that little poodle pile and sling it right back to the owner, who’s just a little too delicate to touch little Polly’s poodle poo poo pile.

The Poo Poopult ($129.99)

Are pooch owners laying siege to your perfect lawn?  Return the siege with Bobby’s patented poo poopult (think catapult).  Bobby will even include a training video so that you can determine the proper poo poo pulting physics. Let loose of even the largest dalmatian dung. Dung Flung Range: 1 quarter mile.

The Poo Poo Scatter Gun ($214.23)

And you just thought those compressed air guns were for launching t-shirts! Well with Big Bobby’s patented S@#* scatter technology, there will be no chance at missing the offender, guaranteed or your money back.

Is Big Bobby getting the message across?  Don’t be a poo poo head.  If you got the bollocks to leave your piles, then Bobby has the even bigger bollocks to go to poo poo war.  We domesticated these wolves, so now please keep your poo poo at your domicile.  And if this doesn’t work, Bobby has the Dung Dump Truck available for rental.

Have a poo poo free summer!

The Man Club – June 2013 Edition (Wedding crashers – on the rocks)

Wedding Leap of Death

This month I explored the insanity of a June wedding and why it means anything at all to women.  Women are insane, but clever.  Let’s revisit the movie the Wedding Crashers.  Here two heroes have conquered the world of women, only to succumb to their succubus clever ways.  By the end of the movie the men are slobbering wusses.  That’s right, you read this writing right.  You are wusses and cannot even apply to this club.  One must stand before the membership counsel (me, myself and I) unsullied by the ways of women.  If you come to my club in tears after a night out selecting of china, silverware and stemware, it’s too late for you.  You are fallen, you are now a member of the women’s inferno club, lost forever, constantly digging your way through the muck of the eight level of marriage hell.  Bliss? HA, there is no such thing.

The Man Club is here to provide you with superior wisdom and counsel, all for the low monthly membership fee of $199.99.  Hey!  Wisdom isn’t cheap.

So if you are thinking of crashing a wedding to pick up on ladies, you’ll need a good stiff drink to live through it. And the Man Club has the answer – the Wedding Crasher, on the rocks, shaken, not stirred.  You will find this and other life and wife survival concoctions in section 007.

Section 007, Paragraph 1(a) – The Wedding Crasher

1. Vodka, 1 jigger
2. 151 Rum, 1 jigger
3. Jack Daniels, 1 jigger
4. Cabo Wabo Tequila, 1 jigger
5. A splash of lemon peel

Shake, then slam it down in one gulp.  Yes, it is bitter and potent, just like a marriage, that’s the point!  This way you will be so buzzed that when the bride ask how you liked her little vase she made from a Martha Stewart show from all the fake fingernails she saved, you can just smile and nod.  She’ll never know the difference. Then you and the groom can remain friends.  Say anything at all and you risk a life-long banishment from her domain.

Quick! I need a Wedding Crasher.
The bride wants to talk about her $25,000 Anne Barge dress – aaaaggghhh!

Should one of our members, or prospective members run into a bridesmaid who finds you attractive, witty, loves video games and Alien vs Predator, and all your stories incredibly fascinating; do not fall for it  – IT’S ALL A LIE – it is the oldest trick in the book.  You are a TWIT, and you are about to be caught in the succubus web with the life sucked out of you.  This is when you need a second round of the Wedding Crasher line of bar drinks (a $9.99 value FREE), with a chaser, I like to call the Bridesmaid’s Bane:

Section 007, Paragraph 1(b) – The Bridesmaid’s Bane

1. Vodka, 1 jigger
2. 151 Rum, 1 jigger
3. Jack Daniels, 1 jigger
4. Cabo Wabo Tequila, 1 jigger
5. A splash of lemon peel, chased with
6. Everclear – 1 jigger
7. Hillybilly Napalm (Mountain Moonshine) – 2 jiggers

Man Club Disclosure – you should not have a Bridesmaid Bane if you are smoking, near a smoker, fireplace, fireworks display, or a toaster oven.  Failure to heed this warning may result in spontaneous combustion, for which the Man Club is not responsible and you hereby waive any claim and ability to litigate.

After the chaser you will not be able to stand, and thus not lied to about being witty and clever.  You’ll thank me in the morning.  But for all you non-members who think you can handle it all on your own, just know the enemy has their own drink.

Bridesmaid Triple Succubus Sec

Trust me, you are doomed.  Join the club now for more male wisdom. I gotta million of em!

Female Code – June 2013 (Weddings)

PLEASE!!! Somebody get married – I feel the need to cry.

Here we go again!  That extra special month where women go insane and for some reason June 4th is the date.  If they aren’t marrying someone, by god, somebody better be getting married.  The national economy depends on that genetic defect in women that go screaming into the night over the flowers that will be in that little vase as one of the guests walk by.  And for god’s sake please tell her you noticed that little vase and compliment her over, and over, and over again.  She spent six months on perfecting that one little item alone.

Then there’s the dress. OMG – shoot me now.  In my wildest dreams I never thought they could make a reality show called Bridezilla.  What is with you women, REALLY?  Do you secretly go into your closets on your 1 year anniversary and salivate on the plastic covering?  You wear it once for a very short time and the groom is doing his best to strip you out of it. Some of these weddings cost tens of thousands of dollars.  You’d think they might want to invest it for the future.  Oh no, there can be no holding back for the princess of her once a life-time moment.  This is why I will ban all Disney movies if I ever get a granddaughter.  It places images into their minds, which then modifies their genetics and turns them into GMO’s (Girly Mangled Organism.)  You think a three-year old can throw a fit, just watch a bride.

Then women have to have the weddings in June. Outside. Outside without any shade. Well here in Oklahoma it might be 109 degrees without a moments notice.  There the men, dressed in tuxedos are sweating like feral pigs in heat, while the brides and her maids have low cut dresses to expose cleavage, (or so men thought), when in fact is that how they control the wedding and who suffers.  If a man ever mentions a fall or winter wedding, a Bridezilla’s hissy fit comes with flames. Of course there is the incessant crying by all the other females in attendance.  Why?  I haven’t a clue, this why I write this monthly post, so that someone can explain it to me.  They say it’s a happy cry.

Then there are the rings.  You ladies get a 5 caret diamond, while we guys get a gold band.  If I had to do it all over again I would have held out for a diamond studded Rolex, with an automatic anniversary reminder.  I would also want my very own tuxedo, with gold buttons.  And when I didn’t get what I wanted I’d throw a fit, such a fit that they’d create a new reality show named Groomollum. “Yes precioussss, we must have the one Rolex, yessss.”

Now, doesn’t that just sound silly?  Of course it does, it’s illogical and without reason, but we are talking about women now, so throw out all the books on philosophy and logic. This is why Aristotle was single and lucky wedding lingerie didn’t exist yet.

Then there is the reception where the bride receives a POD load of gifts; like cooking ware, followed by a microwave. Guess which one she cries over?  Nowhere in there is a wide screen television, golf clubs or XboX 3600.1.  Hey people, there’s a guy here too!  Now as the lovely couple nears the wedding night, the guy is going on and on about the pricey wedding.  This is where the simplistic genetics of a man come shining through.  Out of the closet comes the bride in a lacy Thinga Mabob and our attentions shift quickly like a hunting dog.  SQUIRREL!

Hubba Hubba Babe, forget the Rolex.

I am sure Eve brought the Apple to Adam, which Satan gave visions of a Fredericks of Hollywood catalog, and Adam was instantly doomed by the iFruit.  Weddings!  Who invented this insanity?