As Jim continues his summer vacation, we invite you to check out a book project which is in editing. By editing we, of course, mean we are deleting massive amounts of run-on sentences.
Nonetheless, we've begun streaming it on a sister site located at :
ifailedenglishlit.blogspot.com
Jim is also available to present the book, at your convenience, via interpretative dance for a small fee.
In the meantime, below, you will find a much anticipated debut guest submission from a comedy writer and friend to Jim. He resides in our nation's cradle of history; Philadelphia...also known as "The city of brotherly love," and sporting event riots.
Just when I thought we'd found someone who understands deadlines and content principles, it became painfully evident that we've enlisted the services of Jim's long lost brother.
At any rate, try to enjoy the latest (rated R) piece from Pontchartrain Press
Cheers,
Mike, Editor
Via AT & T Text:
Jim: Mike just texted me about your deadline. Many people think that I'm kidding when I say that texts from Mike typically make me cry uncontrollably; I gave him your number so that I might enjoy a small portion of my vacation. Hows the first column draft going? Btw...is it bad that im watching an infomercial about a push up bra AND feeling physically aroused?
Eric: It could be worse. I was just eyeing a German dvd we got at my porn shop called "Sh*t Eating Lesbians." Oh, and a homeless guy just walked in & smelled like an extra from said German film, thus killing my erection.
Jim: I can honestly say that I have never received a text such as the one you just sent. If it's okay with you, I'm just going to pretend that it didn't happen. Now that I think about it, I'm somewhat disturbed that you were aroused by the dvd. On the topic of lesbians...For some reason they hate me...no matter how hard I try to endear myself to them.
Eric: What do you say or do to endear yourself?
Jim: I ask if I can watch...but I always make sure that they know that I will remain at least 5 feet from them at all times. If that doesn't work I simply, and respectfully, do not push the issue. This is the point where I ask "who would you do", Hillary Clinton or Condoleeza Rice?"
Eric: You are smooth talker.
Jim: Thank you.
Eric: For the record, I would "do" Condoleeza...
Jim: The fact that lesbians hate me is troubling...as I'm a big fan of lesbians. Specifically the college student who lives on my block. I must say that I draw the line at doo doo sex play as noted in the pornographic dvd in your video store. I just couldn't do it...unless its with the right person of course. Did George Lucas direct it? I hope so.
Eric: Fear not. There are 2 types of lesbians. Attractive ones who just do it for attention & eventually give up on their experimental lifestyle, and then ones who look like that guy on the Brawny paper towel cover. So, you'll either eventually have your long awaited chance if you patiently bide your time, or it won't matter. Either way, you're a winner.
Jim: Out of curiosity...does your store have a "sexcrement" aisle?
Eric: The Internet, coupled with a struggling economy, has forced us to downsize. As a result, we can't segregate films the way we once did. We now have only 4 sections:
Gay, straight, lesbian & tranny.
The straight section has 3 sub-sections:
Black, white & Asian.
Speaking of lesbians, I'm getting hungry. I think I'll order some sushi.
Jim: Wow! Your store sounds lame. BTW...I was unaware that there were so many sub sections in a porno store. It should come as no surprise that I often wonder what it might be like to spend a day in your shoes. My day is nowhere nearly as interesting as yours. Sadly, I just ate a bowl of Fruit Loops and now I'm watching Judge Mathis...I wonder where my life went wrong?
Eric: I've pin pointed exactly where my life went wrong.
Jim: Do tell...
Eric: A girl I once dated left me for a woman.
Jim: Great...another woman who hates me, I suspect. BTW, how would that be a tipping point where your life went wrong?? She simply made a personal lifestyle choice.
Eric: She ended up hooking up with another of my ex girlfriends.
Jim: I honestly have no words.
Jim: Btw...do u think those bailiffs on the tv court shows are real? What if some serious sh*t breaks out after the verdict is delivered and the two parties pull out guns...What's the TV bailiff gonna do, sign an autograph?
Jim: I'll be honest with you, I want that f**k*ng job.
Jim: Just once, Id like to see some crazy bastard tell Judge Judy to f**k off and then, in a psychotic fit of rage, approach the bench and pull a kitten from their jacket pocket and chop its head off. Then, urinate all over the bench and rip the witness stand microphone from the podium, beating the plaintiff and camera man senseless. I'll bet the ratings would skyrocket.
Eric: If they could just take the guests from Jerry Springer & put them on the court shows, they'd have network gold.
Not only would it make for good tv, it would provide much needed chlorine for the gene pool. If science won't give us zombies, we'll have to thin the herd on our own. A good start would be using reality tv stars in gladiator matches.
Jim: Please God...tell me that we will begin with Snookie, Donald Trump and the Kardashians!
Eric: That's main event type stuff. You have to build up to it with teasers throughout the season. You gotta keep a business sense about you with these sort of things.
Jim: Brilliant! How u are not a network exec is beyond me. As for me, I know why Im not a network exec. A former broadcast program director said that it had something to do with my lack of personal direction, focus and goals. I believe he also said something about me not bringing anything to the table. Of course I also believe that he was recently fired and now works at a grocery store.
Hey...while I'm thinking about it, how in Hell is it ok for a girlfriend to wake you up from a sound, deep sleep, wanting sex, but if I try that, they groan and say they're sleepy and then roll over and begin snoring? One of my female co-workers informs me that women want it on their own terms...My theory is that God hates me.
Eric: My theory is that you don't hit them hard enough to make them sleep longer.
Jim: Isn't that illegal?
Eric: Not in West Virginia. You should consider moving.
Jim: Good point. Btw...Did your sushi ever arrive?
Eric: Surprisingly, yes, and that's the last time I order from that place.
1: When I called, the dingbat who answered the phone says I called the wrong location & gives me another number to call.
2: When I call the other number they told me I called the wrong location & gave me the number for the previous location.
3: When I called back, the original dingbat took my order, then hung up. However, she probably should have gotten my address number etc so it could be delivered.
4: the delivery guy calls me from outside & wants me to meet him at the corner to get my food. I ordered sushi, not cocaine. Quit being shady!
5: It was delicious, so who knows? Maybe I'll give them a 2nd chance.
Jim: Who knew that the Asians had such a wacky sense of humor? You should have told him that he delivered the sushi to the wrong porno store location.
Eric: We only have one location, so that wouldn't work.
Jim: ONE location? Sounds like your company owner is a loser. At any rate, if it were me, I would have just robbed the delivery guy.
Eric: BTW, the sushi restaurant people from where I ordered aren't Asian. In the future, I'm sticking with the authentic places. At least if they mess up I can blame it on the language barrier.
Jim: Aside from a hint of xenophobia, as evidenced in your previous text...What??? Is there some sort of affirmative action policy at sushi restaurants that I'm missing? That's like staffing a taco stand with Pakistanis.
Eric: The northeastern part of the country is diverse. You southern folks need to get with the times. We share water fountains & everything up here.
Jim: Its important to note that I do not stereotype. I, of course, would also never suggest that Pakistanis are not qualified to prepare a delicious taco now that I think about it. However, who would be left to drive the cabs or run convenience stores?
Eric: Up here, Nigerians & Kenyans drive the cabs & run the shops.
Jim: My doc is a hot Asian woman. I have a lot of fun with she and her staff when I visit. She regularly diagnoses me with a character flaw however. I'm not sure how to take that.
Eric: Tell her ya got a bone injury that you'd like her to tend to.
Jim: Oh...now I remember what I texted you about...how's your first guest column coming along?
Eric: I was hoping to bullsh*t my way through it & just use some old stand up material & hope nobody notices that I mailed it in. Speaking of which, I have a show tomorrow in Delaware; home of tax-free shopping & meth.
Jim: Excellent; at least you may purchase meth after the show, tax free...of course you will probably be involved in a drive-by shooting.
Eric: I don't wanna get you in trouble with Mike...just tell him or do whatever you usually do as an excuse for a slightly overdue deadline.
Jim: Will do. I'll have my friend Bob email him and tell him that you've been involved in a car accident and are on life support.
copyright Pontchartrain Press 2012
Editor's Note: Follow Eric's insane ramblings or hook up with him at http://glazedreality.blogspot.com/ By "hook-up" we'll leave the definition to the parameters of your personal comfort level
Sunday, May 20, 2012
Thursday, May 10, 2012
A New day
I'm happy to report that my friend, Eric from Philly, will be submitting his humorous ramblings over the summer as the team of experts from Pontchartrain Press begin streaming a mildly edited group of chapters from a book that I wrote four years ago.
The Prologue is now published at another Blogspot location under a name that was carefully selected by the FBI's witness relocation program...and/or a tarot card reader from New Orleans.
Literally, a team of 6 people, under the influence of alcohol, slaved for hours trying to come up with the perfect name for the website.
After they passed out, I simply took matters into my own hands and, appropriately, titled the site:
ifailedenglishlit.blogspot.com
I did NOT, by the way, fail English Lit...I failed 7th grade. But, THAT was due to an unfortunate incident which involved me being expelled for setting Matt Holder's hair on fire. (This was a positive turning point in my life. I believe my father referred to it as a confirmation of me being adopted.)**
**Note: Matt's mother and father held a different take on the incident, as evidenced by a nasty legal proceeding in a Nashville juvenile court of law.
At any rate, the chapters will be posting in rapid fashion and I'm told that Mike, the editor, will be alerting the loyal readers right here on this blog site.
On a serious note, I hope that you enjoy this book and don't make fun of me...too much.
Xoxxx
ifailedenglishlit.blogspot.com
READ IT NOW...BOOKMARK IT NOW! (if you have time)
The Prologue is now published at another Blogspot location under a name that was carefully selected by the FBI's witness relocation program...and/or a tarot card reader from New Orleans.
Literally, a team of 6 people, under the influence of alcohol, slaved for hours trying to come up with the perfect name for the website.
After they passed out, I simply took matters into my own hands and, appropriately, titled the site:
ifailedenglishlit.blogspot.com
I did NOT, by the way, fail English Lit...I failed 7th grade. But, THAT was due to an unfortunate incident which involved me being expelled for setting Matt Holder's hair on fire. (This was a positive turning point in my life. I believe my father referred to it as a confirmation of me being adopted.)**
**Note: Matt's mother and father held a different take on the incident, as evidenced by a nasty legal proceeding in a Nashville juvenile court of law.
At any rate, the chapters will be posting in rapid fashion and I'm told that Mike, the editor, will be alerting the loyal readers right here on this blog site.
On a serious note, I hope that you enjoy this book and don't make fun of me...too much.
Xoxxx
ifailedenglishlit.blogspot.com
READ IT NOW...BOOKMARK IT NOW! (if you have time)
Monday, April 30, 2012
Summer Vacation!
Jim, thankfully, will be taking the summer off to do things that, we suspect, will include nudity and frozen alcoholic beverages.
With that said, we’re feverishly editing the first book that he wrote approximately 4 years ago.
In the meantime, vignettes of the aforementioned book shall be released to Pontchartrainpress.blogspot.com and at the sheer antagonism of a publisher who has had this wtriting in “queue” for a while. Consider it a sneak peek for those who regularly click in and read his absurd ramblings.
Particularly noteworthy, those who have read and who have worked on this book recently discovered, that the story is based on a suicide letter which was left behind by a close friend to Mr. Patrick about 5 years ago. This, in NO way, is a plot spoiler.
Only Jim, along with Irish whiskey, could find a humorous side to such a plot line.
At its root, the story spotlights three base characters and holds a redemptive factor in its ultimate outcome. While there’s a dark comedy spine throughout, this is a tale of redemption; a simple story of life and love. **
**With a drive-by shooting and sex
Keep in mind that the passages which will be released are loosely edited; especially the passages which were clearly written near the end of bar tabs.
We sincerely hope that you enjoy this story as we feverishly edit the hell out of it.
We equally wish that, with his summer vacation, we don’t have to bail Jim out of a Los Angeles County jail as he is visiting friends.
Collectively, CHEERS!
Mike, the editor
Marie
Todd
Eric
Bob
The other, less important, Eric
Stephanie
Amanda (always on the bottom…by choice)
With that said, we’re feverishly editing the first book that he wrote approximately 4 years ago.
In the meantime, vignettes of the aforementioned book shall be released to Pontchartrainpress.blogspot.com and at the sheer antagonism of a publisher who has had this wtriting in “queue” for a while. Consider it a sneak peek for those who regularly click in and read his absurd ramblings.
Particularly noteworthy, those who have read and who have worked on this book recently discovered, that the story is based on a suicide letter which was left behind by a close friend to Mr. Patrick about 5 years ago. This, in NO way, is a plot spoiler.
Only Jim, along with Irish whiskey, could find a humorous side to such a plot line.
At its root, the story spotlights three base characters and holds a redemptive factor in its ultimate outcome. While there’s a dark comedy spine throughout, this is a tale of redemption; a simple story of life and love. **
**With a drive-by shooting and sex
Keep in mind that the passages which will be released are loosely edited; especially the passages which were clearly written near the end of bar tabs.
We sincerely hope that you enjoy this story as we feverishly edit the hell out of it.
We equally wish that, with his summer vacation, we don’t have to bail Jim out of a Los Angeles County jail as he is visiting friends.
Collectively, CHEERS!
Mike, the editor
Marie
Todd
Eric
Bob
The other, less important, Eric
Stephanie
Amanda (always on the bottom…by choice)
Saturday, April 21, 2012
Birthday Candles Cause Global Warming
~ I’ve found that you find strength in moments of weakness
My birthday is next week, and you know what that means...I still do not fully know the rules and regulations of English League soccer...
or women.
Admittedly, I'm a big fan of any situation that's packed full of passion, roller coaster exhilaration, personal injury, yelling, running back and forth (aimlessly at times) scrambling and blocking with potentiality for an end score of 0-0.
I suppose English League soccer also fits this description.
I don't know about you, but turning a year older is an optimistic event for me personally.
It serves as a stark reminder that I’m barreling at (what seems to be) the speed of light toward dysfunction in the pee pee department. In turn, this will cause my future wife or girlfriend to run away with a car dealership owner who films his own cheesy commercials; incorporating one of his awkward, ugly kids because he thinks that it's cute.
I relish a day when various gastrointestinal ailments, coupled with a neurological disease, renders me unable to properly wipe my ass without the assistance of an apathetic teenage son who’s impregnated two girls and dropped out of school after the 10th grade in order to form a band named:
“Doo Doo Jones & the Transcendental F*ck Sticks.”
What’s not to love about celebrating a day with friends over cake, a fist fight, a few beers, a hooker and thoughts of a future that will likely involve no fewer than four forms of fatal cancer.
Mine is a future which holds the likelihood that all of my internal organs will slowly and painfully ooze from a gaping wound as a direct result of a staph infection; primarily because I’m being housed in an understaffed, sub-standard nursing facility where sexually deviant male nurses routinely beat and/or sexually abuse me. A facility in which my ingrate son imprisoned me right after his band signed a multimillion dollar recording deal.
Birthdays are indeed a happy occasion for me.
I NEVER know how to answer the inevitable question that arises around birthday time…
“So, what do you want for your birthday?”
I usually just tell these people that I’d like a bag of Gummie Worms or a bottle of Irish whiskey…and a Lincoln Navigator.
Yesterday my landlord and friend, Jeff, asked what I want for my birthday. I informed him that I need $1,275.00**
**Note: The precise amount for the rent payment due on Tuesday.
I enjoy celebrating other people's birthdays more than my own.
For instance, last Friday I attended a party being thrown for a lady friend who shares the same birthday week as that of her neighbor, so their mutual friends decided to throw a combined party.
Sharing a birthday celebration with people I don’t even know seems rather awkward to me. It’s like attending a swinger’s club…only with better lighting and less regret.
Incidentally, the birthday girl turned 30 and the bouncing birthday boy…79.
As I surveyed the room, it appeared as though I’d stumbled upon visitation day at a nursing home…with funny hats, cake and adult incontinence.
Each April I’ve utilized this space as a vehicle to share, reminisce, come to grips with and make fun of myself. It's a snapshot of the past 364 days and is unoriginally titled:
“Things I’ve Learned”
Also known as:
“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger…and borderline homicidal.”
Here we go…
1. Crazy people seem to possess amazing talents in that they are incredibly creative…most importantly, they are usually also extremely good in bed.
Of course, you must also accept the bad with the good in that you might eventually find yourself waking to find this person standing over the bed, threatening to beat you to death with a tea kettle unless you can explain why American Idol won't force a re-match between Jordan Sparks and Blake Lewis.
2. No one can tell me what the name “Todd” is short for…not even my friend TODD!
3. I learned how to say a dirty word in French.
4. I’ve officially encountered a self-proclaimed, spontaneous person who takes a different approach to loose schedules:
Sarah: We haven’t done anything spontaneous in a while.
Jim: I love spontaneous…how bout we jump a streetcar downtown in a while and stumble into whatever looks like fun.
Sarah: Sounds good. Oh, while we’re there I need to go to that boutique on Royal. Actually I also need to see my friend at Cosimo’s. Then we can be spontaneous.
Jim: Sure thing.
Sarah: Can we also have late lunch at Mona Lisa? Then maybe we could walk over to CC’s and grab a coffee before going to the French Market…I need sun glasses.
Jim: OK…then can we just play it by ear and see what looks like fun? No schedule, to do list or time frame?
Sarah: Ya, but not for too long; by the time we’re done with the other stuff I need to be heading back so I can watch The Voice.
Jim: Uh, ok.
Sarah: Where are you now?
Jim: I’m on the streetcar heading downtown with Todd.
Sarah: ???? Where you going??
Jim: Don’t know. I’ll call you in a little while.
Sarah: What time?
Jim: At precisely 3:47pm
5. As evidenced by my friend Dave, it IS possible to be friends with an EX…until they find out that you’re dating someone else. (This lesson caused a considerable amount of personal property damage for Dave)
6. Trust me when I tell you that there is NOTHING funnier than witnessing 5 trannys pile into a Ford Festiva.
7. Walking away from an argument is indeed a good and healthy policy…so long as you destroy both cell phones, eliminating text message abilities for either party.
8. I’m still not a role model for children.
9. There is nothing more alarming than discovering that the really hot girl who walks down the sidewalk past your front porch each day is one of the aforementioned trannys.
10. The police department, apparently, frowns upon helpful reminders as to citizen rights where traffic infractions are concerned. It's also unwise to request a partial refund of taxpayer contribution to his salary due to the fact that you feel as though you're being treated discourteously.**
**Note: A-1 Bail/Bond is doing God’s work in New Orleans
11. Under certain circumstances, giving up might just be an accomplishment.
12. It takes 5 drunken guys to change a flat tire.
13. The Surgeon General seems to be correct in the assessment that there is NO safe cigarette.
My friend, Pete, was mugged outside of a convenience store after purchasing a pack of Ultra Lights.
14. “There’s NOTHING good going on at 4am!” This was a regular assertion offered by my mother and father when I was 17-years old. With the assistance of my lady friend, Ashleigh, we blew that theory right out of the water a few months ago. **
**Note: Between the hours of 3am and 5:13am…and again at 8am.
15. Playing “Call of Duty” on X-Box with a 12-year old will make you feel like Forrest Gump. I'll bet that if the kid had 4 shots of Jameson ( as did I) he wouldn't be such a hot shot then! Since WHEN does it take 8-thousand buttons to play a video game?
16. Spending a Sunday afternoon in the park with three kids who act like crack-addicted squirrels is far more entertaining and a breath of fresh air when compared to spending the previous evening with a drunken adult who knows better.
17. A counterfeit excuse letter from the Pope will NOT get you out of criminal court jury duty…and might result in a contempt of court charge.
18. NEVER trust ANYONE who begins a sentence with “I’m not gonna lie.”
19. Craig's List is truly a one stop shopping mecca. In addition to finding a job, one may also find a slightly used weed eater, books, a cat, an automobile and, as evidenced in the following post, unique experiences:
"I'm alone on the couch at 253 South Scott Street. There's a ski mask by the door on the front porch. Put it on, come in and sh*t on me then leave...no questions asked."
What sort of questions would one ask after going to the bathroom on top of another person? Although I have MANY questions for the person who posted this ad, I would have MORE questions for the person who carried out the request. However, I'm not about to visit Scott Street to ask either of them.
And, finally, one to grow (up) on...
20. “Time heals all wounds.” This is a comforting scad of advice that's usually offered by a friend who’s entered a brand-new exciting relationship.
The same friend who, not more than 6-months ago, was curled in the fetal position of the living room, sobbing uncontrollably**
**Note: Not necessarily their OWN living room. In some cases, a demo living room at Rooms To Go
Even though they seem happy now, these same friends are typically one missed Prozac dose away from hunting down and torturing their 2nd grade teacher for failing to properly teach the correct method for writing the upper case letter “Q” in cursive.
The violence spree concludes by beating a family of 3 to death with a George Foreman Grill before taking his/her own life by dousing in fingernail polish remover and jumping into a roaring fireplace.
Well…there it is. Another year has come and gone and I plan to celebrate with a candle-free cake so as not to escalate the effects of Global Warming™ thus angering Al Gore™.
I’m thankful, achy, angry, capricious, somewhat sexually aroused, craving a Crunchy Taco Supreme and, of course, none the wiser. But, it’s been an interesting year.
Whew!
With that, I shall sum it all up with my newly learned fancy French word…MERDE!
 |
| HOW did I not get on the invite list to THIS party??? |
Author's Note: This piece is dedicated to a gentleman by the name of Dick Weisihinkle. I don't know him, but I found his name in the phone book and thought it to be a pretty cool name. Oh, and it's also dedicated to a group of people, with names that are not as high on the "cool factor" scale, who have been working tirelessly editing and promoting a recently completed writing project. I appreciate and love each of these dedicated people...and I sometimes imagine a few of them without clothes.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Happy Anniversary...Hoping For More Than 9-Lives
Pontchartrain the kitty cat turns 2-years old today. Actually She's older than that, but her namesake (Pontchartrain Press) is age 2.
Pontchartrain was an abandoned, scared little kitten that I used to feed outside of the writing office in Mid City New Orleans.
It was time well spent, as she provided an abundance of company and companionship through the course of time that it took to write my first book (which will be coming to this very website in April.)
I appreciated the fact that we both seemed to find ourselves at a challenging time in our respective lives and later felt it appropriate to tattoo her likeness on my inner arm a couple of years ago. Try explaining to the guys WHY a cat is tattooed on your arm...at least there's a cigarette dangling from her mouth.
As a side note, the original co-founder of Pontchartrain Press is an old writing buddy of mine, Dick Rosenthal. He wanted to name the company “Big Dick's Wayward Writing Shack.” I wonder what THAT tattoo would have looked like??
Anyway, little Pontch was later placed in a loving, happy home...or hit by a drunk driver. I can't exactly recall.
On the eve of the anniversary, I sat down with two of my fellow writers, Todd and Marie, to do something that we haven't done together in a long time...remain sober.
Instead, we sat around the kitchen table until sunrise. Using nothing but pen, paper and the largest pile of loaded nachos that I've ever seen, we wrote the following anniversary column.
Because Marie is the most girly girl that you will ever meet...she brought chocolate cupcakes and candles to celebrate.
In case you're wondering, Todd's, and my, record remains soundly in tact in that we were unsuccessful in talking Marie into showing us her breasts.**
**There's always next year
As we blew out the candles on our (dry) cupcakes, Todd and Marie decided that this particular writing project should be a little different.
There would be strict parameters which would specifically challenge our individual writing styles. Something outside of our “norm” if you will.
And so...here's how a random Monday overnight unfolded this week for three dysfunctional writers with a giant trough of nachos, a pan of dry cupcakes, no alcohol and a shared level of disdain for Mike, the editor:
First up, Marie.
Marie is a talented writer who holds a degree in Classic English Literature with an emphasis on the Victorian Era. She also holds an Art history degree (pronounced colossal waste of tuition money.)
Additionally, she possesses an endearing attitude in that she sees the very best in every person and every situation. Sort of like Oprah, only without the financial ability to award a bunch of poor people in a studio audience a new SUV.
Picture Charlotte from Sex and the City or the young, assistant librarian with dark framed glasses, vaguely reminiscent of the one from your senior year of high school. The one who worked late after school organizing the Dewey Decimal System index cards as you surreptitiously ogled from across the room while impatiently serving your 20th after-school detention sentence.
You pretend to be studiously scanning a pile of American history books that lay before you, only you're actually using the books to hide the fact that you're looking at boobie pictures of primitive women who reside in a remote tribe somewhere in central Africa as chronicled by the award winning magazine, National Geographic.
Desire fills a young man's head, imagining a day when the librarian slings her glasses against the pale yellow Formica counter top and rips open her low cut top, finally announcing that she's secretly had a crush on you all year.
She then tips over the 30-foot bookshelf, killing three obnoxious high school football jocks who used to bully you and, finally, makes sweet love to you on top of a pile of scattered books outlining the Underground Railroad and the end of slavery in the United States.**
**American Historical Note: The 13th amendment did not, unfortunately, outlaw inner-city gangs, payday loans or rent to own establishments.
We challenged Marie to use her poetic knowledge to craft a sonnet...only this one must be artistic AND sexual in nature. A literary piece of art as written from the perspective of a kinky backstreet hooker.
I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz or a bottle of Crown Royal:
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire, the type of fire that burns within my loins:
I love you as one loves certain obscure things, such as the precise location of the Reverend Jesse Jackson's church, the secret ingredients in Kentucky Fried Chicken or the natural remedies for genital warts.
I love you secretly, between the shadow, the soul, a third sexual partner for an additional $100.00 and thong underwear.
I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carries the light of a bouquet that I stole from the lobby of a Holiday Inn Express; I relentlessly beat you with them and strangle you with a Versace' belt as though you have stolen something from me.
Mine is a pure love, hidden, within itself. And thanks to your love the not so tight, slightly putrid aroma, with a hint of Mountain Fresh Fabreeze, rises from the earth and lives dimly in my body and lingers for years to come...like herpes.
I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love, thanks to a creepy uncle, habitual drug use and an after-school sexual experience with a high school volleyball coach, Ms. Campbell.
Except in this form in which I am not nor are you,so close that your hand upon my chest implants is mine,so close that your eyes close with my dreams.
Not exactly a sonnet but absolutely beautiful Marie! Bravo!
Next up...ME.
Since it is a foregone conclusion at this table that I, typically, do NOT write anything remotely romantic, poignant or brief, Marie and Todd dropped a wager at my feet challenging me to craft a brief, insightful, socially acceptable personal wish for the upcoming year..
I have to do so in 90-seconds, using only 150 words!!!
What???
Because Todd is mature, the wager was for a shot of Irish whiskey.
Here goes:
I wish what everyone wishes...for Anderson Cooper to finally reveal his sexual orientation.
To never miss an opportunity to live vicariously through the crystal clear panes of my front window, which happens to overlook one of the most beautiful corners in New Orleans.
To never take a compliment for granted; to always appreciate my friends and the encouragement that they often offer.
To say “I'm sorry” more often; to NOT do things which require an apology.
To stop being a damn fool...unless there's money involved.
To judge myself more than others.
To live like there's no tomorrow, appreciate tomorrow when it becomes today...rinse & repeat.
And now I wish for Todd to go to the corner convenience store and then the pub and bring me a pack of Reese's peanut butter cups and that shot of Irish whiskey before his mean wife demands that he come home immediately.
After a round of shots, we finally get to gang up on our old friend, Todd. His is a seemingly simple writing challenge which Marie and I felt appropriate since he and Melissa's 7-year wedding anniversary is coming up next week.
We asked that Todd write a short love letter, no longer than one paragraph, describing everything that he loves about being married to sweet Melissa.
Ready, set...GO!
Pontchartrain was an abandoned, scared little kitten that I used to feed outside of the writing office in Mid City New Orleans.
It was time well spent, as she provided an abundance of company and companionship through the course of time that it took to write my first book (which will be coming to this very website in April.)
I appreciated the fact that we both seemed to find ourselves at a challenging time in our respective lives and later felt it appropriate to tattoo her likeness on my inner arm a couple of years ago. Try explaining to the guys WHY a cat is tattooed on your arm...at least there's a cigarette dangling from her mouth.
As a side note, the original co-founder of Pontchartrain Press is an old writing buddy of mine, Dick Rosenthal. He wanted to name the company “Big Dick's Wayward Writing Shack.” I wonder what THAT tattoo would have looked like??
Anyway, little Pontch was later placed in a loving, happy home...or hit by a drunk driver. I can't exactly recall.
On the eve of the anniversary, I sat down with two of my fellow writers, Todd and Marie, to do something that we haven't done together in a long time...remain sober.
Instead, we sat around the kitchen table until sunrise. Using nothing but pen, paper and the largest pile of loaded nachos that I've ever seen, we wrote the following anniversary column.
Because Marie is the most girly girl that you will ever meet...she brought chocolate cupcakes and candles to celebrate.
In case you're wondering, Todd's, and my, record remains soundly in tact in that we were unsuccessful in talking Marie into showing us her breasts.**
**There's always next year
As we blew out the candles on our (dry) cupcakes, Todd and Marie decided that this particular writing project should be a little different.
There would be strict parameters which would specifically challenge our individual writing styles. Something outside of our “norm” if you will.
And so...here's how a random Monday overnight unfolded this week for three dysfunctional writers with a giant trough of nachos, a pan of dry cupcakes, no alcohol and a shared level of disdain for Mike, the editor:
First up, Marie.
Marie is a talented writer who holds a degree in Classic English Literature with an emphasis on the Victorian Era. She also holds an Art history degree (pronounced colossal waste of tuition money.)
Additionally, she possesses an endearing attitude in that she sees the very best in every person and every situation. Sort of like Oprah, only without the financial ability to award a bunch of poor people in a studio audience a new SUV.
Picture Charlotte from Sex and the City or the young, assistant librarian with dark framed glasses, vaguely reminiscent of the one from your senior year of high school. The one who worked late after school organizing the Dewey Decimal System index cards as you surreptitiously ogled from across the room while impatiently serving your 20th after-school detention sentence.
You pretend to be studiously scanning a pile of American history books that lay before you, only you're actually using the books to hide the fact that you're looking at boobie pictures of primitive women who reside in a remote tribe somewhere in central Africa as chronicled by the award winning magazine, National Geographic.
Desire fills a young man's head, imagining a day when the librarian slings her glasses against the pale yellow Formica counter top and rips open her low cut top, finally announcing that she's secretly had a crush on you all year.
She then tips over the 30-foot bookshelf, killing three obnoxious high school football jocks who used to bully you and, finally, makes sweet love to you on top of a pile of scattered books outlining the Underground Railroad and the end of slavery in the United States.**
**American Historical Note: The 13th amendment did not, unfortunately, outlaw inner-city gangs, payday loans or rent to own establishments.
We challenged Marie to use her poetic knowledge to craft a sonnet...only this one must be artistic AND sexual in nature. A literary piece of art as written from the perspective of a kinky backstreet hooker.
I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz or a bottle of Crown Royal:
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire, the type of fire that burns within my loins:
I love you as one loves certain obscure things, such as the precise location of the Reverend Jesse Jackson's church, the secret ingredients in Kentucky Fried Chicken or the natural remedies for genital warts.
I love you secretly, between the shadow, the soul, a third sexual partner for an additional $100.00 and thong underwear.
I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carries the light of a bouquet that I stole from the lobby of a Holiday Inn Express; I relentlessly beat you with them and strangle you with a Versace' belt as though you have stolen something from me.
Mine is a pure love, hidden, within itself. And thanks to your love the not so tight, slightly putrid aroma, with a hint of Mountain Fresh Fabreeze, rises from the earth and lives dimly in my body and lingers for years to come...like herpes.
I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love, thanks to a creepy uncle, habitual drug use and an after-school sexual experience with a high school volleyball coach, Ms. Campbell.
Except in this form in which I am not nor are you,so close that your hand upon my chest implants is mine,so close that your eyes close with my dreams.
Not exactly a sonnet but absolutely beautiful Marie! Bravo!
Next up...ME.
Since it is a foregone conclusion at this table that I, typically, do NOT write anything remotely romantic, poignant or brief, Marie and Todd dropped a wager at my feet challenging me to craft a brief, insightful, socially acceptable personal wish for the upcoming year..
I have to do so in 90-seconds, using only 150 words!!!
What???
Because Todd is mature, the wager was for a shot of Irish whiskey.
Here goes:
I wish what everyone wishes...for Anderson Cooper to finally reveal his sexual orientation.
To never miss an opportunity to live vicariously through the crystal clear panes of my front window, which happens to overlook one of the most beautiful corners in New Orleans.
To never take a compliment for granted; to always appreciate my friends and the encouragement that they often offer.
To say “I'm sorry” more often; to NOT do things which require an apology.
To stop being a damn fool...unless there's money involved.
To judge myself more than others.
To live like there's no tomorrow, appreciate tomorrow when it becomes today...rinse & repeat.
And now I wish for Todd to go to the corner convenience store and then the pub and bring me a pack of Reese's peanut butter cups and that shot of Irish whiskey before his mean wife demands that he come home immediately.
After a round of shots, we finally get to gang up on our old friend, Todd. His is a seemingly simple writing challenge which Marie and I felt appropriate since he and Melissa's 7-year wedding anniversary is coming up next week.
We asked that Todd write a short love letter, no longer than one paragraph, describing everything that he loves about being married to sweet Melissa.
Ready, set...GO!
 |
| copyright Pontchartrain Press 2012 |
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Welcome To Fantasy Island
This is a little story that Mike, the editor, fears will cost him his 401k investments. I assured him that inept legislation from the United States Congress and election year politics will take care of that long before a questionable writing of mine will.
Our little story centers around a friend of mine who’s recently begun dating a young, sexually adventurous, woman who he met at a neighborhood pub. She's been badgering him nonstop to reveal his deepest sexual fantasies.
Everyone, whether they admit it or not, has some sort of dark sexual fantasy. I also appreciate the fact that many people do not want to reveal them for fear of being judged.
It's important background information to know that my friend is rather conservative when it comes to talking explicitly about sex...much less his FANTASIES!
Since the sex, as he revealed, is incredible, he felt that if he kept stalling, he would lose this woman (and the incredible sex). Since he's a very close friend and co-worker, I offered to assist as a "ghost writer" so that he might finally satisfy her curiosity.
Everyone, whether they admit it or not, has some sort of dark sexual fantasy. I also appreciate the fact that many people do not want to reveal them for fear of being judged.
It's important background information to know that my friend is rather conservative when it comes to talking explicitly about sex...much less his FANTASIES!
Since the sex, as he revealed, is incredible, he felt that if he kept stalling, he would lose this woman (and the incredible sex). Since he's a very close friend and co-worker, I offered to assist as a "ghost writer" so that he might finally satisfy her curiosity.
From: Thomasnolaguy@yahoo.com
Well…I’m not very good at vividly describing my sexual fantasies because I’m not a writer. I know what I like but I’m afraid that, after revealing my fantasy, you might find me to be boring.
Don't get me wrong, I'm adventurous but I feel that I'm tame compared to most other people. But, here goes.
FIRST, I kill your cat and then throw you down on the bed and rip your clothes off with a box cutter. Then I tie your arms and legs to the bedposts and force you to watch The People’s Court while I paint your toenails.
While we’re waiting for your nails to dry, I go to the kitchen and prepare a box of Kraft Mac n Cheese.
As we wait for the pasta to boil, you finally notice that my next door neighbor is bound and gagged in the corner with his dog. (I’ve also tied up the dog.)
Finally, the macaroni comes to a boil…only I don’t add the cheese. Instead, I drain it and dump the scalding pasta down the front of my neighbor’s pants and kick his dog in the nuts.
He screams in agony through the ball gag as the radio blares Michael Buble’s “I just haven’t met you yet” in the background.
He screams in agony through the ball gag as the radio blares Michael Buble’s “I just haven’t met you yet” in the background.
Then, I trace every inch of your body with my lips; your mind reels. Your physical senses drown deeply into unadulterated ecstasy.
Even though my neighbor has passed out from clinical shock, you experience an immeasurable level of physical pleasure…and disgust.
My neighbor finally comes to and wonders if he might be an unwitting participant in a “snuff” film. I calm him down by assuring him that I do not own a video camera.
FINALLY, we make sweet and slightly violent love.
You try to kiss me, only you can’t. Primarily because I’ve stuffed a swifter dust mop replacement pad into your mouth.
Just as the dog and my neighbor begin to shit themselves, you succumb to sensory overload and begin to scream and writhe with mind blowing pleasure as I belt out a tune from Fiddler On The Roof.
We mutually reach our peak, releasing pure, sexual energy in an earth shattering burst.
As our bodies explode in the spotlight of raw, primal delight, I spray you in the face with Lemon Fresh Windex and then roll over and watch Sports Center.
Whew! Who ELSE needs a cigarette???
My buddy is no longer dating this woman and I feel that it's a direct result of him not opening up to her. And, perhaps, for not sending the fantasy that I wrote on his behalf.
And, so, he's on the market again.
By the way, before anyone judges me for writing the above email, please know that it's NOT a personal fantasy of mine. I would NEVER waste a Swifter replacement mop head.
copyright Pontchartrain Press 2012
My buddy is no longer dating this woman and I feel that it's a direct result of him not opening up to her. And, perhaps, for not sending the fantasy that I wrote on his behalf.
And, so, he's on the market again.
By the way, before anyone judges me for writing the above email, please know that it's NOT a personal fantasy of mine. I would NEVER waste a Swifter replacement mop head.
copyright Pontchartrain Press 2012
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Meeting Of The Mindless
I’ve never been a big fan of meetings. I understand the necessity for meetings under certain, urgent circumstances.
Example:
Receptionist: Doctor Taylor's office
Seth: Um, yeah, this is Seth Franklin. I'm calling about my test results from Tuesday.
Receptionist: Oh, I see...yeah, Doctor Taylor wants you to come in immediately to chat about them in person.
Seth: What??
In the professional world, I've found that most meetings simply spiral out of control into a gripe session/waste of time…much like Fox News’ Sean Hannity program.
Mike, the editor, LOVES meetings!
On a recent afternoon while I was doing important research into the reasons as to why NO ONE in my house seems to know how to fill an ice tray, Mike decided to call a meeting with our freelance writing group.
My friend, Todd, is in this group and shares my frustration with meetings. He and I hold efficient writer meetings all the time. This is to say that we discuss our notes for 5-minutes and spend the rest of the evening in the pub before Todd goes home to his angry wife, Melissa.
Behold…the power of the meeting:
To: Amanda, Todd, Marie and Jim
From: Mike Klein, Editor
Date: February 28th 2012
Re: Reminders
It’s been a while since we’ve gone over some important housekeeping items, as evidenced by some of the writing that has been submitted recently.
Everyone, with the exception of Jim and Todd, has worked very well at meeting story treatment deadlines; especially Marie.
Deadlines are due on the first Tuesday of each month…NO exceptions!
It takes a considerable amount of time to edit and pitch your stories so you’re only hurting your writing integrity.
By the way Todd, I still haven’t seen a treatment for the Civil War Society magazine…it’s been 2-months!!!
Let’s all do an online conference at 2pm today and we can chat about these reminders.
Thanks,
Mike
And so, here’s what I like to call “40-minutes of my life that I will never get back.”
Mike: This won’t take long; I just wanted us to go over some things collectively as a group. Any concerns to throw on the table before we begin?
Jim: Collectively and group mean the same thing. Are you sure that you’re an editor? Xo
Mike: Very funny. Hey Todd, what’s the timeline with the Civil War draft?
Todd: The draft for that war ended in 1864 I believe.
Jim: HahahahaHA!
Mike: You fully know what I mean Todd.
Todd: I thought I was fired.
Jim: I’ve tried that excuse before Todd…it doesn’t work.
Marie: I have a 3pm appointment so I may have to log off early. BTW, I just emailed my latest drafts to you Mike. I’m way early this month!
Jim: Ass kisser.
Mike: Thanks Marie. From now on I’m going to need something in writing 2-weeks in advance asking for an extension and explaining why a deadline is going to be missed.
Jim: What if one is suffering from a bout of writer’s block so severe that writing a note informing that a deadline will be missed is impossible?
Mike: I think you can bang out a paragraph of explanation…even with writer’s block.
Jim: I’m not so sure. Actually I sometimes suffer so badly that my private part doesn’t even work properly…which really annoys my lady friend.
Mike: Any more excuses?
Jim: What if I find myself in the unfortunate situation of going to the bank to make a deposit and I'm involved in a hostage situation, which happens to occur at noon on the first Tuesday of the month? Does this waive the deadline request?
Amanda: Do I really need to be on this chat session?
Mike: Yes Amanda.
Todd: I’ve actually been working on that Civil War piece you asked about. The lead character has detached from his military unit (the first African American Unit.)
He goes on a personal mission to make sure the son of a plantation owner is brought to justice after a racially-motivated murder.
Anyway, it’s sort of a combination of Glory, Roots and Shaft. I wanted to incorporate “Red Tails” but there were, of course, no airplanes in the Civil War.
Mike: Please tell me that you aren’t serious.
Jim: It’s better than incorporating the movie “Booty Call.” Bravo Todd!
Marie: What if we introduce some sort of incentive system for writers who meet or beat the deadlines? That might fix the problem. Just a thought.
Jim: I bet you were the hall monitor in school, weren’t you?
Amanda: Seriously, do I need to be on this conference?
Mike: That’s an excellent suggestion Marie. Maybe we can offer a restaurant gift certificate or basketball tickets? Any other incentive prize suggestions?
Jim: A stripper cookout and a bottle of vodka. We can do the party at Amanda’s place.
Mike: Can you contribute a serious statement to the meeting?
Jim: Amanda has an awesome pool…seriously.
Amanda: After the last pool party, you and Todd are still banned from the pool.
Marie: Ha! What happened?
Todd: I honestly thought cats could freakin’ swim!
Jim: How is little Pook the cat doing anyway Amanda?
Mike: Uh, guys, I’m trying to host a meeting here.
Amanda: How’s your love life doing Jim?
Todd: HAHAHAHA! Now THAT’S cold!
Marie: LOL!
Jim: Laugh it up. You know, Amanda, they say that lobbing sarcastic comments in the workplace is a form of sexual tension.
Amanda: Ha! Really now?
Jim: I can come by later tonight if you want to discuss your feelings more in depth. Since I’m not suffering from writer’s block this week, my equipment is working at full capacity.
Marie: HAHA! Don’t do it Amanda. LOL!
Mike: Ok kids…back to the meeting. Listen, bottom line is: I need for you to pay attention to formatting, deadlines, word counts and especially PUNCTUATION. Any questions?
Marie: Nope
Todd: Got it.
Amanda: No questions here.
Jim: .....",,::;,…":;?&,.{ !!
Todd: I get it!! Jim just did punctuation humor. Brilliant!
Marie: You two are unbearable sometimes.
Mike: Look, you all do very amazing work but I need for you to pay attention to details. By the way, Jim, while I have you online, do you have your next draft ready and formatted?
Jim: You included an unnecessary modifier in front of the word “amazing.”
Amanda: Word snob.
Jim: I DO have my latest draft ready. I took liberties to write it in Japanese this time. An abstract, artistic style so to speak.
Mike: Well…that certainly peaks my curiosity. Would you like to share a sample with the group?
Jim: “Me love you long time…uh, suckie suckie?”
Todd: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Jim: Oh NOOOOOOO!!! Godzirra!!!!
Marie: User has logged off
Amanda: User has logged off
Mike: Ummm…is anyone still here?
Todd: I'm here
Jim: マイクは吸います
copyright Pontchartrain Press 2012
Example:
Receptionist: Doctor Taylor's office
Seth: Um, yeah, this is Seth Franklin. I'm calling about my test results from Tuesday.
Receptionist: Oh, I see...yeah, Doctor Taylor wants you to come in immediately to chat about them in person.
Seth: What??
In the professional world, I've found that most meetings simply spiral out of control into a gripe session/waste of time…much like Fox News’ Sean Hannity program.
Mike, the editor, LOVES meetings!
On a recent afternoon while I was doing important research into the reasons as to why NO ONE in my house seems to know how to fill an ice tray, Mike decided to call a meeting with our freelance writing group.
My friend, Todd, is in this group and shares my frustration with meetings. He and I hold efficient writer meetings all the time. This is to say that we discuss our notes for 5-minutes and spend the rest of the evening in the pub before Todd goes home to his angry wife, Melissa.
Behold…the power of the meeting:
To: Amanda, Todd, Marie and Jim
From: Mike Klein, Editor
Date: February 28th 2012
Re: Reminders
It’s been a while since we’ve gone over some important housekeeping items, as evidenced by some of the writing that has been submitted recently.
Everyone, with the exception of Jim and Todd, has worked very well at meeting story treatment deadlines; especially Marie.
Deadlines are due on the first Tuesday of each month…NO exceptions!
It takes a considerable amount of time to edit and pitch your stories so you’re only hurting your writing integrity.
By the way Todd, I still haven’t seen a treatment for the Civil War Society magazine…it’s been 2-months!!!
Let’s all do an online conference at 2pm today and we can chat about these reminders.
Thanks,
Mike
And so, here’s what I like to call “40-minutes of my life that I will never get back.”
Mike: This won’t take long; I just wanted us to go over some things collectively as a group. Any concerns to throw on the table before we begin?
Jim: Collectively and group mean the same thing. Are you sure that you’re an editor? Xo
Mike: Very funny. Hey Todd, what’s the timeline with the Civil War draft?
Todd: The draft for that war ended in 1864 I believe.
Jim: HahahahaHA!
Mike: You fully know what I mean Todd.
Todd: I thought I was fired.
Jim: I’ve tried that excuse before Todd…it doesn’t work.
Marie: I have a 3pm appointment so I may have to log off early. BTW, I just emailed my latest drafts to you Mike. I’m way early this month!
Jim: Ass kisser.
Mike: Thanks Marie. From now on I’m going to need something in writing 2-weeks in advance asking for an extension and explaining why a deadline is going to be missed.
Jim: What if one is suffering from a bout of writer’s block so severe that writing a note informing that a deadline will be missed is impossible?
Mike: I think you can bang out a paragraph of explanation…even with writer’s block.
Jim: I’m not so sure. Actually I sometimes suffer so badly that my private part doesn’t even work properly…which really annoys my lady friend.
Mike: Any more excuses?
Jim: What if I find myself in the unfortunate situation of going to the bank to make a deposit and I'm involved in a hostage situation, which happens to occur at noon on the first Tuesday of the month? Does this waive the deadline request?
Amanda: Do I really need to be on this chat session?
Mike: Yes Amanda.
Todd: I’ve actually been working on that Civil War piece you asked about. The lead character has detached from his military unit (the first African American Unit.)
He goes on a personal mission to make sure the son of a plantation owner is brought to justice after a racially-motivated murder.
Anyway, it’s sort of a combination of Glory, Roots and Shaft. I wanted to incorporate “Red Tails” but there were, of course, no airplanes in the Civil War.
Mike: Please tell me that you aren’t serious.
Jim: It’s better than incorporating the movie “Booty Call.” Bravo Todd!
Marie: What if we introduce some sort of incentive system for writers who meet or beat the deadlines? That might fix the problem. Just a thought.
Jim: I bet you were the hall monitor in school, weren’t you?
Amanda: Seriously, do I need to be on this conference?
Mike: That’s an excellent suggestion Marie. Maybe we can offer a restaurant gift certificate or basketball tickets? Any other incentive prize suggestions?
Jim: A stripper cookout and a bottle of vodka. We can do the party at Amanda’s place.
Mike: Can you contribute a serious statement to the meeting?
Jim: Amanda has an awesome pool…seriously.
Amanda: After the last pool party, you and Todd are still banned from the pool.
Marie: Ha! What happened?
Todd: I honestly thought cats could freakin’ swim!
Jim: How is little Pook the cat doing anyway Amanda?
Mike: Uh, guys, I’m trying to host a meeting here.
Amanda: How’s your love life doing Jim?
Todd: HAHAHAHA! Now THAT’S cold!
Marie: LOL!
Jim: Laugh it up. You know, Amanda, they say that lobbing sarcastic comments in the workplace is a form of sexual tension.
Amanda: Ha! Really now?
Jim: I can come by later tonight if you want to discuss your feelings more in depth. Since I’m not suffering from writer’s block this week, my equipment is working at full capacity.
Marie: HAHA! Don’t do it Amanda. LOL!
Mike: Ok kids…back to the meeting. Listen, bottom line is: I need for you to pay attention to formatting, deadlines, word counts and especially PUNCTUATION. Any questions?
Marie: Nope
Todd: Got it.
Amanda: No questions here.
Jim: .....",,::;,…":;?&,.{ !!
Todd: I get it!! Jim just did punctuation humor. Brilliant!
Marie: You two are unbearable sometimes.
Mike: Look, you all do very amazing work but I need for you to pay attention to details. By the way, Jim, while I have you online, do you have your next draft ready and formatted?
Jim: You included an unnecessary modifier in front of the word “amazing.”
Amanda: Word snob.
Jim: I DO have my latest draft ready. I took liberties to write it in Japanese this time. An abstract, artistic style so to speak.
Mike: Well…that certainly peaks my curiosity. Would you like to share a sample with the group?
Jim: “Me love you long time…uh, suckie suckie?”
Todd: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Jim: Oh NOOOOOOO!!! Godzirra!!!!
Marie: User has logged off
Amanda: User has logged off
Mike: Ummm…is anyone still here?
Todd: I'm here
Jim: マイクは吸います
copyright Pontchartrain Press 2012
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