First off, I used to live in Las Vegas. Therefore, you could consider me somewhat of an expert on CRAZY people.
Though there is a debate as to their prevalance or even existence (and belive me, they do exist) unlike demons, vampires or ghouls, you don't need a special sixth sense to detect one. You just need a bit of common sense and maybe a vial of holy water.
Perhaps you knew a potential crazy when you were a child, like Little Lara Ledbetter who swore she would never marry, but would adopt 100 cats when she grew up. In the seventh grade, she wore high heels with tube socks and always rolled each sock into symmetrical do-nuts which stopped at each ankle. Was this some kind of new bizzare fashion trend? Had her cats told her to do it?
My favorite, or least favorite crazy person, was Jesus Christ. No, not that one. The one who picked up his daughter from play group at my house. Oh, yes, I was in for quite a surprise that day. Needless to say, my daughter wasn't too pleased when I told her she was no longer allowed to play with this particular girl. How do you explain to a five-year-old that her best friend's dad scares the crap out of Mommy?
By the way, did you know that Freddy Mercury and other famous celebrities were actually demons in disguise? Did you honestly think such raw musical genius could be possessed by a mere mortal? Pshaw! All this, according to Jesus Dad, who learned this shortly before he arose from the dead.
Yes, Bohemian Rhapsody is one of my all-time favorite songs. And no wonder I love it! Those demons really know how to rock!
So, PJ, how on earth do you deal with crazy people? Look, just smile and learn to take them in stride. They might be having an off day, an off week, possibly an off life. I know I've said some crazy things during my PMS cycle. Even though my PMS can get pretty ugly, I don't recall ever being resurrected from the dead. However, I have threatened to do bodily harm to others.
You see, we've all got a bit of crazy in us. Crazy can be good. After all, life would be pretty boring if we kept them all locked up in Vegas. Except for that flasher who did that really gross thing on the hood of my car in front of a Vegas night club. He can stay in Vegas.
Today's post was inspired by a particular writer friend of mine who is dealing with her own personal crazy.
BTW - My newest novel will be released this summer: DRIVING ME NUTS! - Three mental patients, two loaded guns, one stolen car and a WHOLE lot of trouble!
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Monday, May 23, 2011
PJ's List of Annoying Drivers
I wrote this list a while back and recently dug it up when I was cleaning my desktop. This list still has the power to irritate me while making me laugh. Enjoy! PJ
1. Parents who don’t put kids in car seats. Usually these parents are too distracted to drive safely as their little brats are bouncing all around the back seat. Where’s a cop when you need one?
2. Guys who blast their shi**y music with their windows down. Does the whole world want to listen to your crap? No. You think we all care about your expensive stereo, but we don’t. If I want to listen to music, I’ll turn on my own stereo, thank you. My stereo may not be as big as yours, but neither is my ego. Because you’re self centered and insecure, you need the world to listen to your music, so we can validate that you actually are cool.
3. People who load the back of their trucks with too much sh**. In order to save a tank of gas, you’ll try to stuff every scrap of your furniture into one load. Never mind the lawsuit you’ll be facing when your futon crashes through someone’s windshield. So far, I’ve dodged a lawn chair, a glass top coffee table and a mattress. Sorry, but your patio furniture isn’t my idea of a hood ornament.
4. The guy who orders the deluxe car wash for his piece of sh** ’82 rusty Dodge pickup with a missing front fender. Who in the hell is going to notice your Lustra three coat sealant? Save that extra four dollars for a new fender at the junkyard. I’ve got a schedule to keep, and I don’t like wasting my time waiting behind you.
5. The car snob who takes up two parking spaces so his car won’t get scratched. If your car is so damned special, then park it somewhere else – your garage. Borrow your friend’s ’82 rusty Dodge before you learn the hard way. Taking up two spaces will INCREASE your chances of damage to your pretty paint job. Like, the words ASSHOLE scrawled on your driver’s side door in key marks. Maybe you think you’re special because of your expensive car, but unless you’re the guy who massages my feet and makes me howl at night, you’re nobody to me.
1. Parents who don’t put kids in car seats. Usually these parents are too distracted to drive safely as their little brats are bouncing all around the back seat. Where’s a cop when you need one?
2. Guys who blast their shi**y music with their windows down. Does the whole world want to listen to your crap? No. You think we all care about your expensive stereo, but we don’t. If I want to listen to music, I’ll turn on my own stereo, thank you. My stereo may not be as big as yours, but neither is my ego. Because you’re self centered and insecure, you need the world to listen to your music, so we can validate that you actually are cool.
3. People who load the back of their trucks with too much sh**. In order to save a tank of gas, you’ll try to stuff every scrap of your furniture into one load. Never mind the lawsuit you’ll be facing when your futon crashes through someone’s windshield. So far, I’ve dodged a lawn chair, a glass top coffee table and a mattress. Sorry, but your patio furniture isn’t my idea of a hood ornament.
4. The guy who orders the deluxe car wash for his piece of sh** ’82 rusty Dodge pickup with a missing front fender. Who in the hell is going to notice your Lustra three coat sealant? Save that extra four dollars for a new fender at the junkyard. I’ve got a schedule to keep, and I don’t like wasting my time waiting behind you.
5. The car snob who takes up two parking spaces so his car won’t get scratched. If your car is so damned special, then park it somewhere else – your garage. Borrow your friend’s ’82 rusty Dodge before you learn the hard way. Taking up two spaces will INCREASE your chances of damage to your pretty paint job. Like, the words ASSHOLE scrawled on your driver’s side door in key marks. Maybe you think you’re special because of your expensive car, but unless you’re the guy who massages my feet and makes me howl at night, you’re nobody to me.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
From Tragedy to Parody
From Tragedy to Parody. Stop by Rebecca Knight's blog and find out why I wrote ROMANCE NOVEL plus read the hilarious scene that inspired it all! http://rebeccaknightbooks.blogspot.com/
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Too Many Ebooks or does someone want to hog the island?
A nice fella by the name of ANDRE posted a blog article that there are too durned many ebooks.
http://coolmainpress.com/ajwriting/
My favurit quote-tashun is how he calls us Kindlers 'hillbillies'.
"My adventures among the unfriendly hillbillies in the Kindle Swamplands..."
Mr. Andre, I don't reckon yur from around my neck of the woods, but Iz sure glad youz smart enough ta writes that article showin' us how dumb we are and all.
He wuz brave enuf ta soil his britches and trudge thru the Kindle muck and post the link ta his article on the Kindle Boards. Some of them Kindle authors is darned near riled up. I ain't no rocket scientist, but I gets the feeling Mr. Andre is tryin' ta hog the epub island and kick all of us other not-so-smart writters off.
That's just my opin-yun. That and about two bucks will git ya a cola and some corn fritters.
Now, normally, I ain't one ta hold no hard feelings, but I'z wanted ta show a little somethin' ta Mr. Andre. See, there, THE ISLAND IS MINE!
And a nutter thing, I gots the last mango, chocolate and Twinkie, (have ta read Kindle Boards ta git that joke) and I ain't sharin it wit nobody, except my fella hillbillie writters! PJ
http://coolmainpress.com/ajwriting/
My favurit quote-tashun is how he calls us Kindlers 'hillbillies'.
"My adventures among the unfriendly hillbillies in the Kindle Swamplands..."
Mr. Andre, I don't reckon yur from around my neck of the woods, but Iz sure glad youz smart enough ta writes that article showin' us how dumb we are and all.
He wuz brave enuf ta soil his britches and trudge thru the Kindle muck and post the link ta his article on the Kindle Boards. Some of them Kindle authors is darned near riled up. I ain't no rocket scientist, but I gets the feeling Mr. Andre is tryin' ta hog the epub island and kick all of us other not-so-smart writters off.
That's just my opin-yun. That and about two bucks will git ya a cola and some corn fritters.
Now, normally, I ain't one ta hold no hard feelings, but I'z wanted ta show a little somethin' ta Mr. Andre. See, there, THE ISLAND IS MINE!
And a nutter thing, I gots the last mango, chocolate and Twinkie, (have ta read Kindle Boards ta git that joke) and I ain't sharin it wit nobody, except my fella hillbillie writters! PJ
Monday, May 9, 2011
Celebrate my Cyberlaunch and enter to win a Starbuck's gift card!
Author Island is hosting my launch party today! Won't you join us? Register for a chance to win a Starbuck's gift card!
http://www.cyberlaunchparty.blogspot.com/
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
How many landfills can a vampire fill in an eternity?
Answer...a lot. And now here's Chapter One of ROMANCE NOVEL!
Chapter 1
“Miss Rosepetal. I’m afraid your baby is gravely ill. As each day passes, his heart beats slower. Eventually, it will stop.” Dr. Wannabush sat on the edge of his desk, twirling the tip of his dark, slender moustache, while he peered down at Smella Rosepetal through small, dark-rimmed spectacles.
“Not my little Joshua!” Hands clasped over her heart, the young mother‘s gaze swept over the rosy-cheeked, crimson-haired, infant sleeping in the basket beside her chair. “Doctor,” she cried, “you must save him!”
Dr. Wannabush stood, adjusting the heavy weight in his crotch while he thrust his pelvis precariously close to the bridge of Smella’s blemish-free, and not overly-large, forehead. “He will need a heart transplant, but the operation is risky.”
Smella managed to look up at the doctor’s face, despite the stiffened protrusion obscuring her vision. “How risky?” she asked.
Shaking his head, the doctor sat back down, the bulge in his plaid polyester pants looking more like an erect circus tent. “There is a fifty-percent chance he will not make it.”
“Oh, my baby!” She cried, her long tresses coming undone from their neat, maidenly confinement, in lush, cascading, dark waves, despite the fact that Smella hadn’t touched her scalp.
The doctor arched a slender brow. “And there’s more.”
“More?” she gasped.
“Your health insurance doesn’t cover this type of surgery.” The doctor leveled her with a hardened stare. “You will need five hundred thousand dollars.”
“Doctor, I’m a vulnerable single mother, desperately in need of a strong man to take care of me.” A hand flew to her brow and she turned pleading violet eyes upon him. “Where am I to get that kind of money?”
Lost in a perfectly staged, yet not painstakingly long, lapse of thought, the doctor rubbed his chiseled jaw. “Might I suggest you marry a young, sophisticated, wealthy Texas tycoon with raven hair and bulging biceps, who’s not afraid of a long-term commitment to a poor, ignorant, yet surprisingly beautiful, single mother, who for some reason has a flat stomach and firm breasts, despite the fact that she recently birthed an illegitimate child?”
“What a good idea.” Suddenly forgetting the gravity of the situation, Smella nearly jumped out of her seat, her perky breasts jiggling once, then coming to a complete, controlled stop. “How can I ever thank you?”
Dr. Wannabush shrugged, a sly grin creasing the corners of his mouth. “A quickie on top of my desk.”
Batting long, lush lashes, she shook her head apologetically. “I’m sorry, doctor, but I’m saving my virginity for my one true love.”
His forehead wrinkled in obvious confusion. “You have a baby.”
“Yes, I know. He’s the light of my life, and so smart.” She looked down at the baby again, which had somehow sprouted blond hair and a dimple in his chin. “He cries only on cue and knows not to interrupt a scene between Mommy and a minor secondary character.”
The doctor heaved a sigh. “Are you sure I can’t change your mind about that quickie?”
“No, doctor, I’m sorry. I must hurry to Texas if I am to save my baby.” Smella and her breasts quickly stood. She single-handedly lifted the infant’s basket with surprising ease before abruptly turning and heading for the door. “Thank you for everything. Maybe if you’re lucky, you will have sex in a sequel.”
Buy ROMANCE NOVEL ON KINDLE!
Buy ROMANCE NOVEL ON NOOK!
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
FLABIO'S new makeover!
Kindle authors, you rock! After much discussion on my cover, the authors over there on the Kindleboard, decided my cover fonts needed more 'pop'. If you are an author on Kindleboards, do you belong? If not, you are MISSING out!
Sooooo, here's my new cover. They suggested moving my little disclaimers beneath FLABIO'S moobs (man-boobs) and making the fonts bolder and a more legible Seriff. What do you think????
Though none of the kind authors suggested FLABIO get in better shape, I'm happy to report he is working out by jogging to the fridge, then to the toilet, and back again. Cramming those giant blueberry muffins layered with partially-hydrogenated-oil-artificial-butter-flavored-substitute into his mouth is a workout in itself!
Thank you Kindle Authors! PJ
Monday, May 2, 2011
Hilarious blog with Judd Exley!
Hey, people, go visit Judd Exley's page, would ya? I've got a new scene from ROMANCE NOVEL there and then you can peruse his hilarious blog. I swear, I've been enjoying his wit almost as much as he enjoys smelling his own elevator farts.
http://www.juddexley.com/
http://www.juddexley.com/
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