Vampire Teeth:


I have long loved vampires. Not the sparkly kind that twinkle in the sun, mind you. I don’t have any time for that Twilight nonsense. I read the first book, and it was a mess. A MESS! I am glad I read it, though. My friends and I made a wonderful parody of it a few years back that was almost popular on the YouTube. It’s one of my prouder accomplishments. Enjoy:

I much prefer the Dracula inspired vampires or the charmingly handsome ones that come from the imagination of Anne Rice. If I had to choose to be an undead creature of the night, I’d absolutely be a vampire. You get to live forever! You get to stay up all night! You get to prey on horrific examples of humanity. The living forever bit is the one that charms me most. I’ve never had any interest in skipping off this mortal coil. That’s some Shakespearean quote I’ve been using a lot. I’m not terribly fond of Shakespeare, but I’m thinking of perhaps reading more of his works. Are you really educated without a background in Shakespeare? A few years back, I tried dressing up as a vampiric version of Karl Lagerfeld, but the fangs that I bought were absolutely shit! The molds didn’t work at all, and I was so pissed. I looked more like a phantom Karl Lagerfeld. This year, though, I was determined to finally have workable fangs for the staff Halloween party and I WAS TRIUMPHANT. I looked up the kind they use for movies and I ordered a set of those. They’re fabulous, reader! You mix up this quick-setting mold and fix them to your teeth and then when it dries, they almost suction on! I’m in heaven. I want to wear my fangs everywhere! I might.

Fresh Salad Greens:


I never intended to have a wild crop of salad greens creeping through my yard. I do, though, and it makes me a very happy man. I’m a big fan of salad. I still feel a little ridiculous saying that, but I really do enjoy them. If I could eat a beet salad for every meal, there would be no force that could stop me. I find them ridiculously delicious. I made one the other night and nearly passed out from the heavenly meal. I then proceeded to devour the entire bowl, which was meant to serve six. My diet is going great, guys… Anyway, I’ve been eating a lot of egg salad sandwiches. They’re just so good, but they can get repetitive, so I thought back on the versions I had from Marks & Spencers in London. They had theirs topped with loads of watercress. I have no watercress, sadly. I’d love to have huge bunches of it growing, but I do have baby arugula! So, I went out to the garden and harvested a huge crop of greens. There are bits of spinach, chard, kale, arugula, and mustard greens out there! It was heavenly. I cleaned them and pressed a big bunch of these zesty greens atop my egg salad. I took a bite and nearly passed out. IT WAS AMAZING. AMAZING! I can’t wait to make one the second I get home tonight. I’m going to gorge.

My Cemetery:


About a mile and a half from my house is the Old People’s Cemetery. I’ve probably written about it a dozen times, but I just adore this place so much. It’s very small and nobody’s been buried in there for years and years. It’s falling apart and it’s crumbling and every year it seems that more and more of the graves are being lost beneath the Iowa soil. They sink every year in the soft ground. It’s really rather sad and I would like to do a kind of archaeological restoration of the place. I’m not sure what goes into getting the appropriate permits for such an endeavor, though. There used to be these wonderfully huge trees that had died years ago. They were almost skeletal. Last year a huge windstorm swept in and one of the trees fell onto one of the ancient gravestones and it shattered. Understandably, the trees were removed. It’s a sad loss for the aesthetics of the graveyard. It’s still lonely and beautiful, though. Often I go there. I walk up the road a few times a week to read or write or listen to a podcast or think or nap. I’m always at that cemetery and I love it dearly. I want to buy the farmland right next to it so that I can build a little cottage beside the cemetery. I wonder if I could? I’d be deliriously happy to have a cemetery next to my house.



I’ve never really liked my sister’s house. There isn’t really anything wrong with her house. I mean this guy did get shot during a poker game. He died, too. But, that was all before she bought it. Several of the rooms have been repainted, but a few of them are still in the process of being painted and decorated. Jessica doesn’t have much, if any, ability to design a room, so it’s just not happening. I tend to stay at her house one night each week when we watch American Horror Story and eat too much food, so I’ve designated one of the rooms as my own. For some reason she doesn’t seem to agree, but whatever. I was tired of it because it’s not a terribly attractive room. The closet doesn’t have a door, there was clutter, and there wasn’t any art on the walls! How is a civilized person supposed to deal with that? Even worse, the light fixture had fallen off the ceiling. When I arrived yesterday, I just couldn’t take any more, so I set to work shaping it up into a habitable space. I reinstalled the light fixture, changed the sheets, made a makeshift door covering that turned out rather nicely, and put a picture on the wall that I found in her basement. Her basement is like a store. There were five unopened space heaters down there on one wall. It was like going to Target. So, I added a space heater to my bedroom, too. It’s delightful now. Redecorating is such fun. It reinvigorates a home. You should all spend the afternoon or the weekend redoing one of your rooms.



This love suddenly appeared. It didn’t begin for the music, reader. I was watching SNL and wondering how it is still being broadcast. I mean, it’s really not very funny at all, but it is an institution. Honestly, though, how many game show skits can you possibly write? It drives me nuts, but I still watch. I wonder why that is? I always fast forward through the musical bits unless it’s somebody I care about. I was a bit late to the remote when the singer came on, so I had the opportunity to see them. I said, “Hold up. Wait a minute. HELLO FUTURE BACKUP HUSBAND IF HARRY STYLES AND I GET MARRIED AND THEN DIVORCED.” That’s an actual quote. Let us take a moment to appreciate this Hozier gentleman.

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Now you understand. I’m a sucker for good long hair. The album is actually quite good, too. So there’s that. More importantly, the bun is amazing.


My Malfunctioning iPhone:


I made a promise to myself when I first bought my iPhone that I wouldn’t complain about it. EVER. I’ve done very well for over a year. It has treated me well and I have loved it dearly and we’ve been best friends since last October. Over the past week, though, it has been arguing with me and I feel bad. It’s like when your pet bites you. I updated to iOS 8 and everything was peachy for a spell. Then, it stopped charging properly. I can’t figure this one out. I assumed it was the cord, but it still works fine with other devices. So, I’ve had to pull out this ridiculous wireless charger I bought for it and it is actually working through that. Today is a fresh hell. Every time I try and use the silly thing, it freezes up. I’ve restarted it numerous times, but still it fights me. I assume this is a software glitch. I did just update it last night hoping that the latest update would fix the charging issues — it didn’t! I want to love my iPhone with reckless abandon once again. And I’m sure I will. Maybe this is a sign to update to the new one? I want the new one. It’s so pretty.

My Rapidly Ballooning Waistline:


Readers, I’m getting fat. It’s a travesty. It’s probably the donuts and the cookies, but I don’t want to admit it. It’s surely not the Diet Coke. I joked the other day that my bloodstream is probably 50% Diet Coke. It might be true. I drink an awful lot of Diet Coke. There are no calories in it, though, so why should I stop!?!? Anyway, I should probably start a diet. Oh Beysus, I don’t want to, though. I just want to eat all the food in the world, go on long walks, and take naps. Why can’t I have a nice shape by doing that? I used to exercise and watch my caloric intake, but with depression and working every day, it makes it hard to bother being healthy. Besides, that thing they say on the Facebook is true — buying health food costs unreasonably more than buying junk. What is life? Why is so unfair? Why can’t I just go get surgery? Where are my abs? Ugh. Why don’t my pants fit? I stepped on the scale the other morning and jumped back in fright. I honestly don’t understand where these extra fifteen pounds came from. I can’t really see them. I guess they spread out rather evenly over my body. Am I one of those old people now with low metabolisms? GOD I HATE THIS. But, I’m going to have to start the calorie thing again. It works. It’s just awful. UGH.

Struggle Writing With First Person:


I love writing. It’s one of my favorite things in all the world. I could write until my fingertips fall off. When I write my novels, I find myself going naturally into the third person. It’s an easy voice to write in since you can tell exactly what’s happening and what a character is feeling without having to deal so much with their emotions and the things they might miss out on. Writing in the first person is very much more personal and fun to read, though. I find that trying to create in this voice is a bit restrictive, but can be rather fun. I had a really good time last year writing my novella, Haskell & Eudora. It was told in the first person and I think I did a fine job. My novel, Terrible Miss Margo, which has not been published, is written in the third person. I like it a lot, but at certain points it feels rather clunky. I think a rewrite into the first person would be excellent, but there is a major death in the story, so I’m not sure how to kill off a first person character! Several people are giving me suggestions of similarly written stories on Facebook, so I’m going to have to do some research this weekend.

Writer’s Block:


I don’t know if I believe in writer’s block. I certainly know that some days it can be extraordinarily difficult to put pen to paper or to type out even a page of prose. I think writer’s block is more likely to be procrastination with a mixing of low inspiration. It’s awful to be uninspired. I have been working on a new novel and have about a third of it typed up, but all of a sudden my interest seems to have dried up. I love the characters and the setting and I know just where to plot is going, but when I go to actually work on the story, which I do each day, I feel a gaping chasm in my imagination. Nothing comes out. The words don’t spill from my brain as they’ve done in the past. The images and conversations and actions just sit stagnant in my head. I’m really getting annoyed. It’s probably just my mood or the change of season. I need to get back in my groove. My goal is to have this current novel in a rough draft form at the end of the school year. I still have a lot of time to get through it, I know, but I just don’t want to have to cut a bunch of drivel later on. I want it all to be rather good to begin with. LE SIGH.

Honey Boo Boo’s Cancellation:


I have, for many long years, been a vocal and big defender of the Boo Boo’s. I absolutely adore them, and I’ve written extensively about how they make me proud to be an American. (Read this post I did years ago.) I want them to be my actual family and I want to be their friends and I want to go to Redneck Days and jump into a mud pool with Alana. So, when I was told that the show was cancelled, I was understandably devastated. Those sweet, wonderful people. What would become of them? What will become of me? What wholesome family will I have to watch now and laugh with? NOBODY. This is awful. I don’t understand why Mama would be seen around a sexual predator let alone date them. It’s very disturbing. It’s the worst thing that has happened in my life for quite some time. I want there to be at least a finale of sorts so that the legions of fans can get closure. I guess we will just have to wait for one of them to write a tell-all book. Maybe the behind the scene truth is more sad than the charming front they put forward. I’m just so upset.

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