Wednesday, January 14, 2009

It's 930. No, there are no cookies for YOU.

Guess what I’m going to do today instead of posting any one of the 3 Wordsmiths stories I’ve written, all of which I kind of hate and so might write another one because damn, if I hate it then what will y’all think? I mean, really, one was about how Monty Hall rigged “Let’s Make a Deal,” one was about a group of virgins sacrificing dogs so their house wouldn’t be invaded by evil beings, and one was about genies and DEAD BABIES. Gah! Is there any one of those 3 that are even remotely interesting? Second problem: They took too many words to set up, so then I’m left with 150 words to actually write the story, and so there’s floundering and some pouting, perhaps some grinding of teeth because I LOVE AL THOSE WORDS and feel they must absolutely stay.

I hear you saying "editing is so cathartic"! I ask you though, how can one edit a dead baby, or she-dogs in heat who are having their life essences sucked from them, or a mathematician who has conquered the Monty Hall Problem? I say you cannot, and so I have trashed the stories (except maybe the dead baby one, because that actually TELLS A STORY instead of describing a scene, which isn’t really storytelling).

Grrrr. I have the flaccid anger of the frustrated wannabe amateur writer on me.

So, instead of posting a lame-ass story that I also happen to now hate with the fire of a thousand sunspots, I shall answer Grant’s questions, even though he didn’t submit them on the proper day, for when I am down in the dumps and feeling troubled, there’s nothing like spewing out factoids and opinions to make me feel smart and capable.

Happily, the first of Grant’s questions directly reflects my current writing situation:

What sort of situation do you think can best be described as "stabby stabby joy joy"?

FIRST ANSWER: writing a short piece of fiction that in my head sounds like a great idea but on paper stalls out like an airplane with insufficient lift (aeronautics similes, a specialty here at NAY). The stabby bit is ameliorated only by pressing the ‘delete’ button, which as you would expect happens to be the ‘joy joy’ bit.

SECOND ANSWER: When some douchenozzle on the highway thinks that every single damn lane is theirs to careen in and out of, thereby endangering everyone else on the road (the stabby bit), only to skid out at high speed on an unexpected turn, sending their airfoiled loud-mufflered piece of shit car on a flipping bouncing crash smack into a Jersey barrier, at which point their car bursts into a fireball of cinematic proportion just as the driver escapes and is forced to watch their bass-thumping go-fast mobile melt into a puddle of wasted dollars and hot remorse. Then the cops come and arrest them. Yay! Schadenfreude! Joy joy!

Also, who is the hottest Asian babe on the planet (post a pic with your answer) (google "Ebi-chan" if you get stuck)?

Ah Grant, you have such a narrow view of 'Asian.' Do you forget that India is also considered to be an Asian country? Have you not expanded your roving eye’s range to include that vast subcontinent of flash and color, hot spices and many-armed goddesses? For if you had, you may well have encountered Aishwarya Rai, possibly the most gorgeous woman on the face of this planet and perhaps several others. Look upon her, and tell me she is not bedable beyond belief:

Go on, TELL ME.

Note: At some point either she ditched the brown contacts she wore in earlier acting/modelling, or she’s started wearing these awesome green contacts that of course set her apart from the majority of the rest of the Bollywood stable of talent, but hey, either way man, I’d trade places with her in a minute for a day. I’m sure she’d enjoy being a middle-aged chubby woman with a desk job, mortgage, family, itchy dog, two warring cats, and enough home remodelling projects to make Bob Vila pop a Woodrow.

I mean, who WOULDN’T?


Y'all have a fantastic day. I'm off to do in 6 hours what I should have been doing the last week or so. Procrastination is my hot-headed beelzebuddy, ain't it a shame?

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