Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Wal-Mart Is Making Me Fat

I'm not what anyone would consider to be impulsive, but when I get an idea in my head that won't let go, I have to act on it. Take for example a discussion I had last week with my wife, Penny. She was making breakfast and I started to wax poetic about the morning meals that I would have as a kid in Scotland. At the top of my list was boiled egg and soldiers, with the military men in question being sliced pieces of toast that could be dipped into a runny boiled egg. We both wanted one right there and then, but seeing as how we didn't have egg cups, we settled for a more traditional breakfast.
Fast forward to earlier this morning with poor old me, head stuck in the fridge, trying to figure out what to eat. We always have a hen's assful of eggs, so I immediately thought of boiled egg and soldiers. It was either that or resort to eating an entire can of Pillsbury Cinnamon Rolls with icing. I hop in the car and head off to Wal-Mart to pick up a couple of egg cups so that Penny can enjoy the experience when she gets back from work. Problem is I can't find any. There are kitchen utensils that I have never seen or hear of before, including a device that will prevent bacon fat from spraying your bollocks when you cook egg cups though.
I make the mistake of asking the lady in the housewares section where I might find said egg cups and received a slack-jawed stare by way of response. Seems she, or anyone else in Wal-Mart for that matter has never heard of egg cups.
I admit defeat and head back to my car where my dog greets me with the same expression as the shop clerk. It's less than a 5 minute drive to my house, but by the time I get there I have convinced myself that the cinnamon rolls will become tainted if I don't eat the. I am well aware that they are in a vacuum sealed tin that would survive a nuclear attack, and that superior being from another galaxy would never be able to open that can, but I still have an inkling that the ebola virus will find its way in.
Thirty minutes later, my arteries clogged with icing, and I am filled with shame. 8 cinnamon rolls are gone, as well as a pot of coffee, and I am appalled. I feel like the dude from "Seven" and almost wish that Kevin Spacey would come and punish me for my sins. I soon realize that it's not my fault though, and that if Wal-Mart would just take the simple steps of selling egg cups, this kind of breakfast debauchery could be avoided.

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

A Little Help Please

I've just had an article accepted and placed live for the chance to win $150. I need page views and votes to help my chances, so please, if you have the time, take a moment to read.

Top 5 Bloodiest Horror Movie Moments

Monday, June 25, 2012

A War Of Words

I have recently set out on a quest to find some higher paying writing jobs and have found a couple of great sites that will allow me to do that. Both require you to write X amount of articles, each of which are rated by the client. The average rating at the end of those articles dictates what writing level you can pick orders from. The one I really want requires 4.6 out of 5 stars to get their Elite status, which translates to very high paying articles. After 8 articles I was maintaining a very healthy 4.875 average. I chose my next article carefully, wrote a very nice 300 word piece and waited for approval. Within minutes it was rejected, with the reasoning being "spellings."

Remaining calm, I went back and did a little perusal, followed by a spell check and found no errors. I WAS PISSED!! The negative ranking had dropped me down to a 4.4 and raised my blood pressure to 180 over 110. I contacted support, making sure to attach my original piece, and am happy to report that the negative rating was removed from my record. I have since finished two more articles and am now at 4.9. My blood pressure has also been restored to normal levels and I have patched the holes I made in the wall with my forehead.

Stay tuned for updates on my progress, but while you wait, here is another article that I just had accepted, all about the joys of bathroom remodeling.

Sunday, June 24, 2012

Onions and IPA

If you take a look at my profile picture on this blog, you may believe that I am a delicate little flower, what with my painted nails and happy smirk. The reality is that I am a towering, tattooed, 240 lb behemoth that eats cow meat for breakfast lunch and dinner, all washed down with a flagon of ale.

Ok, that may be taking it a little too far, but I do love meat and beer. My current favorite is the Steak and Cheese sandwich at the Local Republic (our favorite eating and drinking hole). What the name of the sandwich does not tell you is that it is loaded with fried onions, which just happen to be a personal favorite of mine. I like nothing better than to wolf down that sandwich, usually accompanied by a couple of pints of 2X IPA. It's a delicious combination that I adore, but my stomach automatically rebels against in ways that should never be mentioned......that's not going to stop me from doing so though.

To say that the combination of onions and IPA gives me gas is something of an understatement. It's so bad that if I am in the vicinity of people who live in the Mt Saint Helen's area it sends them running for the door. The only living creature that gets any joy from the eruptions is my dog who licks at the the pace around her in an attempt to get a mouthful of airborne meaty kibble. The fan above our bed runs without the aid of electricity on these evenings and the walls need a fresh lick of paint.

You would think that by now I would get it into my head that there is no amount of Pepto Bismol that can prevent the inevitable, but I never learn. I love onions and IPA, and if that means that I have to walk around for a 24 hour period sounding as though I am strapped to a James Bond jetapack, then so be it.


There are time when sleep won't come, no matter how hard I will it to do so. I shrug it off and figure I'll work, but when the sleepy bug is on my shoulder, tapping in my ear, the words don't come either.
I can deal with laying awake, watching the fan spin in lazy circles above my head, but that blinking cursor on a blank word document puts a knot in my belly the size of Texas.
Writing is my doesn't just pay the bills, it empties my head of negative thoughts and bad shit that turns to rot if left unattended.
Were it not for family I would drown in that negativity and probably be quite comfortable doing so. I spend so much time wallowing on words that it feels good to breathe a little and drink in the love that is sent my way by my wife and kids.
I'm tired, but alive....sleepy, yet happy......restless, but never alone, no matter what I sometimes feel.

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

I'm Huge In France

When I first started this blog, I was somewhat obsessed with the amount of visitors that I was receiving. I would refresh the stats every three minutes, uttering little squeaks of joy every time my visitor count moved up by one. The excitement ended pretty quickly when I drilled a little deeper and noticed that the locations my avid readers came from bore eerie similarities to where my friends and family lived.

I'm somewhat bored this evening, so thought it might be fun to take a look at my stats from the past week or two. I of course expected US, Canada, and UK to be tops, since that is where everyone I know lives, but France came in second, right behind the US. It would appear that I have become the Jerry Lewis of crappy bloggers with 89 French visitors gracing these pages in the last 2 weeks.

What this means is that with Euro 2012 starting in 2 days and Scotland once more no present in a major finals, I may have to switch allegiance an root for France. In a spooky twist of fate, my French ami's are matched up against England, which would have meant me automatically pulling for them anyway. The stars have aligned and I am off to buy a beret for the start of the tournament.