Tag Archives: author
Lost works of Dr. Seuss have been popping up madly. I searched my attic and found one about neighbors acting badly. I don’t own the rights so I won’t be a millionaire. But on my blog under “fair use” claims I figured I would share.
The Butthole Battle Book – Death to a Neighbor
Here’s a little story about a creature I abhor
A freak of nature who’s my closest neighbor
During my illustrious Twitter career there have been some recurring motifs. If I was George Lucas I’d likely call them “notes.” Like my Twitter is some kind of minuet or something.
The self-memes include things like Tombstone Authoring, Demotivational Dictionary, Bucket List and so much more. You, of course, won’t have any clue since you ignore my Twitter which is where the vast majority of my comedic goodness goes to die. And deservedly so.
The notes I’ve decided to share today deal with my “Autobiography” meme. And midi-chlorians. Lots and lots of midi-chlorians.
I am the chosen the one. The one who will bring unbalance to the farce.
Without further ado, bring on the notes!
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I thought it might be an interesting diversion to show you the creative process. The author stuff that goes on behind the curtain. This is also known as “I got nothing.”
For today we’ll consider the creation of a tweet, an art form limited to 140 characters or less.
The process begins with the humble germination of an idea. There’s nothing quite like that flash of inspiration that goes off like the proverbial lightbulb over one’s head. It may even be prompted by physical stimuli, such as something cold and squishy between one’s toes. Whatever it takes because the tweet is the thing!
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Like Mozart with his “too many notes” I have been shamed by the assertion that my heretofore writings contain, and I quote, “Too many words.”
The charge, bitterly leveled by my otherwise serviceable spouse, had placed me in the uncomfortable position of scheming the proper retort.
Thus quote the author, “.”
As such, it feels like a good time to scritch up another bit of regurgitated kibble, this time in the form of gristle. Today we honor the Taker family tree. Oops. The secret is out. My true last name is Gristle.
Well, it used to be Gristlé but the people at Ellis Island apparently hated accents on characters. They weren’t very acute.
With all humility I say unto you that the pre-digested link I’m about to offer up on ye olde silver platter is, without a doubt, the finest piece of prose I have ever produced. It still keeps me up late at night waiting for the Pulitzer jury to call.
Every note hits just right. Not a word or character is out of place. It’s exactly what would happen if an infinite number of ferrets poked their noses at an infinite number of typewriters for an infinite period of time. Perfection.
To read this piece is to know me on a very intimate level. It’s like drinking a little too much red wine then slipping your hand into my knickers. Hee hee! Intimate.
So, today, I offer up this nugget that didn’t fall far from the family tree, a sublime treat that I hope you will enjoy chewing on as much as I did, or at least as much as I enjoyed writing it. Hopefully it won’t boar you too much.
Once upon a time I participated in a thirty-day challenge where you had to write 30 stories containing exactly 30 words each. It was a 30-30-30 kind of a thing.
30 (thirty) is the natural number following 29 and preceding 31.
–Source: Wikipedia – 30 (number)
If you find that factoid interesting and fascinating (thanks Wikipedia!) then you’re going to love Brawndo – The Thirst Mutilator. It’s especially effective for people who never learned how to count. (Be sure to thank the person reading you this post.)
This piece of regurgitated gristle is brought to you by Brawndo, a proud sponsor of the American scream. Brawndo: It’s got what plants crave!
Above this line you’ll find exactly three times as many words as the original post, which you can read for yourself if you click the following link. If you can’t follow that simple instruction, move the little mousy and make it a go-go.
See? Exactly the same.
“But hey, Tom! She has readers.”
Well played, voice in my head. Well played. I can’t wait to get my hands on you. You are gonna die.
I’ve posted recipes in the past. I won’t bother linking them, though. I don’t remember what they were and besides, copy and paste is too much damn work. And I’m tired from writing an entire cook book.
Sometimes my wife cooks. Sometimes I cook. And that gave me an idea. I should lock my knowledge away in a tome.
Viola! Knowledge is served.
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