Saturday, November 21, 2015

Knows fifty ways to kill a man... with a fish

An extra in the indie film, "Good Day". "Because a man who doesn't wear a fish tie can never be a real man." ;-)


Wednesday, November 18, 2015

Chapter 3, In Which the Narrator Gets Pissed Off And Probably Pisses Off What Friends He Has Left In The Process

Dear you. No- not you - you. (And if you read this, and think, "Hey, I never meant THAT." - then don't worry, I'm not talking about you.)

Here is a Muppet News Flash: Being concerned that ISIS has infiltrated the Syrian refugees, especially when the past weekend has proven that it's highly likely, is not racist. It's being realistic.

It's not saying "All Muslims are terrorists."
It's not saying "The refugees are to blame for the attacks in Paris."
It's not saying "Round up all the Muslims and put them in internment camps."
It's not even saying America should refuse the refugees.

But it IS a valid concern. It is more than possible. And trying to shout down anyone who points it out as a racist is not going to change reality. If every single person who was concerned about ISIS infiltrating refugees was a card-carrying KKK member, it wouldn't change the reality of the situation.

Oh, and by the way, if you need to use false parallels to try and paint those with opposing views as bigots, then maybe your point is invalid. Just to correct a few false parallels:

Yes, Timothy McVeigh killed more people than the Paris attacks, and (gasp) was a white Christian. True, but no, Timothy McVeigh was not part of a global terrorist organization, which is the issue here. Try again.

Yes, some Americans were against Jewish refugees coming here back in World War II. Yes, those people were racist and wrong. No, there was no global Jewish extremist army at the time. No, there were no Jewish terrorists infiltrating the Holocaust survivors, and murdering random civilians within the countries that were taking them in. That's a pretty huge point to ignore, just because it doesn't fit your narrative.

Yes, Steve Jobs was the son of a Syrian. Who gives a shit? Are you so elitist that you believe everyone who has concerns about ISIS infiltration doesn't know that they are individuals of varying qualities and accomplishments?
And by the way, Steve Jobs was a piece of shit, so I don't know why you're using him as an example anyway.

(I'm not going to get into how ridiculous it is to try bring Native Americans into this.)

To sum up:

"But I'm just against racism."
Good for you, so am I.

"I don't want people to think all Muslims are terrorists."
I don't either. I know some Muslims, and some are good, kind people. Some are dickheads. They're individuals.

"I feel horrible for the refugees."
So do I, it's monstrous, what they're going through.

"The refugees aren't to blame for what happened in Paris."
I 100% agree. But ISIS members who infiltrated them most likely had a hand in it. That's the concern.

"The refugees are not ISIS."
No, they're not. They're escaping from the terror that ISIS has caused. They should be helped. HOWEVER, there is a valid concern that infiltration by ISIS is extremely easy.

"I don't think hosting refugees in America would be a danger."
Well... I think there are some concerns, but if that's the way you feel, hey- good for you. Hopefully, you're right. You should feel fee to say that.

"Saying there is a chance of ISIS infiltrating the refugees makes you a bigoted, uncaring, unfeeling racist."
Fuck you.


Friday, November 13, 2015

Now is the Autumn of our... something.

It's Friday morning. The wind is blowing against the panes in the windows. I should be finishing writing a scene, but something is telling me to wait. I know it sounds like laziness, but those insights have worked for me before.

I did a cool "Mystery Room" thing in Manhattan with friends and family who lived in the city last weekend, on my birthday. Basically, it's a point-and-click "escape the room" flash game in real life, with an hour time limit. (One clue leads to another leads to another...) Good times with good people, I wish teleporters existed for the rest.

Sometimes, I wonder if I've become a cosmic resource hog.

My major accomplishment this week has been neatly destroying a large chunk of a cinder-block wall with poured cement inside. Oh, the dreams of my youth, they're all coming true...

I have dreams of crashing various vehicles, helicopters, cars, TIE fighters... this is mildly disturbing, as in previous dreams, I would careen about in race cars out of control, but never crash. Is this the crash, or is that yet to come? Let me consult some sheep entrails.


Wednesday, November 11, 2015

Though I'm still pissed I had to download a game I bought on disk...

Fallout 4 and a day off make Tony no productivity something something.

Friday, November 06, 2015

Sometimes Shave Tovember

Waiting for the bus to the subway. I'm wearing a t-shirt in November, I love it. I have a lot of fun planned this weekend, I hope the nice weather holds out.
I'll be forty-three in a few days, my Hitchhiker's Guide year is almost over. I saw a guy this morning with a corncob vape pipe- I have to get me one of those.

The best thing about this blog is that when I write lengthy rants about things that annoy me, I realize they're just minor inconveniences, and not as huge as what I'm snowballing them into. Then I delete them. They aren't worth an entire post, and can usually be summarized in a single paragraph:

This makes me angry: The latest trend of general contractors making construction workers wear safety glasses all the time actually makes us less safe, because they distort vision, get fogged up, scratched, or dirty. Construction is dangerous, with tripping hazards everywhere. You're actually putting me at risk. I'm working in a humid tunnel at the moment. If someone drives a loader through the tunnel, and is wearing safety glasses that fog up because they'll be sent home if they don't, doesn't that put everyone who is working theres' lives at risk? Up your ass with broken glass for making my job unsafe, just for your liability, and claiming it's for my own good.

Preordering games in the digital download age without a major incentive is just plain stupid. It gives studios the license to overhype and put out crap, because they already have your money. (I'm not talking about kickstarting indie games here, I'm talking about AAA studios who have launched unplayable, bug-laden, expensive, overhyped junk, with the promise of a fix later. Preordering keeps that shitty train a-chugging.) Yeah, the Fallout series is one of my favorites, and I'm looking forward to Fallout 4, but what if it turns out to be another Batman: Arkham Knight? Just wait for the damn customer reviews and bug reports.

The TPP is going to fornicate the 99% like you wouldn't believe, and it's President Obama's baby. But please, tell me again how he's the greatest president ever, for working, middle-class Americans, and republicans are the bad guys. (Note: not advocating for the republican party, I just think all high-level politicians are out to screw us. Just don't piss in my face and tell me it's champagne. I'd really, really like to get on the Bernie hype train, but I've heard it all before...)

Sigh, I'm getting negative. You know what I'm hopeful about? Towels. Since my Hitchhiker's year is almost over, here is a poem I wrote while sitting and looking at a towel.

Fluffy (bongos)
Pink. You were purple once, but time and Tide sucked the color from your soul. (bongos)
Guzzling possessed radiator steam,
And toothpaste,
And soap,
And follicle oil. (bongos)
Microbial armies wage war, war, WAR,
Cutting, biting, licking, slurping,
Worshiping microbial Vishnu,
Many many arms, giving high fives,
Over a battlefield
That is like time
Slipping through William Shatner's nostrils,
Swinging from nose hair toupee to nose hair,
Tarzan, without his Keurig machine,
Because Jane forgot to refill it
Subway rail armpits,
Spit from the peaches of life.
All wiped up
Without complaint
By my towel.

Peace out, babies.

Tuesday, November 03, 2015

World domination, one review at a time

Woohoo, got my first UK review for The Lies of the Sage. Any chance of Tom Baker reading this? ;-)


Friday, October 30, 2015

Success means different things

Debris of Shadows Book I: The Lies of the Sage is now available at the Bernards Township Library. Funny, how happy that makes me.


Tuesday, October 27, 2015

In the Horning my own Toot Department...

With Kindle Unlimited and the Kindle Owners' Lending Library, I get paid by how many pages people have read. It's easy to get discouraged that my career hasn't quite reached Stephen King level yet, but it's nice to have proof that someone couldn't put one of my books down. :D 


Monday, October 26, 2015


I've gone below, to rejoin my people.

Wednesday, October 21, 2015

Stay gold, Ponyboy

This made me laugh, at first. But as the parent of a pre-teen with special needs, I'm happy they've made age-appropriate literature available to her. Next up, Atlas Shrugged...


Friday, September 18, 2015

Town Hall Q&A

Trump: Ok, you!

Mrs. A: Mister Trump, my children were stolen and eaten by mutant, cyborg penguins. What will you do to protect us?

Trump: That's a great question. This is the EXACT reason I'm going to repeal Obamacare, and replace it with something really... really... extra cool! OK, you!

Mr. B: Every year, congress votes itself larger and larger raises. Will you stop that from happening?

Trump: That's a really, really great question. This is the EXACT reason I'm going to repeal Obamacare, and replace it with something really... really... extra... like wow! What I have planned... you'll just... you'll shit yourselves, it's so awesome. OK, you!

Miss C: My baby daughter went outside without sunblock... and was eaten by a polar bear, who thought that her brains would give it natural immunity from bursting into flames. This is the tenth time this has happened since the polar ice caps melted, and the world flooded. What will you do to stop this?

Trump: Anyone here believe in global warming? Anyone? Anyone? No?... OK, last question... You!

Polar Bear: (Digging claws into Miss C's skull) BRAAAAAAIIIIIIINNNNNS!

Trump: That's a great question. This is the kind of question I like to hear. This is the EXACT reason I'm going to repeal Obamacare, and replace it with something wonderful, like, really cool, you're really going to love it. Thank you, and good night!


Saturday, September 05, 2015

And yea, did He damn them for their waddling, and tuxedo plumage!

Riding home on the F train from the East village, slightly inebriated on a few cider & fireball boilermakers. Does that count as a boilermaker? Who gives a shit, it's yummy.
I have a cup of matzoh ball soup from B & H, which is a vegetarian Deli. Much cheaper than Katz. When I get home, I'm going to drain it, remove all the carrots, add some chicken broth & Parmesan cheese, and watch Garth Marenghi's Darkplace, probably the Scotch Mist episode. Fuck vegetarianism.
Someday, I will retire. When I do, I will don an impeccable, expensive suit. I will make myself a fixture late Saturday nights in the subway, preferably in the East Village. There, I will preach loudly, with fire and thunder, about how Jesus saved us from the cybernetic penguin army of Satan. The world needs to know.
I love watching people. Yeah, old Scandinavian guy, ask the hot teenage girls for directions. Like they know.  I should ask the walnut-wrinkled little old lady across from me for directions, so she doesn't feel left out.
An old Chinese man has his forehead on his cane. Sad or tired? I'll leave him to his dignity. May the Schwartz be with us all

Monday, August 24, 2015

Let's Play Adventure!

My first "Let's Play" video, of the old Atari classic. Enjoy!

Wednesday, August 12, 2015

Meet the Mets!

Mandy's first Mets game. I'm more of a Yankees fan, but hey, when you only live a few miles from a major league stadium, you just have to enjoy it.

And the little dog you rode in on, too.

After more or less twenty-five years of social media, from Prodigy to AOL to Blogger, MySpace, Facebook, and Reddit, I have to say, I'm sick of it. I'm sick of seeing how polarized everyone's ideologies have become, including my own

Everyone has become completely unable to empathize with anyone else different than them - and the people who claim to be empathic are the worst. Women who think all men own the world, and therefore have no right to ever feel pain about anything, men who think women get a pussy-pass on every little thing so they should stop their whining, minorities who think all white people are the ruling class, white people who think all minorities get a free ride, far right wingnuts who ignore the problems of the world because they think god wants it that way, leftist liberals who are indistinguishable from religious extremists, and want everyone to go around flogging themselves for the sins of their "privilege" when most of them are not privileged at all... honestly, I'm sick of it all.

Yeah, I know, the person who shouts "I don't care" the loudest is the person who cares the most. If I didn't care, I wouldn't be writing this. I'm sick of being advertised to, I'm sick of being categorized for data-mining purposes. I'm sick of everything starting out fun, and then bit by bit being chipped away at and monetized. Sick of the world becoming a trigger-free safe-space because victimization power is so easy a bandwagon to jump on. I'm your victim for writing this, you're my victims for reading this... blah blah blah.

Anyway, to anyone I've ever treated like your worries or hurts didn't matter because of my own shit was somehow more important, either in person, or on the great wide interwebs, I hereby apologize. May the Schwartz be with us all.


Monday, August 03, 2015

The show started off with Al dancing through the streets of Morristown, singing "Tacky." Best thing to happen to that town since I was born there. ;) 

Once your middle school idol sings in your face from a few feet away, what else is there? Thank you Joe for sharing it with me.


Sunday, August 02, 2015

Finally, after thirty years!

In Morristown NJ, waiting with Joe to see The Artist Still Known as Weird Al. Hoping against hope for "Nature Trail to Hell," but I know I'll be lucky to hear any songs from the 80s at all. Young whippersnappers...


Tuesday, July 07, 2015

He's got the whole world in his hands


everything we experience - including our bodies - is  actually a model created by our minds from our nervous systems,


emotions (such as panic and anxiety) are felt as physical pain and discomfort,


does it not logically follow that we should be able to train our minds not to incorporate these emotions into its illusion of ourselves?



Wednesday, June 24, 2015

Friday, June 19, 2015

Nude Celebrity Fakes, and Shame, Shame, Shame!

If you don't know by now, season five of Game of Thrones has ended, as has Jon Snow's watch - at least until what's her name - The Night is Dark and Full of Terrors - resurrects him next season. Good thing she showed up at The Wall at the last second. Did she do that in the book, or was she there all along? I don't remember...

But the real shame (cowbell!) was that in the penultimate scene, HBO performed a digital Celebrity Fake, and put Lena Headey's face on another woman's naked body. They then paraded the composite Nude Evil Queen Mother through the streets for about fifteen minutes. The result was just bizarre.

Who really cares, anyway? You can see her boobs in other movies, if you want. (Let's be honest. If you've seen two boobs, you've seen them all.) I'm only annoyed because Lena Headey did interviews where she went on and on about how emotionally traumatizing shooting that scene was for her - implying that she had performed it naked, and therefore should be considered such a dedicated actress. If she and HBO had come clean about it instead of trying to hide the fact (and it was obvious - someone commented that she looks like the long-necked Jedi Master from the Star Wars prequels in some shots,) there wouldn't have been an issue.

Another bizarre thing is they chose a much younger, more fit actress as her body double, when a main point in the book was that her body was stretchmarky and saggy, and her (formerly) terrified subjects were thinking "Hey, she's nothing like we imagined - she's only human after all." They should have picked someone older. (That, and I guess the High Sparrow let her shave her legs and trim her... um... naughty bits after spending a month in a medieval dungeon.)

But what really, REALLY  annoyed me was how gratuitously long that scene was. when they completely skipped over Stanis the Manis's final battle - which, to me, was more important to the overall plot. Maybe if they hadn't spent so much money digitally covering up Lena Headey's vanity, they could have shown some good old fashioned family entertainment, like decapitations and disembowelment.

Oh well, back to reality, at least until next year.


Thursday, June 04, 2015

Manspreading the (Privileged) Butter

The other day, I rode the E-train home from work. As everyone in New York city knows, seats are a rare commodity on the subway, and some rude asshats take up more than their share. When you've been on your feet at the shitplant all day, and people are acting like selfish brats, temperatures can rise.

So this woman was half sitting, half leaning against the rail, taking up a seat and a half, with her purse plopped on the bench next to her. I asked her politely to move over, but she didn't. She just sat there. I asked her again, in case she hadn't heard me. She held her hand out to me, palm out, and turned her face to the window. I was so angry at her dismissive rudeness, I was seething.

In that moment, something became crystal clear to me: seething doesn’t help anyone, but sitting on a girl sure is satisfying.

I waited a moment. She leisurely stretched her calves, turned away from me, and then I sat on her.

“Excuse me,” I said, using my ass to crush her thigh. Outside of a horror movie, I have never seen anyone react so quickly to get away from another human being. There was terror, then disgust, then anger. I took out my book and turned to her. “Thank you,” I said, and then smiled like Christian Bale in American Psycho. It would have been rude otherwise.

Now, I hear you cry, "Tony, what the fuck are you doing? Ok, she was being a rude, stuck up bitch, but that's sexual assault. And now you're actually bragging about it online? I'm disgusted, you sick, misogynist bastard!"

Well, normally, you'd be right. But ha ha, the joke's on you. I didn't do that at all. I made the story up.

But everything from "In that moment" to "It would have been rude otherwise." is taken word for word from this blog post. All I did was change the genders.

Now, I have to be honest, I'm not really angry at the author for doing this. No harm done, really. Nor do I think that her kicking another man for not moving over - as she crows about later in the article - really caused him any harm.

What infuriates me is how she is being praised and lauded for behavior that if a man did, even playfully, would get him arrested and rightfully labeled a sex offender. Let's make it clear. These men, although rude assholes, did not in any way physically accost, threaten, or even verbally abuse her. This cannot, in any way shape or form, be seen as self defense. The internet-wide "you go girl," response to her actions is what I find inexcusable.

Based on the arguments I've had today, it seems I "just don't get the point." Apparently, this is because I have a penis. Mea culpa. The prevailing narrative is that the men not moving over so she could sit is not simply rude and inconsiderate behavior - which I would completely support her calling them out on. In their view, although she was the instigator, by ignoring her, they are being "aggressive," which, in their book, warrants physical or sexual assault.

And yes, White Knights - any unwanted intentional sexual contact is legally sexual assault. That includes the buttocks. If I pinched a woman's butt cheeks, how would that not be considered so? If a woman does not scootch over when she's hogging up the bench, does that give me the right to rub my junk on her? If she doesn't move her purse, am I allowed to kick her? No? Then why are so many people tying themselves in knots to justify the double standard?

But... something something something... privilege!  The guy was "Manspreading" you see, a new crime in New York City. If you don't know what it means, it's when men sit in a comfortable way due to their gender. Is it rude on a crowded train? Yes. Will most men (like most women) move over when asked? Yes. Are men being arrested for it when the train is half empty? Yes.
Dude, where's the ad of the woman laying with her legs up on the seat, or her handbags next to her? The NYPD says they will give summons to women as well, but I have yet to find any reports of it. Could it be that the MTA is constantly hemorrhaging money, raising fares, cutting service, and needs someone to blame for their over-packed trains? Could it be that men are a socially accepted scapegoat? Hmm...

OK, I'm digressing here. Where was I? Oh yes, "privilege." This word means that laws should only apply to certain people, because other people are perceived as having it better than them, in some way or other. But there are all kinds of privilege. Just because women historically get a much better deal than men in divorce court, does that mean that only women should be arrested for shoplifting? Of course not. You can't arbitrarily apply concrete laws because of a conceptual opinion. Not if "equality" is truly your goal.

I'll end with this question that I'd really like a woman to answer:

One man believes that women are equal, capable of being responsible for their actions, and thus, should be held to the same standards as men. Another believes that "Male Privilege" has made women a weakened sex, and therefore, they must be protected from the consequences of their own actions. As a result, they should be held to a lesser standard.

Which one of these men is sexist?


Monday, June 01, 2015

Are You Beach Body Ready?

A lot of hatred has been thrown at Protein World's ad campaign for showing a slender model in a bikini, along with the words "Are you beach body ready?" The ad has been called "fat-shaming" and has been banned in the U.K. for portraying an "unrealistic body image." There's also recent articles that claim that women prefer chubby "dad bods" over six-packs.

As someone who has battled with his weight for years, been repulsively titanic more often than not, and whose weight has fluctuated more than William Shatner's, I have to say... what complete, and utter bullshit.

Last week, I took my kids to Coney Island. As we walked along the boardwalk, we passed "Muscle Beach." My son asked me why anyone would want to work out where everyone could see.

"The same reason you see girls walking around in bikinis," I said. "They have nice bodies, and want to show them off."

He looked at me in shock. "But it's what's on the inside that matters. They shouldn't care about that."

I laughed. "Look," I said, "There's a huge difference in the world between the way people 'should' act, and the way they do. You have to deal with people they way they really are, not how you think they 'should' act, or who they claim to be."

He got that stubborn look on his face that said this went against everything school, TV, and movies had taught him. "But it's who you are inside that matters."

"Right," I said, "and being kind and honest are important. But I want you to seriously consider this: Even though some people have more inherent athletic ability than others, no guy is born with a Schwarzenegger body. It takes discipline to eat right and work out every day. It's not easy for anyone. It takes hard work to care about yourself, to make a real commitment to improve in any field, and see it through. Self respect comes after you do something to respect yourself for- not before. It goes for anything: writing, drawing, playing an instrument, coding, schoolwork, or your job. What you're seeing is the end result. If girls are attracted to them, it's because their bodies are showing them who they are on the inside: they're men with those qualities."



Sunday, May 31, 2015

It runs in the family

Harmonizing with my cousin Ally, while my sister Mary searches for the next song with which to rock the mike. Friends, family, and karaoke in the Village.

Saturday, May 30, 2015

Sokath, his eyes uncovered!

Tony's Life Pro Tips: If you're always willing to be the frog, you can't blame the scorpions.


Thursday, May 28, 2015

Clouding the Issue

I like to narrate my sister Mary's facebook rants. It's a hobby.



Wednesday, May 27, 2015

"Shut up! Do what I tell you! I'm not interested!" ...Buy my book!

I'm sorry this place has become such a graveyard, I really am. I write every day, and I get up at a ridiculous time to do it. The thing is, I'm working on the next Debris of Shadows novel, so I don't get out what's in my soul here the way I used to.

I've been playing with twitter a bit more lately, because it's a smaller format. Sometimes that's more challenging, to say something interesting (I hope) in a few sentences. I know some people just use their tweets to link to their blog, which, let's face it, is cheating. Ok, I do that too, on occasion. But I do try to write something of value. Most writers' (and other celebrities') twitter feeds read something like this:

Hey, check out my book.

Hey, my new book is on sale.

Are you an intelligent, well-read person who thinks mainstream movies and books are simple crap? Then buy my book.

You read Fifty Shades of Grey, and you won't read my book? 

Seriously? You know if that guy wasn't rich, it would have been a CSI episode, right?

God, you chicks are so double standard. Just because a woman wrote that...

You know what, my book is too good for you.

That's right, you're not good enough for my book.

...I never really wanted you to read my book anyway...


I wonder what would happen if I tweeted that. Would it be like the IT Crowd episode where Roy takes out a personal ad that reads "No dogs," because women only love bastards? (Hence the title of this post, in case you weren't paying attention.)

Seriously, this highlights the problem with using social media to promote yourself. Yes, I am self promoting, but I try to be as noninvasive as possible. There's a difference between saying "Hey, someone wrote me a nice review!" now and then, and actually pasting links to your stuff on all of your friends' facebook walls. (I knew a guy who actually did this.) Everyone hates advertising, even covertly, even me. Especially me. There are lots of people whose blogs, comics and twitter feeds I love. That doesn't necessarily mean I'm going to buy their book / album / homemade porno. Praise the FSM, I'm above all that.

Anyway, buy my books. Because you're awesome. ;)


Tuesday, May 19, 2015

My twitter highlights from the past few weeks.

Debating some people proves that humans evolved from primates: No matter how logical your arguments, they will still throw poop at you & run.

Starfleet regulation 6398.4: Whenever the captain talks to an attractive woman, all speakers within one meter will play violins. 

Benadryl really needs to say on their box not to use it to slip your kids a mickey? Well that's all kinds of depressing... 

Sure, you can try and make a new Supergirl series - but will it have the A&W logo in every other shot? 

Why can't anyone do a Kickstarter for something useful- like a mouthwash that enables you to drink orange juice after brushing your teeth? 

My Life is such a total lie. Peanut Butter Cap'n Crunch is where the truth is at.

Follow what you love, and the restraining orders will follow.

Future historians will look back on 2015 as The Social Media Threshold: when every twitter user on the planet had followed everyone else. 

Nothing lasts forever. (Literally, it does!) 

The Vatican should market transubstantiated protein powder. They could call it "I am the Whey."

For more words of wisdom, follow @EgotisticalTL . Your brain will thank you.


Sunday, May 17, 2015

Why I shouldn't be left alone

Holmes and I sat by the fireplace, smoking our esoteric pipes, when there was a knock on the door. It was our old friend, Inspector Lestarde.

It was cold for April, and there was a smell of good old fashioned British soot in the air. Lestarde strode over to Holmes, took the pipe from his mouth, toked a long drag, and handed it back.

"Someone has stolen the Queen's mechanical knickers," he said. "Her Majesty has asked personally for your discreet help."

"Mechanical knickers?" I asked, my eyes wide.

"A gift from the King of Siam on her wedding day, complete with a hydraulic corset," said Holmes. He threw the pipe into the fire. "The real question is, why didn't you come to me immediately? Why did you stop and get raspberry muffins first?"

"By Jove, Holmes," I said. "How did you deduce that?"

"Easily," the great detective said. "The inspector has crumbs on his mustache. Only a fool would appear before the Queen in such a state. Therefore, he must have gotten his muffin fix before coming here."

Lestarde rubbed his bare upper lip, his eyebrows furrowed. "But Mr Holmes," he said, "I haven't worn a mustache in over five years."

"Exactly," said Holmes. "You have sat on Her Majesty's request for all that time, knowing it would be too embarrassing for her to ever mention again." He dashed to the window, and yanked it open. "Police," he shouted, "come quickly!"

I heard the thunder of boots as a pair of bobbies dashed up the steps, and into our humble but cosy apartment. They looked about in confusion.

"Arrest this man," said Holmes, pointing at Lestrade. "He is involved in a plot to embarrass Her Majesty."

"Bloody hell," said Lestrade, as the two fine, young lads clasped him by be upper arms,  "I never thought I would be caught."

"What's more," said Holmes, whipping out a knife, "he is wearing the purloined pantaloons as we speak."

With a flourish of steel, he sliced through the inspector's suspenders, revealing a pair of pink, rubber knickers. The detective slashed deftly at the hydraulic girdle. The inspector's enormous belly flopped out, accompanied by a torrent of oil.

"Parade him through the streets," Holmes said, "and make sure no one ever tries such a stunt on our beloved Queen again."

As the two constables marched their grease-covered superior from the room, Holmes picked up his violin, and began to play. "His pot-belly was his downfall, you see," he said, as his fingers danced across its neck. "He should have been watching his weight." 

"Very true," I said, "but how did you ever know he was still wearing them?"

"Elementary, old chap," said the spry detective, his bow sawing faster and faster. "But surely you know that a watched pot never oils!"


Monday, May 11, 2015

Unholy Albino Spider

Heading down to work in my manhole... WAIT- WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT THING???

Thursday, May 07, 2015


I just got home. Right away, my daughter wants me to watch The Count with her. These are videos that are almost four times older than she is, but she thinks I've never seen them before. Oh well, I need to enjoy the time together now. Sooner or later she'll be a teenager, and won't want anything to do with me.

I've been up since two this morning. Lately, I've taken to getting up at 3am so I could have more writing time. I had to leave for work an hour earlier (I had to take the bus today,) so I got my ass up at two. I'm determined to publish book two this year, but goddamn it, it's going to be quality.

Speaking of publishing, I met with a friend and his girlfriend to talk about self publishing. She has a few books planned, and they seem really interesting, a kind of Kill Bill meets Xena character. She said a lot of "publishers" and "agents" were scamming her, trying to get her to pay them to publish her book. I explained that there are a lot of douchebags out there. Traditional publishing only pays you, you pay nothing, and publishing on kindle is 100% free (unless you want to invest in a cover artist, proofreader, etc.) Sometimes I think I should get a publiscist, but I'm going to wait until I have this series completed. She asked if I knew about Doctor Who, since her daughter loves it. I just gave my best Tom Baker laugh... I'm happy helping good people.

I had a nice day. It was a sunny day, but it was my turn down the manhole, so it was just cool enough. As always, we're just trying to get what we can done against impossible odds. That's where the love comes in.

Anyhoo, time to hop in the shower, and wash the shitplant off of me. Wishing happiness.


Wednesday, May 06, 2015


After fifteen years of more or less faithful service, the Jetta is irrevocably dead.

Thank you for all the joyful memories: From the beautiful guardian angels who kept us safe and left their footprints on the windows, to the children who threw up on the floor. From the lady who rearended us entering the Lincoln Tunnel, to the dealer mechanic who managed to break something every time he fixed another. From the Cessna sounding engine, to the cool blue and red dashboard display that looked like the cockpit of a TIE Fighter.

Rest in fahrvergnügen peace.