#FranklyMyDearIDontGiveADamnDay

Alien

Catchy hashtag, eh?

As a writer of both insane humor and satire, and even serious fantasy, you have to get noticed. This means you write about things in current society that have emotive effect, such as a mob of women, dressed in red clothing, pink bunny hats (oh wait, those are post labiaplasty hats), with faces equally red from anger – all directed at you.  This is what I do.  Dave Barry might do so or even Jon Stewart might and everyone would clap with excitement over their comic genius.   This is my attempt, so please leave your pitchforks and axes at home.  Let’s begin, shall we?

Get your inner Rhett Butler on by proclaiming the day after #InternationalWomensDay that you are a self-sufficient man by tweeting #FranklyMyDearIDontGiveADamnDay.  This will be immediately responded to by your wife or girlfriend with,

#MakeThatWithoutAWomanEverydayDAY!

or

#MakeYourOwnDinnerAfterYourPS4SafeSpaceDay.

Be careful what you ask for, it may come true.

You see Twitter has become a communication app for tit-for-tat social warfare.  Some of the things I read are horrible, but even when someone attempts sarcasm or satire, your rights to freedom of expression can set off a firestorm.  This is why I blog, no one reads this, so I can spout off anything that crosses my mind to get it permanently off my mind.  Yet, we all need to laugh more, even at ourselves.  We are letting politics control our lives and our dispositions toward our fellow human being.  Many are using hashtags like #Revolt and #Resist.  Try this instead,

#ResistOreosICantICantICant

Lighten up just a little.  Now that the CIA is recording everything we say or do, develop a little sense of humor about it.

#CIA #OMG I just typed #QWERTY by accident and a horde of bug-eyed aliens from the hemorrhoid system have announced their invasion #Revolt  #Resistance

They will see this and immediately block you.  See, I’ve got all the answers.  You can pay me later.

All you have to do is break the CIA’s data storage facilities with at least 50 very silly tweets per day. Get your Monty Python silliness surging to 100% and let it rip.   They’ll think you’re passing secrets in some form of alien re-engineered code and it will drive their decipher analysts bonkers. I’m not saying it’s aliens, but it’s aliens. Better yet, be nice to your fellow human being.  Naw, where’s the fun in that?

I leave you with one final tweet of wisdom to provide all my readers with some comfort.

#LoveThyNeighbor  because tomorrow the #QWERTY #Bugeyed #WeeWeeKiLeaking #HemorrhoidAliens invade. #Resist #Resist #Resist #EatOreos

If you fit into any shape or form of the words I used in the tweet above and are offended, I apologize, especially to the Oreo.

Advertisements

Ice Cream, Chopped Nuts and Chocolate Syrup

Many of my future stories are a result of some unusual dreams. Yet the dreams I have most seem to come when I indulge in a bowl of vanilla ice cream with chocolate syrup and chopped nuts sprinkled on top.  I don’t know what electro-chemical reactions are taking place, but all I have to say is “Cooool!” I have written down some of those dreams in my list of premises for future books.  But I wonder…am I being brainwashed by the companies that make these products?  What hallucinogen is being added to make me want to write? The next morning I have to then supplement the chemicals with caffeine from my one pot per day coffee habit and get busy writing.  A Pulitzer awaits me, I am sure of it!

My favorite dream is a recurring one.  There I am on an alien space craft running for my dear life, when I pass by a room with a naked lady.  Naturally, she has to be rescued and I am just the Knight to do it.  Luckily, the alien is slow.  Now my wife knows this dream and she asks what the naked lady looks like.  Of course, being chivalrous and a gentleman, I reply “Well she looks like you of course, sweetie!”  This is to by-pass an OMG moment (See the OMG post).  After rescuing the damsel the dream ends. Rescuing damsels is tough work and requires uber-REM sleep. I attribute this dream to the nuts.

Now some of my dreams are just too darn REAL!  One dream I recall has a hand shooting straight through the bottom of the bed and tries to drag me down through the bed.  What had happened was my entire left side went numb and I couldn’t lift my body up, so I suppose my mind then made up a story to scare the stuffing out of me. I actually slugged my arm trying to get the hand to release my arm, only to find out I was bruising myself.  I think there are gremlins in my head just rolling around and laughing their hiney’s off.  Next, they laugh and shout “Let’s replay the alien dream – yeah, yeah!”  I attribute this to the chocolate syrup.

The scariest dream, which I have had more than once, is of three dark and malevolent figures hovering or standing over me.  There I lay at extreme disadvantage.  I can’t even breathe or react. I am a stone, frozen flesh, unable to speak or defend myself.  I don’t like this dream; it truly frightens me and is the premise for an upcoming book “The Grays of Night.”  Do you like the title?  Sorry, no naked women in the plot.  I attribute this dream to the vanilla ice cream.

So, I switched to pistachio almond fudge ice cream instead with extra nuts.  Now instead of just one damsel in distress, there’s a whole spaceship full!  Woo Hoo, I love nuts!