Let it Grow, Let it Grow, Let it Grow

Many of my absurd inspirations come from Facebook conversations with authors.  One of my favorites is Danny Kemp from the United Kingdom.  My what a sense of humor he has.  Today he posted,

I had my hair cut today so the brain is slower than normal, please make allowances for me.

To which I responded,

“Are you related to Samson?” I asked.

“If he has money then yes,” said Danny.

My reply, “No, he was a peasant who had long powerful locks of hair.  He met a woman and then he was doomed.  Your hair cutter isn’t named Delilah is it?”

Then it dawned on me.  Men are wusses because we have allowed ourselves to believe converting to a subhuman species is what women want.  You are wrong, so very wrong.  Women want to dominate all life and all men.  They are evil incarnate and they want your hair – ALL OF IT – Bwahahahaha.


Sam and Del

This the true story of Sam and Del.  Sam was a strapping young goat herder and the lead singer of the chart busting super hair band – Flock of Goats.  He had long full locks of dark hair.  With that hair he had power,  he was a man, a manly man.  Then Del found him and told him goat herding wasn’t the place to be, so she backed up his bags and took him to Galilee, sea that is.

There she took him to Rodeo Bar Mitzvah Drive and bought him sandals and Capri’s, a little chartreuse scarf and a European man bag. She gave him a mani and a pedi, yet he still wasn’t submitting. So she took Sam to Anton’s Coiffure and Facial Spa.  She had his body hair removed and little by little his locks cut off until he sank low in Anton’s chair utterly exhausted and slow of wit.  It was at that moment Del realized the source of Sam’s power and manliness – his hair.  She then went about spreading the news and soon all the hair rock bands of the 70’s and 80’s disappeared.  What came next was a hideous transformation.  Disco, punk, rap and a new subhuman species crawled out of the murky waters – the Metroman.


Sing with me:
Metroman, Metroman curling his eyelashes like a girly man.

Soon Sam ceased to exist, he was a zombie and a wraith, neither living nor dead, just femininely fashionable. Del had conquered him and he was doomed to a hairless eternity. He was last seen with his Chihuahua’s Chewy and Louie walking aimlessly on Humuhumunukunuku Blvd with Del clinging to his hairless arms grinning wickedly in her victory.

The moral to this story is that men need to stay clear of hair obsessed women.  They want your hair and if they can’t have yours neither can you. They will lie to you and tell you are more manly without your hair, but once you cross that line your powers diminish and you begin to say, “Yes honey pookums,” all too often. So guard your hair in the shadows of the night, for somewhere the ghost of Del walks amongst us.

Now for the sing along:

Oh the women outside are frightful

For her, his hair is so delightful

And while you have power and control

Let It Grow! Let It Grow! Let It Grow!

She doesn’t show signs of stopping

She’s even into hair swapping

Your hair she wants to mow, just say no

Let It Grow! Let It Grow! Let It Grow!

When we finally kiss goodnight

She’ll rip them off with a knife!

But frankly I don’t give a damn

I’m hairy and still a man,

Let It Grow! Let It Grow! Let It Grow!

Disclaimer, remember this is suppose to be humor.  If you didn’t enjoy this, well, go shave off your hair in protest.

Just when you thought you had seen it all – North West

“I love the name ‘North.’ I’m pro-North, absolutely,” she said. “The way Kimwimmy explained it to me, north means highest power, and North is their highest point together. I thought that was really, really, really northernly sweet.”

When we stepped into the new millennium did  people’s brains just suddenly collapse?  Everyday I read of something even more bizarre than the bizarre day before it.  Naming babies has become a daily social media event.  Khalessi [Game of Thrones] is being snatched up like hotcakes [ooh… good name].

May I introduce our new daughter, Hotcakes Hollybush Horton. It’s a long sorted story, will you buy it for $1 million?

It appears anything and I mean anything goes these days.  Even more amazing is the justification for the action, such as

North means highest power.

I had to look this up in the dictionary, just in case I had lost my mind on its meaning.  I couldn’t find such a meaning anywhere.  Then,

North is their highest point together.

Again, I am not really sure what point she was trying to make.  Maybe you need a Kardcashinonit Kode Book (A $1,999 Value, including Kimwimmy’s photos and sex tape) to truly understand this Northern West Southeast Krew. Whew….. Why not name the baby NorthByNorth West?  That would sound so nostalgic and classy Cary Grant like?  Class – a word no longer found in the dictionary.


Geez Mon! Please tell me I’m not related.

Today I was at the bank when a teller greeted a customer she thought was pronounced as Karen, when the customer said her name was Kareen. When the teller repeated Karen, the customer got irate.   I am beginning to think that people are naming their kids so that name calling can take place and a lawsuit filed for a hate crime against names.  Kareen just might win a big settlement for emotional distress.

This is why you need Big Bollocks Bobby’s Bountiful Bouncing Baby Naming and Emotional Distress Lawsuit For Dummies  Book (A $19.99 value – just for $19.98. Bobby will throw in a few nude photos of himself too!)

Big Bollocks Bobby

Big Bollocks Bobby

Here you will find the proper names to Kash in on, just like the Kardcashinonits!  Bobby’s parents did! Here’s just a sample with names like,

Pruneface Parkinglot Pruitt

Pruneface Poopalot Pruitt

Belly South West

Belly South West Butt High PowerPoint North Smith

See what I mean?  None of it makes a damn bit of sense, but you are sure to be the talk of the town [15 minute guarantee.]  We also guarantee your child’s name will be so picked on by fellow students that you can settle emotional distress lawsuits from preschool all the way to their PhD’s.  Why work, let your kid’s name do it all for you?  Learn everything the Kardcashinonit way!! Just order Bobby’s bestselling DIY handbook – How to pay for your child’s education and do nothing for it!

Absurd?  You bet, every single day of the new millennium. Uh oh, I’ve just been summoned. What name have you read or heard lately that should make for an easy emotional distress lawsuit?

The Chick Magnet

Every so often I go retro.  Yes, those few painful moments in life when we look back at our youth.  The year, 1977, my senior year in high school at Abilene Cooper High School, Abilene, Texas.  I was a Cougar, a Cooper Cougar. Oh what a year!  Let me recap the highlights:

  • EMI sacked the Sex Pistols.
  • Snow fell in Miami for the first time in history, prompting scientific belief that global cooling would doom us all.
  • The Rings of Uranus were discovered. Nor Ouranos, but Uranus. [Inside joke – literally!]
  • Star Wars opened to rave reviews by high fans. “Whoa man, that was bitchin!”
  • Smokey and the Bandit was a hit, but the Pontiac Trans Am Firebird was the car I truly drooled over.
  • Close Encounters of the Third Kind made me pray for aliens so that I could escape Saturday Night Fever  and disco forever.It sucked then and it has a sucking power to the factor of the tenth power today.

Yup, that’s pretty much it.  But 1977 was the year I got my first new car, a Chevy Vega GT hatchback.  I went from invisibility to chick magnet with this baby!  Feast your eyes on what you Cougarettes missed!


Not too many people had new cars while in high school.  It was rare for parents to be able to afford cars, unlike today where kids get BMW’s just for staying in touch via text and Skype.  Back then I pledged an oath not to drink, smoke, or toke and to maintain good grades. Which I did, until the freshman year in college corrupted me. It’s true!

Now go back in time and imagine this stud of an author with his long wavy brown hair flowing in the air as he passes you by.  He winks, you melt.  He stops.  He opens the door and his gorgeous 6’1″, 135 pound svelte frame rises from the red faux leather seat.  You are attracted to him, you know you are. He speaks, “You wanna slow ride?” [Foghat song reference you sick people!]  You melt some more. He takes you to the back and opens the hatch and displays the folding rear seats that can accommodate two for a moonlight rendezvous. He slides in a Foreigner 8-track and plays “Feels like the first time.”  You pass out from the melting encounter of the third kind.


Not buying it?

Okay, here is how it really went.  I was getting ready to go home when a few girls approached me.  They speak, “Aren’t you the older brother of Rebel [My Sister.  Yes, it’s her real name].  I drool and spit all over the girls as I try to control my thoughts and lips.

I speak, “Sure, am! Uh huh, uh huh.” [Still acting cool like the character in Slingblade – “I like French Fry Taters, uh huh, uh huh.”]

Girls smiling, “Wanna give us a ride home – slowly?”

Me, still acting suave and much cooler from the excessive drooling, “You betcha!!!!!”

Now the entire time I was thinking I was a newly discovered chick magnet with this hot red Vega GT hatchback, my bitchin 8-track system, folding backseat love recliner and my long wavy Steve Perry [Journey fame] rock star quality haircut.  Even though I had really thick black horn rimmed glasses, acne and braces – I thought I was the MAN!  All that happened is that I drove these girls all around town, on my dime, so that they didn’t have to sweat walking home. What a Schmuck I was! Many years later, with corrective lenses of course, it dawned on me what I really was:


God how I hated high school!  Enough of this retro crap!  My god, “Staying Alive” is now playing in my mind.  SOMEBODY PLEASE SHOOT ME!

Now do you see why I write fantasy and humor?!

What high school memories do you recall you wished you could forget?

Dependent Squirrels


Why did God have to make squirrels so cute? That and I feel really guilty for killing a squirrel with one of my golf shots.  But I also love birds.  We have bird feeders in our backyard and special accommodations for our squirrels.  Lately our squirrels have become greedy and, well, down right dependent upon my generosity.  I’ve worked hard to convert my backyard to a piece of paradise.  Yeah, yeah, I know you can’t recreate Maui in Norman, OK but my wife and I dare to be intrepid dreamers.

Now its gone to the squirrels.


My squirrels literally beg.  Right next to our patio table is a brick planter.  The squirrels actually crawl down and yell at us for food.  I have a mix stashed away in a stainless steel bucket stored in a closet.  When they hear it open they come running.


We even give them their own personal chair to dine in!


And a nut reserve.  All they have to do is lift the lid and crawl in to get their meals.  I have a strict squirrel welfare program – you must work or entertain me for your food.  Oh… but that’s not enough!


They have to orchestrate a home invasion of the bird’s feeder and steal all their food!  Notice where they carved out some of the wood to fit their fat heads!


So, we stopped stocking all of the feeders as a lesson in dependency.  For awhile the squirrels barked at us and even came to our patio table begging, just as the one in the meme above.  After a month off the welfare dole they are now robbing a neighbors Peach tree.  We can hear them curse, not the Peach tree owners, the squirrels!  They prefer the mix I was supplying them, but I had to end their addiction.  I had become a nut and fruit mix squirrel pusher!

Little did I realize that my attempt to be humane to the squirrels backfired with the birds.  They now drop bombs from 30,000 feet in protest.  Geez, it’s hard to be charitable these days.

Let this be a lesson in humanity.  If you get addicted to free nuts, someone will eventually cut off the nuts.  Lame and absurd?  You betcha!

Humuhumunukunukuapua’a (Hawaiian Language Lesson)

No, you are seeing this correctly.  This is the Hawaiian name for the reef trigger fish, the state fish of Hawaii.


My wife and I decided a few years ago to learn a second language so that we could have secrets and no one would know what the hell we would be talking about, or about whom.  So we decided to learn Hawaiian or at least begin to.  It is our dream to one day retire somewhere in Hawaii under a Mai Tai Tiki Hut, which serves nonstop Mai Tai’s – of course.  But to do this we need to respect the native Hawaiian’s by speaking their language and graciously thanking them, over and over for sharing paradise with us.  This means pronouncing the longest word I have ever seen.  We practice it daily and I think we have it down, until we consume too many Mai Tai’s and Blue Hawaiian’s, then it gets ugly, real ugly.

Now many years back we had a couple that lived next to us that had an impossible Thai last name to pronounce.  This is why we did not choose Thai. With Hawaiian you get a somewhat simple language.  Aloha means hello and goodbye.  You gotta love that!  Except when used around in-laws who might confuse it with “Come back soon.”  This is when we say “Kapu!”  Which means forbidden.  If you really want to throw them for a loop say, “Aloha Pilau Humumunukunukuapua’a”  [Translation: Goodbye Stinky Fish.]

Now I seriously hope that I do not offend any native Hawaiian with my sense of humor.  I am sure they talk amongst themselves about the English language being terribly difficult, which I completely agree.  Why can’t “Mahalo Mai Tai” be enough?  It means thank you for the endless supply of Mai Tai’s!  Three simple little words.  The natives are brilliant!!!!

If I said, “Wahine Wikiwiki Pupu” I might get slapped, but all it means is, “Lady hurry up with the appetizers!”  Try that at McDonalds this week.  People will be clearing out the lines and the restaurant when you pronounce Pupu ( Poo Poo).  This is how you can get really fast service – wikiwiki.  Use Pupu at crowded bars and swimming pools too, just to liven up the day.

When we go see a movie there are always those truly important people [Okole] who must receive their text messages during the show so I miss out on the narrative.  This is when I shout “Wikiwiki Kulikuli Pupu Okole!” [Translation: Hurry and shut up your appetizer you ass!]  I know, I know, it makes absolutely no sense, but boy does it sound really good and piss them off, just as they have pissed me off.  Then they will go home and lose sleep on what I might have said.

Now I sure hope the native Hawaiian’s will forgive me in the butchering of their language, it’s all in fun.

Aloha!  If you are an Okole that means goodbye. Oh, and please stop by our house if you are ever in Norman Oklahoma, we love visitors and we serve heavy Pupu platters and dakine Mai Tai’s – Hang Loose.

Just when you thought you had seen it all. Hairy stockings.



Leave it up to my friends on Facebook to lead me to the most absurd item of the week.  Sorry folks my witty humorous mind was away from writing as I completed my continuing education requirements as a CPA.  However in the midst of tax laws and investments, I came across the conversation of anti-pervert technology – the hairy stockings.  Now the friend who posted the article is a Greek woman.  She has several friends who are of Balkan heritage.  These ladies insinuated that it was feasible Balkan women just might be able to naturally have this anti-perversion technology in their genetics.  This led my perverted mind to the following movie title:

My Big Fat Greek Hairy Back and Bar Mitzvah

Don’t ask me why, I already told you I’m just perverted in the mind. Don’t you people read?  Which brings up a hairy question, what if this anti-perversion technique simply super-turbo charges a hair loving pervert, or a very lonely and very affectionate Sasquatch?  It figures, I live in a time when men shave their bodies and women want to become primates.


Geez Mon! Go shave your legs! You homo-sapiens gross me out!

Which brings me to another hairy ethical and moral issue.  If Balkan women are genetically inclined to grow thick primate like body hair, should unsuspecting men obtain DNA tests before they pop the question, or even worse place the One Ring of eternal darkness on the bride’s hand?  The test should come with sound effects like a person sighing relief if negative, then the terrifying screeching of a Wringwrath from Mordor if positive.  This way you could decide very quickly to stay, or run away as fast as your male shaven legs will take you to the cracks of doom and return the ring of power to whence it came.  But I perversely digress as usual.


Honey – I borrowed your razor. Do you mind?

As you can see, I’m just a 54 year old male having difficulty understanding the sexes and the world in general these days.  So don’t chuck away your razors ladies, save them for your boyfriends, brothers and husbands.  Is male shaving a male anti-pervert technique?  Be careful this might backfire and give anti-marriage signals and cease all procreation activities.  Gee, that would be a hairy bummer.

Finally, some women are just openly proud of their genetic predispositions or demonic possession, whichever the case.  They’ve decided to willfully come out of the jungle or cage.

Absurd?  You be the judge. The female code has a completely new meaning. I’m really tired but I think I’ll go back to taxes, their hairy and absurd too, but not as hairy as Balkan women apparently.

Take time to laugh your hairy hiney off today, or shave it – I don’t care. Geez Mon! Nair your hair if you must.

The Fall of Helloria Prologue – Spoiler Alert

AllivarChroniclesRiseofEvilI 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.


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?