never passing this way again

CR2: Book 28 Bizarre Diseases of the Mind by Richard Noll

2010-07-08T14:55:00.000-07:00

Real life cases of rare mental illnesses? Yes, please.

Richard Noll, a clinical psychologist, has completely creeped me out. The case histories of the extremely delusional people he writes about are horrifying and I may not sleep ever again. While true that these stories follow a relatively easy-to-read narrative, the disorders themselves are nightmarish.
Sick people with exotic conditions (Erotomania, possession, multiple personality disorders, Lycanthrophy, even necrophilia) do not make for good bedtime reading, but I had a difficult time putting this down. Noll uses several clinical research reports found in professional journals and the fact that these people actually inhabit the world I live in is a scary thought indeed.

The first couple of chapters weren't too frightening. Multiple Personality Disorder and Amnesia are the concepts of bad soap opera storylines. But, then he hits with Possession. Stories of priests trying to exorcise demons from children? Roman Catholics are not afraid to get their hands dirty, believe you me.
And the "insanity is contagious"-ness of mass delusions? Don't get me started. Entire congregations of people who gather at points in time to celebrate the end of the world are one thing. But this disorder is turned on its head when you consider that people who are institutionalized together "more often than not" start sharing their conditions.

There is also a fascinating chapter on Erotomania that begins with John Hinkley's letter to Jodie Foster. It's strange to know that he had spoken to her on the phone a couple of times. What could she have said to make him think she wanted him to kill President Reagan? And the way he goes about trying to convince her he loves her is unnerving, knowing what we now know of how that turned out.

And then, Noll decides to utterly freak me out with his discourse on somnabulistic homicide. I now have to worry that I will either kill in my sleep or be killed by a sleep-walker.

If you are looking for a good read on Satanism, idiot savants, people with stigmata, real life vampirism, you could do a lot worse. I shuddered every other page.

CR2: Book 27 Thieves' World edited by Robert Aspirin

2010-07-01T19:15:00.001-07:00

Why do I keep picking these weird books with multiple authors?

Having never read anything from the Sanctuary series, Henry thought Thieves' World would be a good place for me to start.
It is a collection of eight stories, each by a different author, who agreed going in that they would all write about this land of Sanctuary, but that details didn't necessarily have to match up. I was warned from page 1 that I may notice some inconsistencies, which I really didn't, as all of the stories are verbose to the point of being distracting.
It's a problem a lot of fantasy has- the forced made-up caste systems, the magical to-and-fro, the lack of connection with not only the events going down, but with the characters themselves. Add to that, the freedom to ignore important constants (be they from the authors not maintaining any communication with each other while writing such a history, or worse, from the paranoid characters themselves changing facts and perceptions) and suddenly, I feel like I'm scanning the story, rather than ingesting it.

I'm sure I zoned out more than once.

But there IS some good storytelling here, despite the too-wordy dialogue and complete wash of plot. It just took me longer than usual to appreciate it, and a shorter time than that to forget what made it interesting. For every story I think I liked, there were two others that made me wish I had never heard of Thieves' World.

My advice? Sentences of Death by John Brunner and The Price of Doing Business by Robert Aspirin are the best of the bunch. Skip Blood Brothers by Joe Haldeman and Myrtis by Christine DeWees altogether (they do nothing but infuriate your logical thinkings). The Gate of the Flying Knives by Poul Anderson *could have been* great, but lost its momentum.

No more Sanctuary for me.

CR2: Book 26 Brush Up Your Mythology! by Michael Macrone

2010-06-24T12:30:00.000-07:00

I picked this up heading to a friend's house to read while Henry played Rock Band, which is a ridiculous game.

I have to admit that while I know lots of Greek and Roman myths, I never really thought much about them. This book was completely easy-to-read and engaging. It is organized by sections covering both major and minor deities, stories of mortal heroes and the creatures they fought and awesomely enough, fun little lessons on the history behind words and objects we use everyday.

While I guess I realized that the Greeks and Romans "shared" some gods, this book opened my thinking up a bit as to how it all came about. The Greeks recounted elaborate allegories to explain the existence of the world around them. These stories weren't meant to be scientifically accurate, but entertaining.
When Homer (the Iliad and the Odyssey) and Hesiod (the Theogony) wrote these myths down in the eighth century, the stories took on new life and were given more structure than previous oral incarnations.
The Romans had a different view of the gods. To them, mythology was less anthropomorphic and the gods had no clear relationship with each other. When the Greeks and the Romans started trading with each other (or warring), Roman myths started taking on more and more human characteristics. Roman poets added details and back-stories, stealing here, embellishing there and adding their own names to the players. Virgil and Ovid popularized these Roman influences.
And the myths picked up popularity during the Renaissance. Egyptian and Asian splashes were becoming more commonplace also.

There are WAY too many myths to start recounting in a simple book review, but I have to reiterate that this was fascinating, and will be my new go-to when I need to do a little research while watching , say, Clash of the Titans.

CR2: Book 25 The Hound of the Baskervilles by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

2010-05-06T15:32:00.000-07:00

I read this (somewhat, occassionally) boring Sherlock Holmes story with the full intent of casting the inevitable movie sequel.

One morning, John Watson (Jude Law) wakes to find his "flat-mate" Sherlock Holmes (Robert Downey Jr.) sitting at the breakfast table examing a walking stick. It had been left by someone who had called on them the evening before (while our heroes had been out clubbing) and Holmes deducts it's the cane of one Dr. James Mortimer. Watson looks it over and adds that Dr. Morimer (played with rich subtleties by awesome character actor and sometimes Pajiba commenter, Brian Jensen) is most likely a country doctor who does much travelling on foot. Holmes complements him on his detective work, which pleases Watson with much pleasant pleasure. Soon, Mortimer calls again and talks to Holmes about a curse placed on a family in his village and pleads for help.
Way long ago, a man named Hugo Baskerville and some buddies kidnapped a farmer's daughter while her family was away. They tied her up and went to have a few drinks before returning, finding she had escaped. Baskerville called his hunting dogs down on the girl, but they were both later found dead. A gigantic black dog was seen eating his face.

Dr. Mortimer went on, telling how Sir Charles Baskerville had just passed. He was a good man, and his death had really saddened the local populace. He had been found by his butler out in the gardens, no sign of foul play, and the cause of death was attributed to heart disease. Thing is, Sir Charles had recently started taking the legend of his family's curse a little more seriously and refused to go out onto the moors at night.
Mortimer claimed to have once seen the great dog when visiting Baskerville Hall one evening. He also eluded to less-public details of the death, including footprints he found on the night of Sir Charles' death: footprints of a very, very large animal.

So, Holmes and Watson are on the case. They meet with Sir Henry (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), Sir Charles' only living relative, recently arrived from Canada. There are a few (not quite) bewildering mcguffins: missing boots, an escaped killer from Notting Hill (Hugh Grant), sounds of women crying in the night... The locals are totally freaked out.

But do they really need to be? Are they safe? Is the legendary Hound back and after more than just Baskerville blood? Or is it just a herring, set loose to distract from another plot altogether?

I wasn't the biggest fan of this story, but I won't belittle its importance to the Holmes mythology. He does some mad detecting, and is seemingly undeterred in the face of a supernatural beast. And he even gets to play his violin for all the fan-boys to squee over!
Yet, maybe, MAYBE, with a few more gut-punches and/or explosions, this might have been a more thrilling ride.

CR2: Book 24 The Second Greatest Story Ever Told by Gorman Bechard

2010-04-14T20:12:00.000-07:00

"For God did not send His Daughter into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Her might be saved." Updated John 3:17 (The Next Testament)

Ilona Ann Coggswater is the daughter of God, and Jesus' little sister. She is (immaculately conceived) and born in Cooperstown, NY in 1970 and the doctor who delivered her writes a tell-all. In fact, most everyone she meets writes a tell-all. Ilona's easy celebrity tends to upset society as we know it. She likes Elvis Costello and the Replacements and Patti Smith, and because of this, these artists dominate the charts.

When Ilona reveals herself as God's Daughter in the late 1980's, she of course isn't welcomed by all.
Liberals love her and her breezy ways, but the NRA and the Pro-Lifers conspire against her.

She meets with the Pope and corrects centuries of Catholic policy on, well, everything: divorce, homosexuality, birth control... a forty page transcript of the meeting is sent out to every diocese. Women are permitted to be ordained.

Ilona goes on David Letterman with her model/bartender roommate Stephanie, and tries to explain to the world that we all just need a little more kindness. "Be Kind" is her message to the world.
She signs an endorsment deal with Tab (the diet cola, which she can TRANSFORM water into) and donates the proceeds to Greenpeace and Planned Parenthood.
She's very sexy, but in a non-stuck-up way.

This was a quick read, and I can see how 20 years ago, it might have seemed wittier than it really is. There are some interesting gender-bends going on, but it just felt too... liberal, I guess is the word I want to use. Don't get me wrong, I would love if she were my Savior, but her targets are predictable and tired.

Maybe if I had read it on a beach...

CR2: Book 23 Get Your Tongue Out Of My Mouth, I'm Kissing You Goodbye by Cynthia Heimel

2010-04-12T19:46:00.000-07:00

Ah, the feminist rant. How humorous you are. (Seriously, this book adds to the growing proof.)

I was drawn to this book by the pop-art cover picture, but soon found Cynthia Heimel's scathingness more than a little somewhat subversive. A little background search on the author led me to believe she wrote "for decades" a column in Playboy. Her "Women" column was finally cancelled in 2000 when the publishers were concerned her feminist attitudes were off-putting to male readers.

This book is a collection of her essays and column-fodders, including chapter bookends, Q&A-style, where she answers questions and passes along advice under the moniker "the Problem Lady".

It starts with a seemingly-unawkward forward written by her son (who appears in several stories and seems to be rather well-adjusted for the child of a single mother who writes feminist articles for Playboy). The articles themselves are often funny, sometimes sad, reflections on such topics as Why Lesbians Have It So Good, Why Some Moms Are So Bad, and How the Battle of the Sexes Turns So Ugly.

Granted, I didn't need to know about her first IUD or her uterine infections (what the hell are those?!), but with each section down, I began to realize more of her Big Picture, and really started to like her. Halfway through, I started to understand why her son was the way he was (you see a lot of his early childhood) and how great a mom she really must have been.

Written in 1993, some of the topics feel a little dated. Heimel was a flower child and her personal style (she often describes clothes as if they were extensions of her personality) reflects that aesthetic. She also rails against ANSWERING MACHINES.

Even though the points she makes are often given over to wishy-washiness, she does have a keen eye on things developing around her (her feelings monitored so closely, she may as well be hooked to electrodes). She doesn't dislike the Male, but she doesn't fully trust them either. And trusts herself around them even less.
In her defense (as a male reading this book) she doesn't BLAME men, but rather Nature. Nature, she says, is no feminist.
Mother Nature must be a tranny.

CR2: Book 22 Disco Bloodbath: A Fabulous But True Tale of Murder in Clubland by James St. James

2010-04-07T17:49:00.001-07:00

"Reality can be a rather free-floating concept when there are three drug dealers staying in your apartment who owe you rent."

I saw Party Monster once. Just the once. Unlike the rest of the subversive-minded people I associate with, once was more than enough. Trust me on this: drag queen antics and junkie wackiness are amusing only in anecdotes (which is good, because that's all this book is, really) and though I adore most of the soundtrack to that movie, the movie itself is a bit of a downer (much like Hedwig...)...

I didn't intend on reviewing Disco Bloodbath, the novel on which Party Monster was based. I intended to read just the 1st few lines. But those few lines drew me in. If you've read the book, you'll understand the joke I'm making: the first few pages of this story are a detailed step-by-step in preparing Special K, the author's drug of choice.

Plus, James St. James was Horribly Miscast and I read This Entire Book in Seth-Green Fluttery Speech Pattern #4.

So yes, there was a murder. But this book is less about that, and more about how St. James processes it all.
As a "true crime" story, the actual crime is rather downplayed. It's like when Naomi Campbell heard Gianni Versace was murdered and was rumored to have said, "This is a terrible thing to have happened- To Me."
Having watched these Same People on Geraldo and Phil Donahue and Sally Jesse, I enjoyed this story, rambling and chaotic and fan-fucking-tabulous as it was. It felt much more honest than the parade of freaks I remembered on TV from when I was in high school.

Michael Alig and James St. James meet in the late 1980's, at the end of an era and the beginning of the Next Big Scene. They insinuate themselves into New York nightlife heirarchy, rubbing noses with revelers such as Michael Musto and Lady Miss Keir and (hopefully) Diane Brill. They spend hours upon hours making shocking outfits, shoving drugs into said noses and being crazy and rude and happy-go-lucky and maybe getting their picture in the Village Voice.
They will live forever. They will learn how to fly.

And so, the book details countless hilarious things that happen, countless off-the-cuff remarks and made-up-words, countless adventures with heroin or cocaine or K or whatever.
We learn about Mavis, a rather boring lesbian who takes her entire savings and tries to become the Next Great Drug Dealer. And Freeze, a lost soul who could have been a scholar, if not for the drugs (more on him in a moment). And Angel, with his dirty white wings, who may have been in this country illegally, but without whose murder this story might not be told. He was the "worst kind of drug dealer", the kind who Actually Wanted Payment for his drugs.

There is a fight between Michael and Angel, each one thinking the other owes for something. And Angel is dismembered in the bathtub. And Freeze walks in, to Michael's aid. And Angel is lying on the floor with his head split open. And there is much Mary-ism and name-calling. And Freeze takes a hammer and smashes Angel in the head with it. For some reason, they inject Draino into Angel's dying body. And someone named Daniel is asleep. And Angel is angry with Michael for ripping him off. (Yes, all that was out-of-sequence and muddled, because, well, that was how that night went down.)

To hear Michael Alig tell the story, which he considers just another anecdote, it's easy to understand how all the details get twisted. Or forgotten. Or changed-for-the-sake-of-a-good-story. This is the same person who called in a bomb threat to an airport so that he could sleep 10 more minutes and not miss a flight.

But this is about James St. James telling of how Alig told the story. After a history of jealousy and one-uppance between the two, I'm still not sure the entire picture was painted. In fact, I know it wasn't.
It's a quick and thrilling read, at times (just) a little over-the-top.
This review probably doesn't do it justice, but neither did the movie. The movie was about shocking you IN YOUR FACE with glamour and money and drugs and blood. The book is more of a shock to your brain.

CR2: Book 21 From the Mixed-up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler by E.L. Konigsburg

2010-03-30T18:32:00.000-07:00

After the weight of Weaveworld, I chose this book for two reasons.
One, the cover picture, with its high arched ceiling and tight dark walls: a museum At Night and two children In Pajamas, obviously hiding a secret: fingers pressed to lips and arms locked in defiance. Also, the Newberry Award Medal Winner logo.
And two, it was much shorter. I'm guessing it was written for the tween set, but being 1st published in the late 1960s, my attention was grabbed.

The POV was annoying for only the first few pages but then I accepted it and the rest of the book went down easier. The story is told by an elderly woman who is writing it to her lawyer, whom she's fickle about. She tends to interject old-womanly insights right in the middle of all the action.

Claudia Kincaid is bored of her life in the suburbs. And she feels that having to set the table AND clearing it is a great injustice. She is also upset that her allowance is smaller than her classmates and well, lots of other things. So she decides to run away from home.

Jamie Kincaid is the middle of her three younger brothers and has just been talked into running away with his sister. She is using him for his money (as a 9-year-old, the kid is a cheating gambler AND a miser) and Jamie knows this.

Packing clean underwear in their musical instrument cases, they hide out on the school bus until they can escape and catch a train into New York City, where Claudia wants to hide out in the Metropolitan Museum of Art (as it is winter and they can't very well hang out in Central Park).
Jamie jingles, his pockets weighted down with almost 25 dollars worth of nickels.

Had this story pandered to its readers, I would have stopped early on, but it played out rather cleverly. The museum is large enough to get lost in and the children scatter their belongings, hiding things in a sarcophagus or behind heavy curtains. They sleep in gigantic beds from the 16th century. They bathe at night in a nearby fountain, which is freezing cold but also full of coins people have wished on.

And after a couple of days, they stumble onto a very real mystery. The museum has acquired a statue for only $225...and it may be an early Michaelangelo. It was originally brought to this country from Italy by a certain Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler (whom it turnes out, is writing this story to her lawyer, Saxonberg), a pleasant old biddy with 17 file cabinets full of unsorted contracts.

The two Kincaid children leave home as bickering siblings, but along the way, they start to form a real team. The mystery of this statue may or may not be solved, but together with her brother, Claudia finds a resolve to her boredom, a reason to go home.
And I wasn't put off in the least.

CR2: Book 20 Weaveworld by Clive Barker

2010-03-27T17:33:00.000-07:00

"Nothing ever begins."

Calhoun Mooney has inadvertently allowed one of his family's prize-winning racing pigeons to escape its loft. Even though his father, the recently-widowed Brendan Mooney, has started to neglect the birds, Cal takes off to track it through the city. The pigeons had been a passion of his mother's, and this particular cock, named 33, had won a championship only a year before.

On foot, Cal almost catches the pigeon several times, only to lose it again as 33 heads for an area already teeming with birds, wheeling through the air in an odd display, obviously feeding. When Cal gets closer, he joins a crowd of people watching the spectacle. It's not a gnat-feast. It's not an ant buffet. It is simply and unexpectedly thousands of birds, of various species, swarming the air like a cyclone.

Wait. That's the start of the story, but not the beginning...

Shadwell is a charlatan, and the lowest common denominator of sleazy and greedy. He has a thousand different smiles and none of them are pleasant. Lying on a huge bed, he watches Immacolata at the hotel window, the jacket she had given him with its hypnotic lining thrown over a chair. Her sisters, the eyes-sewn-shut-since-birth Magdelene and the Hag are only flickers of shadows in the corners of the room. The bird-tempest catches Immacolata's attention, she senses the Fugue is near.

Weaveworld is epic, and that has little to do with the over-700 pages it took to tell it. An in-depth synopsis would never touch beyond the surface so I won't really try. Only reading it for yourself will do. It's the story of an entire world, all the magical elements of our histories, tangled up in the knots of a single carpet. Having recently reviewed Piers Anthony's With A Tangled Skein, I bumped up my re-reading of Weaveworld. I wanted to investigate the similar themes, the living threads that they had in common.

Yes, I've read Weaveworld before, twice before if I remember correctly. But taking another look, I was amazed at either how much I had missed or how the story had changed. Because, it Does change.
Barker wonderfully pours out his imagery in a half-light. Whole characterizations that are so odd and beguiling that their particulars are never clear.

I remember the first time I read this book. It was so hefty that I was sure I missed some subtleties trying to get into it, and by the time I realized how encompassing it was, I was too far in to backtrack.
The second time I read it was a few years later and I tried to pace myself and let more through.
This time, due to reviewing it for the Cannonball Read, I tried letting the story dictate its own speed, and I was taken aback at how it carried me along.

The first act is the "most" based in any sort of reality (as far as this tale will allow), and we are intrduced to Cal and his family, Shadwell and his "brood", Suzanna, who's grandmother guarded the carpet up until her death and the events that bring us up to date.

But once our eyes catch the movement of the world in the carpet, once we fall INTO it, the patterns are already lost, and it's already in danger of being undone.
Of course it's no spoiler that the fabric, the Fugue, erupts and that the mystical places boom forth and attach themselves to the lost nooks of the natural world.. Ghosts of time, what can be summed up incorrectly as Angels and Demons, now wander our landscapes and blanket our neighborhoods with their stones and trees and altars...

Immacolata wants control of this domain, while her black sisters rape poor souls, giving birth to foul abortions ready to do her bidding. Shadwell wants his rewards and his comeuppance is satisfied. Suzanna wants her destiny to embrace her, whatever it may be.
And Cal Mooney just wants to understand. His story is, I think, one of Barker's mainstays. That's not to invalidate his experiences. Cal is a character I feel is most like Barker as a man (as is Will Rabjohns in Sacrament and, to a lesser degree, Aaron Boone in Cabal). Cal has enough on his plate, dealing with a grieving father and unsympathetic (or unable to sympathize) fiancee, when suddenly his world is literally turned upside down as he falls off the wall of his own circumstance into the air of the unbelievable.

The breathing thing that catches him doesn't require his belief, only his escort. Whether or not Cal can grasp the importance of this swirling assault is only where his story begins.

CR2: Book 19 The Scarlet Pimpernel by Baroness Orczy

2010-03-24T17:53:00.000-07:00

You can blame Helena Bonham Carter for this one. While watching Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland, I yearned to see people having their heads cut off. And I *loved* Leslie Howard as the Scarlet Pimpernel as a child. Oddly enough, TWO branches of the library system here had copies of the book already checked out when I looked. Maybe HBC put the idea in others' heads as well.

In 1792, three years into the French Revolution, a crowd of people gathered every morning to watch as carts rolled in filled with nobles scheduled to be beheaded under the sharp blade of the guillotine. The blood-thirsty crowds witnessed as one after another, whole families were executed.

Each evening, toward sunset, the mob would move to the city gates guarded by citizen soilders. In the mornings, carts would be let through, to stock the city with food. But as these carts left in the evenings, there always seemed to be a noble or two that tried to slip out, headed for the safety of England. The mob would watch as the soilders monitored the exiting carts, hoping someone would get caught and as such, sentenced to die.

The Committee of Public Safety was charged with voting whether specific nobles should be put to death. Led by Citizen Tinville, the Committee was angry at a small band of Englishmen who were helping the nobles. Tinville occassionally found notes in his pocket, taunting the Committee as to how many nobles would be rescued in a single afternoon. And these notes were always signed with the emblem of a small red flower...

Tinville offered a reward of five thousand francs to any soilder that could capture the Scarlet Pimpernel, and death to those who let him escape.

Everyone placed bets on which soilder would tangle with the Pimpernel. Some thought Sergeant Bibot at the West Gate would collect the reward. Bibot was cocky, mocking other soilders who had failed, but was himself fooled by the Pimpernel disguised as an old hag who claimed her cart might have a touch of the Plague or Smallpox. The cart actually held the Comtesse de Tournay and her two children...

Several days later, in the English port of Dover, Lord Anthony Dewhurst arrives at an inn and sets up a dinner feast for the Comtesse and her family, soon to arrive from France. Also to be attending are Sir Percy Blakeney and his wife, Marguerite St. Just Blakeney, a retired stage actress.

And it is here that the story of the Scarlet Pimpernel really turns into her story. Many of the French nobles disliked Marguerite, including the Comtesse, who refused to let her daughter speak to Marguerite. Marguerite had betrayed the Marquis de St. Cyr, who in turn had died with his family under the guillotine.

I worry that getting into the particulars of this betrayal, as it winds its way through the entire 2nd and 3rd acts of the book. It should be no surprise that Sir Percy is the Pimpernel, no big spoiler there. But the action starts building when Marguerite herself realizes his secret and sets off to save him from the evil Chauvelin and his army of French soilders, hot on the Pimpernel's trail.

Sweet read. The pacing was a little off-putting at times, but I think that was more my modern-reader's issue than the author's. The ending was only slightly underwhelming, but all plot points were tied up nicely. I would have liked to have seen more action from the Pimpernel and his 19 English helpers, but Marguerite's POV was adequate, if not a little annoying at times.

CR2: Book 18 Vox by Nicholson Baker

2010-03-09T17:37:00.000-08:00

"You'll love this, it's about phone sex," the woman with the sweatpants said, "I couldn't put it down!"

And somewhere between that interaction and the end of this book (which took a mere 8 hour shift to slog through), I wished I'd never told my customers about the Cannonball Read. I'd thought that in doing so, I'd get books donated that were outside of my comfort zone. But this, this Vox, was a gigantic waste of my normal dicking-around time. I've read better erotica in Playgirl.

The whole book is a conversation, with hardly a 'he said, she said' in sight. There is no plot, no moving along from A to B, just a million and one tangents that made me want to scream.

So, we start out having just left group chat at some 900-number. Jim and Abby liked each other's voice and decide to go talk in private. "What are you wearing?" he asks. And just like that, Abby starts babbling. And she never shuts the fuck up.

And Jim retorts with randomness and is a stupid moron.

That's it. That's the damn book.
Oh yeah, they "try" to talk sexy, but keep getting sidetracked with ridiculous getting-things-from-the-kitchen or expounding on someone's personal ad or discussing how much a shirt cost (for PAGES) or doing weird things like going on-and-on about genitalia in the most unsexy verbage possible. Jim traces his cock on a piece of paper. Abby pours a Diet Coke. Jim describes something near his balls. Abby talks about some invention or other she got that holds paperback novels in place.

And it never stops. And who talks like this? And how much is this call going to cost?

I've HAD phone sex. GOOD phone sex.
This was nowhere near what should pass for vulgarity.
Skip it.

CR2: Book 17 Growing Up Gay edited by Bennett L. Singer

2010-03-07T17:52:00.000-08:00

I came across this anthology while packing for the big move to Texas. I'm sure I flipped through it before, sometime in the early 90's, and had no intention of reading it for the Cannonball Read. But as I sat there, deciding if it should go into the "donate" box or not, I cracked it open and realized it would be perfect padding for my list.

Growing Up Gay is a collection of approximately 50-60 essays. They each tell a coming-of-age story as varied as the next, with of course, the common thread of the author being gay or lesbian. There is no chronological order to this book, and I believe at least one author was writing about his childhood in the 1920s.
The idea the editor had to bring all these stories together came from a feeling of being "different" growing up and having no examples or mentors to guide him. The few books he found to learn about his sexuality sent mixed messages or detailed brutal homophobia. Once older, he realized that "gays are everywhere" from all cultures and backgrounds. This anthology is his gift to a younger generation that may feel as if they are "the only one".

The book is seperated into 4 parts.

In the first section, "Self-Discovery" there is an interview from a 1977 documentary about a young Chinese-American who came out, several stories from men and women raised in extremely religious homes, and even an excerpt from Martina Navratilova's autobiography. It all adds up to "you're not alone" and I appreciated the variety of writings.

"Friendships/Relationships" are covered in the second section, which includes Walt Whitman's "We Two Boys Together, Clinging" and tales of school mockery, comradery and first loves/crushes. I read what it was like growing up lesbian in Oregon, Dennis Cooper's poem "My Story" (about two experimenting high school boys) and a story about a Laguna Pueblo/Sioux Indian who's first relationship took place in 1944 while serving in the U.S. Army.
Singer's careful editing choices were starting to grow on me. Not every story related to me, but I was enjoying the bigger picture.

The third section of this anthology, "Family", fell on me like a ton of bricks. Stories of being Black and gay in El Paso, of changing family dynamics after coming out to ununderstanding parents, of being gay in Little Havana, a Cuban neighborhood in Miami. The fear and apprehension these young people lived with is heartbreaking. The outcomes of their coming-out always different than what they expected. Some were met with closer family bonds, but most were shunned and belittled, and others were committed or met with violence.

The last section, "Facing the World", could have been longer. Included was a beautiful poem by Dorothy Parker, stories of closeted Military personnel and members of college basketball teams facing homophobia, and even an excerpt from Rita Mae Brown's Rubyfruit Jungle (which I loved).

As an openly gay man from a strict Christian background, I saw myself in more of this book than I initially thought I would. Somewhere about about halfway through it, I realized that I didn't need to hear all it had to say, I had lived it. I can't keep this book. I can't pack it away to be found who-knows-when.
I'll look tomorrow for a youth center I can give it to.

CR2: Book 16 With A Tangled Skein by Piers Anthony

2010-03-05T19:44:00.000-08:00

How awesome finding this book was! And it only cost me 35 cents!

After reviewing "Bearing an Hourglass" from the Incarnations of Immortality, I knew I had to find more of this set, and this third book in the series proved to me that Hourglass wasn't a delicious fluke.

Niobe was a beautiful Irish lass arranged to be married to a "boy" 5 years younger than she. She is upset, but is convinced by her father it is the best for the family and relents. She and Cedric spend their nuptial night in his inherited cottage near a swamp, not getting it on.
Over the next few weeks, they tour the glades and forest around the swamp, and she is impressed by his love and knowledge of nature and the local magic. They befriend a tree nymph. Cedric finally wins Niobe's love when he sings to her. His voice carries a wonderful magic: when he sings and touches her, she hears full orchestras.
He leaves to attend college and when she visits him, she is almost raped by some hooligans. Cedric saves her and they consummate their marriage, finally. She gets pregnant.

One day, while weaving at her loom, she has a terrible vision. Then, hearing a gunshot, she races off to find that a deer hunter has killed Cedric. She decides to give her baby up for adoption (leaving it with Cedric's cousin) and go petition Death to bring Cedric back.

Death is somewhat willing to meet with Niobe, but unable to help her. He suggests Chronos (from Hourglass) can help her. Chronos explains that he could indeed go back and save Cedric but there is a bigger picture here that may be altered if he does. Rather, he takes Niobe to meet with Fate.

Fate is 3-women-in-1 and is responsible for weaving the great tapestry of life, with threads spun from the substance of the Void. Each thread represents a human life and the length of the thread determines how long a person will live. The pattern the threads make indicate who that person will interact with. Fate shimmers from Clotho (who is the youngest aspect of Fate and spins each thread) to Lachesis (a middle-aged aspect who measures the threads) to Atropos (the oldest, who cuts each thread) and can also turn into a spider and travel on threads within the tapestry. Once accepting a job as an incarnation of Fate, these women don't age until they step down from office,
After some investigating, Fate delivers the news that Niobe was the target, not Cedric, and that Satan had some master plan to have her killed because she was destined to thwart him in some way. Niobe is broken and feels she has nothing left to live for.

But then Fate has a plan. The current Clotho is ready to retire and Niobe, with no further ties, is perfect for the job. And Satan better watch his back...

From there, things move along rather quickly, as Niobe learns the duties of her job, meets the other Incarnations, and is tempted by Satan. From her unaging standpoint, she is able to watch over the lives of her child and extended family and starts to see where their lives diverge with the Incarnation of Evil and what he has in store. It seems her taking the office of Fate was in the cards all along. And with the help of the other two women (whom she shares one hive-mind and shapeshifting body), she sets out to stop him.

I'm trying really hard to not give too much away after she becomes Fate. This story adds a depth to characters I already read about in Hourglass and I can tell I'm going to have to find the other books in the series to flesh out the big picture.
With a Tangled Skein was a quick read, wonderfully thought-out and crazily inventive (there's a computer in Purgatory! demons storm a wedding! Mother Nature is kooky!). I want to start over and read it again.

CR2: Book 15 Cabal by Clive Barker

2010-03-02T19:17:00.000-08:00

Aaron Boone is very troubled. He has gruesomely bizarre dreams that he discusses with his psychiatrist, Dr. Decker. Decker (played brilliantly in my mind by director David Cronenberg) convinces Boone that his dreams aren't dreams, they're memories of murders Boone has committed. He shows Boone some crime scene pictures he lifted off the police connecting the dots between bloody points before prescribing Boone some pills to help him rest.

Boone reacts badly to the prescription, trips balls, wishes he wasn't estranged from his girlfriend and tosses himself in front of a semi. He wakes in the hospital where another patient hounds him, begs Boone to take him to Midian. Midian. That's a name from my dreams, Boone thinks, but before he can ponder any further, the patient takes some hooks and rips his own face off.

Boone escapes the hospital, heads out of town, looking for Midian. And he finds it. It's an old cemetary. There's no one in Midian that can give him any answers. Or is there?

Soon, Boone is meeting with some of Midian's inhabitants, Old World shapeshifters and worshippers of religions lost to time. They want nothing to do with Boone, it is forbidden to fellowship with outsiders. Boone is demanding, the Nightbreed is his last hope at sanity, at belonging. He tries to convince them he is a monster, that he's killed innocent people...
And he is almost eaten by a rebellious Peloquin, but gets away and runs from Midian, only to be met at its gates by Decker and a squad of armed authorities. Decker informs them that Boone has a gun and they waste no time executing the family-murderer.

Boone wakes up in the morgue, his gunshot wounds healing before he even climbs off the cold slab. The bite Peloquin gave him must have imparted something in him. He runs from the morgue.

Lori is distraught. She wants to see the spot where her boyfriend was killed by the police. She makes her way to Midian, still not believing Boone could do the awful things they are saying about him. Sure, he was different, sometimes moody, a little dark. But so were most the guys she went out with, before Boone. But his sensitivity and care had won her over. She fell for him harder than anyone. And suddenly, he was gone, and his memory was sullied with blood and dirt. If she could just see Midian, maybe she could understand why...
But then she saves a little Nightbreed girl by bringing her out of the deadly sunlight into her mother's arms in the safety of shadows and learns what lives beneath Midian.

The movie Nightbreed gets airtime around my house every Halloween. It is a perfect little monster movie for rooting for the monsters. I hoped when I started reading Cabal that I would have the same emotional ties to the characters in the movie. I didn't. If anything, I now love these characters more. Lori isn't as annoyingly needy in the book. And Boone's torments are explained further. Decker is still very creepy, possibly more so.
But the monsters impacted me on a different level altogether. There is a scene in the movie where Rachel (played by Catherine Chevalier, Tiffany's mother in Hellbound: Hellraiser 2) explains why humans fear monsters, out of jealousy that the Nightbreed can do things humans only dream of: flying, turning into smoke, etc., and we see their farcical crusade against the monsters unfold. It's an awesome bloody ending that causes the audience to favor the monsters winning over the ignorant redneck mob backed by various law enforcement agents...
The book actually told it better.

CR2: Book 14 A Matter of Life and Sex by Oscar Moore

2010-02-26T20:03:00.000-08:00

A Matter of Life and Sex was published in 1992 and is a fictionalized biography of Hugo Harvey. It begins with a letter from Moore to Hugo's mother, whom he had met at Hugo's funeral. In this letter, Moore tries to explain why Hugo's story needed to be told and that it wasn't a direct reflection on his family. Hugo, who passes due to complications from AIDS in 1991, had only one regret and that was that he was survived by his parents.

Hugo's story begins when he is in grade school and learns to lie about how much money his family has. He is from the wrong side of the tracks (rather, the bottom of the hill), but is witty and likeable. His mother was a sensible woman with a famous temper. His father was unambitious and a bit of a carpet.
There are blinding clues as to how Hugo is going to develop sexually. He skips. He doesn't like football. He lets a perv diddle him in a toilet stall. He discovers various types of gay porn. He has threesomes in the woods. He runs away, and finds himself in orgies.

In the meantime, various and sundry lovers float in and out of his path, some causing confusion, some broken hearts, some oozing sores. Hugo has strained relations with his family. He opts to try religion. He abuses drugs. He is infected with HIV.

I loved how this book focused on details to hint at the bigger picture of Hugo's life. I enjoyed the back and forth of the non-linear narrative, bookended with letters to people Hugo loved: his parents, old schoolfriends, exes, former drug dealers.
Interesting enough for a character to be so rounded at such a young age, but more interesting to see Hugo at work, telling his own story with exagerration and sometimes, obvious lies.

Hugo battled with his own personality his whole life; he never saw himself the way others did. He had countless rounds of therapy that never quite helped.
And his deterioration due to his HIV infection broke my heart, not just because of his physical problems, but because it was clear his thoughts were getting the best of him. In the end, when all he seemed was a shell, that small child came back in tiny glimpses, and I had to put this book down and rest for a while.

CR2: Book 13 Danse Macabre by Stephen King

2010-02-24T17:33:00.000-08:00

The world as we've seen it through Stephen King's eyes began in October 1957 when he was only 10 years old. Watching Hugh Marlowe in Earth vs. the Flying Saucers, he was terrified by the snarling geriatric faces of the aliens, so far removed from the handsome Klaatu in The Day the Earth Stood Still that had been released a few years before. His fear was an intoxicant, and his love of horror and science fiction was born that day. Danse Macabre is a study of how these two genres have mixed and mingled in movies and print from the 1950's through the late 1980's.

King titled this study "Danse Macabre" because the art of bringing fear is rhythmic in nature. There may be an uncivilized level of disgust, a growing uneasiness, a horrid unbelievability, but steps must be taken, and rational thought must be pacified and wooed. Psychologically and emotionally, as an audience, we are asked to the dancefloor, knowing full-well it will end badly. We will embarrass ourselves, tripping and falling to the ground, flailing in our own piss and hoping no one else witnessed it.

Without being too academic in this review, this is a book about the roots of what is horrifying. War, disease, loss: things we can't control are given a face and are sent after us. Technology is bigger than us, monsters are built or arrive unexpectedly, people we love are changed, dreams run amok. And suddenly, we can't seem to get out of our own way.

The horror genre is simply a mask for what ails us. And King knows that not everyone will agree with his assessment of its history. At times, I was applauding his understanding of group criticism toward certain movies or media, and other times- well, not so much. But no one can say that he hasn't done his homework. His view of the modern American horror movie and horror fiction has shaped him and reading Danse Macabre was like listening to a really long lecture and having the attention span to see it to the end.
Every chapter held revelations and it was difficult not to get excited about some B/W film that was released before I was even born, as if it were a new release.

CR2: Book 12 The Hemingway Hoax by Joe Haldeman

2010-02-19T18:13:00.000-08:00

In a dive bar, somewhere in Key West, John Baird, a Hemingway scholar meets Sylvester Castlemaine, a con-man. After a brief discussion, "Castle" plants in Baird the seeds of a plot to fool the literary world and make a little money.

Early in his career, Hemingway discovered that several stories he had been working on had been stolen. He had been in Switzerland covering a peace summit for a news service and sent for his lover, Hadley Richardson. On her own initiative, she packed up all his manuscripts (with corresponding first drafts and carbons) in a suitcase, which was then lifted off the luggage cart on the train.
Could Baird, who has absolutely eidetic memory and can remember literally any Hemingway passage "write" these lost stories and pass them off as originals?

Baird takes Castle home to meet his wife Lena and they discuss the plan. A 1921 Corona typewriter would be needed, and retro-fitted with the flaws and quirks to match the machine Hemingway used during that period. And attics all over Paris would have to be searched for the correctly aged paper. And a technique for aging ink would have to be perfected. All sorts of impossible hoops would have to be jumped. Castle wants money, Baird wants the fame.
And that part of the story moves along briskly, and then...

Suddenly on a train, Baird is confronted by an interdimensional being who warns him not to finish the paragraph he was working on. He tells Baird that if he finishes the pastiche, the futures of countless alternate realities are at risk.
This creature, a shapeshifter, is one of a larger group of beings that happens to be...God? The Devil? The Grand Unification Theory? The Great Pumpkin? All of the above and more. It is able to sit still and look over zillions of alternate dimensions and times at once. Every choice any of us makes sends untold branches of causes and effects jutting out into everything. And it's just zeroed in on Baird writing his forgery as the cause of untold fucked-ness.
The creature advises that he will kill Baird if he tells anyone and he has a stick that will give you a heart attack or a stroke or cancer to prove it. Unbelieving, Baird tells a train porter and the universal hitman makes his point a little clearer with a mini-stroke.

Back in Key West, Lena and her newest lover, Castle, plan a wicked double-cross to have Baird blackmailed...

Based on the ridiculous cover art, which features a giant Hemingway face surrounded by several falling, leaping, tumbling Hemingways, I was a little meh about reading this. But once I opened it up, I was in love.
The first act didn't bore me to tears as I imagined it would, and once I realized there was something unmaterialized tracking Baird, my interest kept me involved. The story was as inane as a Nic Cage movie, but well-written with humor and suspense. The Spacio-Temporal Adjustment officer with its dimensional death-cane flutters behind the scenes, moving ghostily through human interaction and was so unexpected at times that I couldn't predict how it was all going to play out.
All in all, a very satisfying read.

CR2: Book 11 Frankenstein by Mary Shelly

2010-02-07T16:47:00.000-08:00

When I started reading Frankenstein the other day at work, I soon realized that while I'm sure I've seen many cinematical versions of the story, there were elements evolving I hadn't picked up. The tale is so well-known, but it wasn't until I actually started reading it that I realized I hadn't read it before.

We all know where it starts. Victor Frankenstein wants to be a famous scientist.

Living in Switzerland in the mid-1700s with his family and adopted sister, he is preparing for college when his mother becomes ill and dies. He kind of creepily is in love with Elizabeth, the sister, and wants to start a relationship with her, as soon as he gets his chemistry degree. He becomes obsessed with matters of life and death, and it's a swell time for it, what with all the medical and technological advances going on. Someone just tracked the human circulatory system!

So in between studies, he pilfers through corpses in graveyards and stiches together a giant man-corpse. There was no big stormy-night-lightning-scene, rather he injects chemicals into the meatbag and then is shocked when it sits up, because it's so monstrous. It's like he didn't even see it for what it was when it was lifeless.

Anyway, Frankenstein faints and the monster wanders away. For weeks, it roams the woods learning which roots and berries don't make it sick. It sticks its hand in a campfire. It enters a house and learns from the reaction it gets that it's not a very beautiful creature. It's chased by an angry frightened mob.

The monster soon holes up next to a small house, helps the couple that lives there with some secret garden-tilling and even befriends a blind old man. Then the monster Teaches Itself To Read and starts Philosophizing About The Nature of Itself. (I know, I was all, what?!)

Basically, the monster is lonely and wants his creator to make him a woman. It starts stalking Frankenstein. It kills one of the younger Frankenstein brothers and the nanny is blamed and executed. It vows to take further revenge on the night Victor and Elizabeth are to be married.
There's a desperate chase across some frozen tundra.

The real fun is this awfully morbid reality was imagining Boris Karloff as the monster and Helena Bonham Carter as Elizabeth. As it was, reading this book was a jumble of familiar scenes and images. All too enjoyable.

CR2: Book 10 The Mote In God's Eye by Larry Niven and Jerry Pournelle

2010-02-03T16:45:00.000-08:00

I picked this book up last year at a garage sale and thought I'd never have time to get into it, but liked the cover art. It's a huge story, but I settled into it easily and found my bedtime getting later and later each night.

1000 years from now, Commander Lord Roderick Blaine (*swoon*) and his newly-rescued girlfriend (and Imperial Senator's niece) Sally are trying to restore order to the planet of New Chicago. A not-so-unfamiliar team of starship cast and crew are along for the ride. There was this huge civil war going on, and allegiances are wonky. There's also some weird culty religious groups out there also, and they worship a star, or something.

So, of course, an alien ship contacts them and they have to worm-hole it over there to check it out. And what they find are Moties (named after the big red star the crazies worship) and the Moties are awesome. They are like little peaceful Ewok-monkey-kindergarteners. They have advanced technology and little smaller Motie-Lites who take everything apart and then reassemble to stuff to make things work better. And make coffee. There's all kinds of awesomepants when the little watchmakers get in the vents!

The Motie ambassadadors bond with certain members of the crew, becoming what they call "fyunch(click)s" which was awkward at first, but then I started using this term myself, and it fits all around. The crew learns what they can about their fyunch(click)s, about the aliens switching sexes throughout their lifespan, about what the little watchmaker Moties really are, about the Motie's violent history and expanding civilization.

And when Rod and Sally kiss, why am I the one who fell in love?

CR2: Book 9 Lost Horizon by James Hilton

2010-01-21T17:14:00.000-08:00

Having not decided what to read next, I was amused to find a frozen paperback in the parking lot at work. It was caked in ice, but with a little cleaning up, was mostly undestroyed by the weather. And the cover announced that it was "the very 1st paperback novel" and how could I ignore that?

I wish I had. Not that it's that awful of a story, but I really shouldn't read too many more books from the 1930's. It just isn't my literary cup of tea.

Lost Horizons may be familiar to most as the story of how a team of men found the fictional Shangri-La, a wonderful utopia high in the mountains of Tibet. Unfortunately, while the word "Shangri-La" conjurs images of awesomeness, this book seemed to lag every few pages. Even the accounts of the lamasery with all its mystery bored me. And that's why I shouldn't read books from around this time. The language...is stifling.

In Berlin, two old school chums get into a conversation with a pilot about a missing British ambassador in Afghanistan, who turned up in some Chinese hospital ward with amnesia. He regained his memory long enough to tell the tale. Being evacuated during an Indian revolution, a plane is taken over and then crashes in Tibet. The pilot is near-death and instructs the survivors to head toward Shangri-La, a hidden lamasery in the western Himalayas. The trek is a boring one and characters are fleshed out a little more, but I responded to none of them.

Once they reach Shangri-LA, they find that it has central heat and air, and bathtubs, and that when you're there you age very slowly. And the 300-something year old High Lama is dying and needs someone to act as his replacement. Rather than pick from the other lamas, he thinks about choosing one of the more boring outlanders. I really don't know, my eyes started a slow glaze about a third from the end. It took extreme force-of-will to finish.

The whole idea of Shangri-La is to inspire you not to leave, right? I just chucked this book into the outside garbage bin.

something spot said

2010-01-05T06:21:00.000-08:00

spot commented on my last book report that she was glad i was back, and my heart sank.
i have neglected this blog (except for cannonball read purposes) because i have only so much time in the day and well, facebook is a time-consumer. and most of you guys are on there, so i get my networking fill there.

i work 6 days a week and am prepping to move to houston on may 1st, so this is my Formal Notice that, unless something really really important happens, i'll be using this space mainly for book reviews for now.

i beg you, if you haven't already, find me on facebook, friend me, that way i can keep up with you guys day-to-day.
bonus: i will send you flair!

it took a lot of strong-arming to get me to finally sign up on facebook and i am so glad i did. i've reconnected with old friends, old frenemies, and even found someone who considers me the "love of his life"...
please meet me there.

xo

CR2: Book 8 The Hellbound Heart by Clive Barker

2010-01-03T17:33:00.001-08:00

I thought it may be difficult to re-read a story I enjoyed so long ago when the movie version has been on repeat in my house for the better part of 2 decades. I figured re-reading this after seeing Hellraiser over 100 times would be a stale waste of time.
It wasn't.
In fact, if anything, the short novella that started it all has been bumped up my favorites ladder. I've been trying to remember the nuances of the movie, but since reading this book, little pieces of what I thought I remembered have been fleeting. I can't remember Hellraiser or any of the sequels (which of course, I own) mentioning the Order of the Gash, only referring to the demons as Cenobites. Little details that were changed for the movie (Kirsty being Rory's daughter, for example) now seem just an irritant, after reading the story this time around. As HB found when I read him short scenarios aloud, Barker added much more detail in so few words than I ever saw on-screen.

Frank Cotton is an asshole. He wants what he wants and he cares not whom he hurts. Having scouted the globe for new and aberrant pleasures, he sets himself on a quest for the Lemarchand Configuration, a puzzle box that opens the dimensional doorways into the Unknown. Having found the box, he squats in his deceased parents' home and attempts to solve it. Once undone, the Cenobites show up to not only grant his wishes, but make sure he regrets ever having longed for something more. And then, back to Hell, with Frank's soul in tow...

Rory Cotton has decided to refurbish his childhood home and live there with his wife Julia, and anyone familiar with her knows she's no innocent. She had a pre-marital affair with her fiancee's brother (and by pre-marital, I mean mere hours before the ceremony, on top of her wedding gown, in this very house.)While fixing up the home, Rory cuts himself and goes to find Julia, who is reminiscing upstairs in the room Frank had sexed her, the same room in which the Cenobites had found him. Tending to her husband's wound, she doesn't realize the floorboards are sucking up the fallen blood...
At a dinner party, we meet Kirsty, who is a bit unsure of herself and drinking a little much.
After Julia excuses herself, she returns to the room to find... skinless, unformed Frank, who has just found his loophole, his Get Out of Hell Free card. He convinces Julia that she can bring him back from his torments and they can be together. After Julia relents, Frank informs her he needs more blood, setting her off to seduce men she meets in bars, and then murder them in Frank's room.
Of course, Rory feels Julia's growing detachment and has his friend Kirsty follow Julia around, hoping (or not hoping) to catch her infidelities. After Kirsty discovers nearly-formed Frank, they struggle and she runs off, with the Lemarchand box. Kirsty is bloody, beaten, half-crazed, and therefore hospitalized. While in the hospital, she holds the box, trying to grasp all she has seen, and unwittingly opens it.

The Cenobite who appears understands that she was ignorant of what the box was, that it was not Kirsty's intention at all to gain new insights, new juxtapositions of reality. But rules are rules, and a soul must be taken back. Through some bargaining, Kirsty assures the Cenobite that she can help recapture one who has escaped them, one Frank Cotton. She would have to trick Frank into revealing himself, into confessing what he has done, and then (maybe, just maybe) Kirsty's soul wouldn't be torn apart.

Overall, what should have been a quick read, wasn't.
I found myself pausing and constructing every paragraph, the familiar images of actors and locations and special effects took on new life this time around. Barker is a master of saying so much with so little.
Anyone who enjoyed Hellraiser or any of its sequels (Bloodlines is a favorite) will enjoy reading The Hellbound Heart.

CR2: Book 7 101 Gay Sex Secrets Revealed by Jonathan Bass

2009-12-11T18:41:00.000-08:00

So, I'd consider myself an old pro at this "gay sex" thing, but what-with me heading to Texas next weekend, I figured reading this couldn't hurt, dust off the old cobwebs, so to speak. And about half-way through reading it, I realized I was Actually Learning Somethings.
(so, look out HB!)

101 Gay Sex Secrets Revealed is a wonderfully written little book. Jonathan Bass uses clever turns of phrases and double (and triple) entendre as well as any gay male worth his salt. And while a lot of this book I found to be plain old common sense, there was a good deal to ponder.

Chapter 1 deals with any non-sexual pre-sex prepping, like finding comfortable stylish clothes and where to cruise (neighborhood bars, dance clubs, art galleries, etc.), bar etiquette, wingmen, the difference between a lover and a fuck buddy. but we don't really care about Chapter 1, do we? right...

Chapter 2, or How to Masturbate. Basically: know thy penis, know thyself. This chapter also discusses the differences in lubes, be they oil-based, water-based or silicon-based. There are a few basic jacking-off techniques talked about: the Basic Stroke, the Backhand Grip, the Bed Bump and the Belly Rub.
There are also some good tips to jacking HIM off, i.e. the Pepper Mill, the Tunnel o'Love, the Taffy Pull and the Doorknob.
This chapter also teaches some "delay" tactics as well as some diddle dont's: like never put your cock somewhere it might get stuck, and not bending it too far in any direction while hard.

Chapter 3 is all about Seduction and Foreplay: making out like teenagers, putting on a show, talking dirty without sounding like a bad porn (unless that's hot and then how to do it well), and frottaging, or rubbing against each other.

Chapter 4 (you still with me?) is all cock and balls. What foreskin is (and isn't), blow job basics (with pros and cons for each!), the, um, care and use of testicles, how to make the most of your "taint", sweetening up the taste of your load, and how to have your ass and eat it too.

Chapter 5 is the butt primer. We learn ALL about the ass. Prepping for butt play, relaxing for butt play, getting into the groove of your buttplay (learning to tell the difference between what it feels like to have your prostate hit as opposed to having to take a crap), condom use, and cleaning up afterwards.

There are positions in Chapter 6 that don't really require visuals, but this book has 'em!
We can see exactly how the Reverse Missionary and Doggie Style should be done. I thought these would be pretty self-explanatory, but Mr. Bass felt the need.
Of course, I didn't realize that what I really (really) love is called the Log-Splitter.

Ah, Chapter 7 with your lovely array of toys. Here we learn the best places to buy sex toys, the care and cleaning of the various materials of which they are made (silicone, jelly, cyberskin, natural rubber latex, synthetic rubber, hard plastics, acrylic and lucite), and the general differences between dildos, vibrators, butt plugs and anal beads. We also find out about different cock-rings, tit-clamps and masturbation sleeves.
And then the rough stuff: handcuffs, restraints, rope...

Chapter 8, or How to Play Well with Others, is full of tips on overnight etiquette, 3-way tips, how to be a good host, outdoor sex..

Then comes the "advanced" section. Kink, S/M, role-play, exhibitionism/voyeurism, spanking, bondage, making homemade porn...you want it, you got it.

And then, Chapter 10 comes out of nowhere with tips on romancing your man and building passion. Good stuff.

This book may not be for everyone. (duh)
But it reminded me to enjoy myself, and enjoy my partner.

And I, for one, can't wait.

CR2: Book 6 The Prisoner of Zenda by Anthony Hope

2009-12-06T10:47:00.000-08:00

I've begun to think that there really are no new ideas left. As I've taken to reading a few of the "classics" for the Cannonball Read 2, I've noticed more and more of the trends Hollywood recycles.

The Prisoner of Zenda begins with Rudolf Rassendyll, an English slacker with more inherited money than he knows what to do with. He argues with his sister-in-law about his slackery and she tries to insult his red hair and long nose, a trait that only shows up in their family every few hundred years.

In the paper one day, Rassendyll reads that Rudolph the Fifth will soon be crowned King of (the pretend) country of Ruritania. As he is a distant cousin to this family, he decides to visit, secretly, under the pretense of writing a book.

Unfortunately, once he arrives he learns he is the spitting image of the soon-to-be-Crowned. Unfortunate because there is foul play underfoot. Younger brother Black Michael (really?) wants to be King and sets off a chain of events to kidnap and eventually murder Rudolf the Fifth.

So, what does our slacker do? Step in to be Crowned while Black Michael seethes, unable to expose the imposter? (check) Fall in love with the beautiful Princess Flavia, even though she is unaware he isn't the real king? (check) Find his allies, foil his enemies, organize a rescue, get shanked, culminate into a dueling dervish? (check, check, check, check. and check)

kevin kline could have done it in his sleep.

good read.

CR2: Book 5 The Turn of the Screw by Henry James

2009-11-19T22:58:00.000-08:00

I came upon this book by accident. Customers who know of my involvment with the Cannonball Read have been donating books at random, and it was a delight to find this hidden at the bottom of a box this week. I remember seeing one of the many repetitive movie adaptations a couple of years ago, with Leelee Sobieski (maybe?), I can't remember. But the thought of reading a classic that inspired so many Babysitter-in-Peril movies had me chomping at the bits and I devoured it in a little over a day.

The beginning of the story is a little muddled, with the author sharing a story with friends. After having to send away for the manuscript, he tells them it was sent by his sister and written by her dead governess. It is her story.

In London, looking for a job, a young preacher's daughter meets the uncle of two small children. He hires her as their governess, but states that he doesn't want to be bothered with ANY detail concerning them. Just, do NOT bother me. She realizes this is a big job and wants to do her best.

After seeing the estate she will live at, she is overwhelmed by it grandeur. She meets Flora, a beautifully well-mannered little girl and Mrs. Grouse, the housekeeper, who is very helpful in getting her acquainted. The next day she is informed of a letter, which reads that the boy, Miles, is being sent home from bording school and will not be allowed to return.

When the governess meets Miles, she is charmed by him. She decides to not bother their uncle with the development and takes it upon herself to teach and raise the children. Everything goes splendidly, until...

A strange man is seen staring into the house. Based on his description, Mrs. Grouse determines in it the former valet, Peter Quint, who is dead.
Then, out by the lake with Flora, she sees a woman dressed in black, and it is obvious that Flora is aware of her and is trying to draw attention away. She is Ms. Jessel, the former governess, and it is implied that Quint killed her, and that they were lovers, and that he molested the boy, and that she the girl, and that, even after death, they have come to take the children.

And it just keeps piling on. The children themselves start to behave differently. They're secretive. They act out. They cuddle and charm, but our governess can't quite wrap her head around to whom their allegiance lies.
There's no help to be had as the uncle has absolved himself of the scene.

What's our babysitter to do? Pull a Jamie Lee Curtis and see it through til the end, that's what.

I recommend. With the closet door closed. After checking under the bed.

CR2: Book 4, Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky

2009-11-18T15:13:00.000-08:00

It's become evident that I'm not going to be able to review Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment without giving away a few spoilers. It was a ridiculously plotted out book disguised as some sort of character study, but I just didn't believe it. None of it made any logical sense, and maybe that was my fault for not understanding the main character's actions. I mean, I got his motivations, but I half-expected Tonya Harding and Leif Garrett to come out and begin explaining what I just read like a clip from The Smoking Gun's Dumbest Criminals show.

Raskolnikov is a poor student living in the Russian capital of St. Petersburg. He goes days without eating and is about to be evicted. He is going to see an old woman to whom he had previously pawned a ring. He has his father's watch and needs more money, but is using the visit as an excuse to stake out her business as he intends to take from her.
After leaving, he goes to have a drink and meets Marmeladov, who's drunk and chatty. When Raskolnikov helps Marmeladov home and sees the squalor, he gives all the money he has (which isn't much as he was ripped off by the old woman) and leaves for home, poorer than before.

Arriving home, his own landlady threatens him with police action if he doesn't pay his rent. To make matters worse, he receives a letter from his mother that suggests his sister is to marry an older gentleman she doesn't love, for security.
Raskolnikov decides he must carry out his plan of not only stealing from the pawnbroker, but murdering her as well! He makes a small noose inside his coat for concealing an ax, makes a fake parcel to gain entry into the old woman's home, and decides to carry out his plan when he is sure the old woman's sister won't be visiting.

Look, he kills her. And when her sister shows up unannounced, he takes his ax and fucks her up too. We all knew it was coming. But what brought my hatred to a boil was having to spend the rest of the book watching Raskolnikov waver between harsh mood swings of guilt over the murders, unrepentant behaviors, falling in love with Sonya, Marmeladov's daughter (aka Hooker with the Heart of Gold, or Heather Graham), and police-y cat-and-mouse games.

With every step Raskolnikov makes, I wanted to throw the book to the ground.
And *BIG SPOILER* when he turns himself in and spend only 7 years for the pre-meditated murders/robbery, while Sonya waits for him, I vomited a little. A piece of my lunch is still inside the back cover and some librarian isn't going to be happy either.

FB, AvB, HB

2009-11-16T14:15:00.000-08:00

i graduated high school in 1990. that year was the first year they had a computer "lab". it was basically 4 or 5 computers we all had to share, and we learned stupid things, like what DOS stood for. it was a fuck-all class we would usually skip and smoke and drink behind the building. with the teacher.

little did i know, computers would blow up. i mean, like soon everyone would be using them. i took no notice, instead reading books, smoking weed, hanging out, watching cartoons, eating cereal, dancing and being so adorable.

until this past week, i still wasn't on facebook, but thankfully anna von b finally got me over there. it was maddening initially. but i get it now.

i've gotten to deepen my relationships with pajibians, reconnect with old friends, start drama with old lovers.
and fall face first in deep smit. yay me!

i know most of you guys have already caught on, but the last 72 hours have totally rekindled my fires. i thought i was already dead. i was using you guys as a way of keeping my brain alive after the fact.

but it looks like my heart is pumping after all.

CR2: Book 3, Part 2 "The New Testament"

2009-11-12T14:58:00.000-08:00

It's taken me longer to get the taste of Old Testament law out of my mouth than I counted on. I wanted to have this review done and over by now, but where I skirted some portions of the OT, I found myself practically savoring Whole Books of the NT. Part of the reason is the style of language The Message/Remix version is written in, but mostly it's because it contains my three favorite parts of the whole Bible: the life of Jesus, the influence of His apostles, and Revelations.

Most of us "get" the birth of Jesus, as the images saturate our lives every year. But it's such a damned good story of a blessed event that it's recounted repeatedly. The general twist that starts the story is a virgin pregnancy. It's my understanding that this first of NT miracles signified that the OT law was crumbling, that a Salvation from these ways was at hand, and it started with a newborn lying in a stable.
When he got older, Jesus said and did a lot of interesting things, according to the source material. But the common thread in the stories of His life was His love for His fellow man. Jesus would go out of His way to give you something to eat when you were hungry, to make you feel better when you were sick, to give you hope when life was making cancer-nose out of you.
Love one another.
It's what He really had to say.

Now his apostles? They said a lot more.
After Jesus was convicted of political crimes and put to death, His followers went into action to secure his place in the history books. This really starts rolling in the Acts of the Apostles, Luke's continuation of Jesus' story. In it, Luke teaches that Jesus hasn't left us any more than God has left us. He is still In Us.
Another apostle, Paul writes to the church in Rome,

"Fortunate those whose crimes are carted off, whose sins are wiped clean from the slate. Fortunate the person against whom the Lord does not keep score."

Through Paul's letter-writing campaign, more and more churches are united by the simple act of proclaiming Jesus Lord over their congregations. This, of course, moved into what we know today (a church on every corner).

The New Testament ends with a spectacle. Revelation (or A Love Letter to Ty) was written by a man named John of Patmos in the late first century A.D.
While this book deals forthright with the worship of God as a way to combat evil in the world, because there are visions of End Times included, most of the focus tends to be on that Evil. The Beast and its Number, The Great Whore of Babylon (that killer of rainbows), Demi Moore and the Guf, Cusack and Peet: it's all in there, waiting for some dark metal band to draw cover art inspiration from it.

Having once had a child-like faith in these stories, re-reading them as an adult was very difficult.
I recommend not reading the Bible as a novel, but as a great book of verse. If just One verse stands out and helps you along your way, then a Holy Scripture it is.

cabbage patch

2009-11-11T06:21:00.000-08:00

okay, also, there will be No Adoptions.

i'm pushing 40, for pete's sake.

(but you are all very sweet for offering :)

a response to you guys' comments

2009-11-10T19:35:00.000-08:00

i wanted to clear the air a little before i began writing my New Testament review tomorrow.
when i was reading through the Old Testament, well, i was saddened by all the things that were laid out in the grand spirit of governing another's actions, whether deliberate, instinctual or natural. laws against menstrating women, against eating certain foods or on certain days, against weaker people, un-organized people, different people. i could go on but it breaks my heart to remember and i wanted to respond to the comments left, but only in general passing.
i do want to thank everyone for reading the review. reading the bible is hard. and writing about it, about things that you were taught at a very young age and how they don't mean as much to you now: it was rough.
but i'm also well beyond getting offended here.
i realize that we all have our own histories with the Church and/or a Higher Power. i want to be clear that i am not here to preach, rather i wanted to bring to light the difference this particular version meant to me. yes, it was easier to read, but no, the message is still harsh, unfair, and open to debate.
now, i love parts of the New Testament. i wasn't kidding when i said i liked jesus. he is an awesome character, being at once extremely over-rated and cleverly subtle (sort of an anti-lady-gaga). despite the messed-up-ness my family and i have put ourselves through, i have to admit that i had a positive upbringing, and this was mainly because of the teachings of this one man.
i imagine that part 2 of my bible review will have a different tone than part 1.
i guess we'll all find out together.

CR2: Book 3, Part 1 "The Old Testament"

2009-11-09T19:43:00.000-08:00

I have to admit that this isn't my first time reading the Bible. My grandfather started preaching in a small Church of God a couple of years before I was born. He eventually moved on to a larger "non-denominational" church later on, but I was there for it all. Sunday mornings, Sunday nights, Wednesday nights, Friday night prayer meetings...it was Nothing for him to set up a tent in the Summer on a plot of land next to the highway and hold a 3-month revival, where each and every night (each and every), there would be singing, dancing, teaching, preaching, speaking in tongues, worshipping in the Spirit... yet no snake-handling. We weren't fanatics, mind you.
And through-out all those years, if I wasn't entertained, I would read. Hymnals, witnessing tracts, different versions of the same Book, books on Christianity and Christian Life: I had them all. As a gay teen, some of the hypocrisy and church-y politics started unraveling my belief system, to the point where I no longer relate to most of my family. But this isn't about my opinions of faith or procedure, but rather simply, a book report.
Of course, my personal stance is important in a review such as this, and that's the only reason I've told you any of that. You must know that I am NOT hateful of my upbringing. I have (quite normally for me) just moved on.

Now, the reason I have chosen the Bible for the Cannonball Read 2 is two-fold.
One: Maybe, one day, my family will read my blog and I won't have been such a disappointment. I'll have been given the chance to help someone I've never met, with no expectation of gain, and this small success will counter some of the hurt of which I've been the cause. That I've read the Bible may score me brownie points, one never knows.
Two: Several years ago, my mother sent me a new version of the Bible called The Message/Remix that I find captivating. If anyone has ever compared (say) the King James version to (like) the Living Bible, you'll know what I mean. They can say the same things but in different ways, and sometimes that's a good thing (like signing "i love you") and sometimes it's not (like the English subtitles for "Let The Right One In".)

The Message/Remix (now known as TM/R) was written by Eugene H. Peterson and is sub-titled "The Bible in Contemporary Language".
The author promises that it is "accurate but readable" and as such, has taken out the verse numbers (putting them in the margins, for tracking purposes) and put it all into proper 'novel' form. Unlike the pyscho-poetry-form of the King James, TM/R really is easier to read and enjoy.
Each book has an introduction that explains why that book is there, what it means, what it's trying to say: and these particular intros are not only well-written, but extremely helpful, even to someone like me, who's been taught these stories before.

The Old Testament is full of great visuals, from Creation and the Fall of Man to Noah's Ark, Moses and the Pharoah, Daniel in the lion's den,(etc.) and this edition tells them well, but i was mostly impressed at the language used in the more abstract portions of the Old Testament, for example, the Psalms.
Psalms has always been about proclaiming what It is about God that makes him worthy of being worshipped. It is a songbook that gives us the words to communicate with God. TM/R's translated psalms are both masterful and personal. They made me think and sing. The Bible hasn't meant so much to me in years. I almost wish this Eugene H. Peterson would re-write other books (i'm looking at you, Moliere.)

It seems this review IS more about me than it is about the actual Book. I thought it might be. The Old Testament is some heavy-handed stuff, lots of crazy laws and customs, what I believe to be some rather tall tales, a LOT of begatting. But TM/R made it more digestible.
I'm almost finished with the New Testament now, and it's not only shorter, but has way more Jesus in it. And I like Jesus. Should be an easier write-up too, like watching four identical Christmas specials and some end-of-the-world Emmerich flick in one weekend. Or it may just break me in half. We'll find out together.
I think what I want to express here is that The Message/Remix may sound like a strange name for a Holy Book, but it was a good choice for a satisfying read. If only to say, I gave it my all.

painfully torturous

2009-11-08T21:32:00.000-08:00

"a weekend without internet is like a weekend without all of you."

you may recognize the above quote. i mean, i hope so, because you've just read it. it's from someone i like to call "me" and the "you" in that quote is, well, you.

i don't even want to get into why i didn't have internet. i mean, i spilled it all, but then back-tracked it because it just isn't important.
and dwelling on it would make me murderously irritated all over again.

i do want to say thanks to AvB, who texted me all weekend and kept me from going balls-to-the-wall crazy.
it was a terribly long weekend, what with the no-web-friends, and the busyish-ness at work, and the being-stood-up-for-a-1st-date, and that awful cameron-diaz-the-box movie which was ridiculous.
seriously, without AvB, i would have ended up fully mental. we ended up our weekend affair watching "showgirls" together, yet a million miles apart.
people will say we're in love.
those people are gossip-mongers and must be silenced.
if you want the Whole Story (edited for our convenience), just ask us.

coming up in the next week: my 2-part review of... the Holy Bible!
(see what happens when i have no internet? come for the canaanites, stay for the all-apostles revue!)

totally not dead

2009-11-07T09:28:00.000-08:00

despite rumors to the contrary, i have Not Been Abducted.

fascinating stories of anal probing still neither confirmed nor denied.

i'll be back before you know it.

CR2: Book 2, Bearing An Hourglass by Piers Anthony

2009-11-03T20:17:00.000-08:00

I like a good second-or-thirdhand paperback. I like my pages yellowed, reeking of old smoke. And being the badass I think I am, I like to break All The Rules and judge books by their covers. Just as I can be swayed with a good movie trailer, the bent, ripped cover art of sy-fy (!) and fantasy books call to me at thrift stores and yard sales alike.
This is how I came to own Bearing An Hourglass (which as it turns out is Book 2 of Incarnations of Immortality, what is it with me reading sequels first?) and how I came to love it. As in, I want to marry it. Read it every night, down by the fire. Make sweet sweet butt-love to the Hourglass.
Seriously, I'll be looking for the rest of the series.

Norton hangs out. He goes camping, he meets a ghost. A friendly-ish ghost. Had a wife, but no heir. Wants to hire Norton to father an heir, it's all legal (and it's all spoiler-free because that's just the initial set-up) and Norton is convinced to do the job, but (of course) falls for the widow. It's all very Melrose, but in a world where there are (say) dragons, but also (say) escalators.

Now follow me here. In this "universe", regular humans have some very big jobs. There is a guy who's job it is to be Death. There's a woman (women?) who act as Fate. And wouldn't you know it- Norton, who just bums around all day, gets a chance to be Time.
Along with his little truth-o-meter demon SNake rING (or "sning"), he travels to the ends of time and back and forth a little more and back just a smidge as he tries to get the hang of his new Symbol of Office, the hourglass. The hourglass has all sorts of time-relating powers and can fold up to fit in his pocket. And he has that fabulous cloak (which drew me to the cover) that will age your hand off if you try to grab at him.

I haven't even hit upon the meat of the book yet, the part where Satan (what the hell?) comes and effs things up for Norton, sending him on a quest that has him battling bug-eyed monsters in outer space and saving a winged unicorn.
All the while, LIVING BACKWARDS like some super awesome Benjamin Pitt.

I could go on and on, but it's late. And I have a fire going...

CR2: Book 1, Perelandra by C.S. Lewis

2009-11-01T21:10:00.000-08:00

Starting a book when hungover is never a good idea. What is interesting in concept cover art may not live up to plot-ical expectations when the pounding of your own pulse through your eyeballs makes for a distracting couple of first chapters. But I wanted to get started and have my first book report out of the way and was weak and swayed by the cover. The theme-y synopsis on the back wasn't too appealing ("A sharp, sophisticated fantasy dealing with an old problem- temptation- in a new world...) but what the hell, there's a giant hand breaking forth from the dirt with a Granny Smith apple and some sort of space-gazebo.
I'm in.
Literally, as this book is written in the first person. It's like a wordy videogame I Myself am playing. I can do this.
Sadly, the first chapter has me wandering along somewhere in Great Britain, headed to my friend, Ransom's house. Ransom just got back from Mars. And I get to go interview him or something, it's rather confusing to tell, as it's a three mile trek and I'm talking to myself the entire way...
So, plodding I go and plodding it goes.

Here's what I knew about C.S. Lewis: that Tilda Swinton movie with the Lion that acted like Jesus and the war orphans and James McAlvoy, whom is Ha-ot. I'm thinking, oh a space-y novel by That Guy, from 1944. This could be good.
And it wasn't Too Awful. It just wasn't what I expected.
There I am, making my way to Ransom's house, narrating my journey but not really watching where I'm going, if you catch my meaning. I fall into an ice-coffin-rocket-something and I myself am transported somehow to Perelandra, which we on Earth know as Venus. It's a watery, islandy planet and I go through the motions of getting myself acquainted.
There's a lot of beautiful description of this Venus, if most of it is a bit too flowery and flowy. Most of the land is unfixed in position and sort of drifts. There is flora and fauna, some goofy animals. And then, the main event...
See, there's an English scientist, Professor Weston. Weston was sent by Hell to corrupt Perelandra, rather Lady Tinidril, its ruler. Suddenly, the cover art makes sense, with the man and the woman and the apple. I remember Lewis's faith, catch on to what I'm reading, and can enjoy the rest as a thinly-painted Garden of Eden tale.

All in all, not a boring book, for it had its moments of elation and mystery. I can say that it wasn't too predictable, but only because I hadn't "seen the trailer", so to speak. I want to be the Un-Man next Halloween.
It did have a measure and beat all it's own, and I can't help wondering if I could have read it faster if it was written by someone else entirely. After I started reading, I realized this was actually a second book (Ransom went to Mars in "Out of the Silent Planet") but I don't think reading that one first would have made me enjoy Perelandra any more than I did. I don't think it was trying to be edgy even for the decade it was written. I'll give it a C- and be on my way.

hangover, thy name is geep

2009-11-01T10:08:00.000-08:00

oh, my freaking head.
this coffee sucks. i'm out of peppermint-mocha coffee-mate creamer. how can i possibly make it to the grocery store to buy more in this state?

so, look, i'm totally cute. i'm not stuck-up about it. i'm no supermodel, but i do have my fans. i've always carried a few extra pounds, but i work it with a healthy body-image and you'd be taken back at the level of hotness i can pull off.

as such, i am fully comfortable with you guys seeing me in a moment of non-glory.

it's here!

2009-10-30T22:17:00.000-07:00

i got snickers and milky ways and reese's cups and the minatures and skittles and almond joys and m&ms (peanut and plain) and starburst and tootsie rolls (both chocolate and vanilla)...i am set!
*switches off porchlight*
those neighborhood kids aren't getting jack!

a frightening blunder

2009-10-29T22:06:00.000-07:00

as halloween approaches (slower than christmas, come on already!) i wanted to post this picture of these little knitted thingys and say how excited i am to go to the store and buy a bunch of good candy for myself and some crap for the kids.

i'll also share something quite disturbing that happened not 20 minutes ago. this peek into the window of my life is not for the faint-of-heart, so i must warn you: if you are pregnant or have a heart condition or are one of my canadian-heterosexual-platonic-life-partners, you may want to stop reading.
now.

well, i see each and every one of you is still eyeballin' so i'll go on...

i was just on a website and chatting with someone i've only recently become chatty with. he originally caught my attention with a picture of himself in a beekeeper outfit holding a giant honeycomb (it's not small, no no no).
over the next few randomly-spaced emails, we talked about scary movies we had seen recently, i told him all about my 52 book reports i'm going to be writing in the next year. just getting-to-know-you chitchat. from something vague in his profile, i assumed he was taken, and wasn't really hitting on him. i could have just as easily have been talking to any of you.
and then i got this message that said, "what else you into?"
i thought, ok, that's abrupt, but ok, i can do this. nothing to be ashamed of.

and so i laid it all out. every sordid little thing i like. i rambled on and on about stuff that i wouldn't even want feist to know about. i figured, hey, you asked!

about 10 minutes of nothing happened before his reply: i meant other than watching horror movies.

happy halloween eve, everybody! bite-size milky ways and skittle fun packs for you all!

whore bath

2009-10-28T07:20:00.000-07:00

yesterday, i was sitting there, doing what i do, and suddenly, i didn't have gas.

it seems that even though there's money in the bank, and even though i had received a bill 2 weeks ago, i had totally zoned on paying the gas bill.
i panicked, looked under a pile of books (damn you CR2!) and found the bill, called and paid the bill in total.
it was fully my bad.

i had just got a new stove the day before and wanted to cook on it last night but we ate out instead. having no heat (and it's not *that* cold yet) we sat under blankets and chilled, as it were.

but this morning (and i'll be as descriptive as possible here) i had to microwave a bowl of water to clean myself. and my 2000 areas.
(see, that wasn't so bad)

the gas man (also my ex's nickname) will be around later in the day to turn it back on.

faces

2009-10-23T19:07:00.000-07:00

something strange just happened to me. cindy just updated her pic. and i got so happy.
is it just me or do other people take pride in seeing on-line friends for the first time?
remember when admin finally turned around? so cute.
i could pick dammitjanet out of a Crowd of Crazy People, as long as she was eating cake. i had to find out what deistbrawler looked like through his deviantArt page. Mel is a bottle of Yellowtail. i wish i knew where brite was standing in her profile. Xtreme *used to* try to hide his face, then he turned chickenshit and took the pic down.
i don't know why you people affect me like you do. or why i took my guards down. i come in contact with Hundreds of my close neighbors every single day, but i really don't talk to many RL people with the ease i do around here (and of course, in the pa-motherland).
it's not like i'm shy. i was class clown in school and everyone's favorite trip-toy in college. but as i've gotten older, i'm become a little introverted, if only because i'm weary of being misunderstood. my family is a million miles away, and headed for Heaven. the small family i've made for myself isn't perfect either.
and sometimes, it's just easier to Not deal with any of them.
but Trouble has the best smile and looking at her pic makes me so proud.

wow, it's been a terribly long day and i didn't mean to start all this (damn you, cindy) and i've gone and upset myself and why am i Drinking? i don't ever think i'll get to know what AvB looks like, and i hate myself for publicly announcing that this has made me cry. twice. today.
this is a ridiculous post, i'm sure. i'm afraid to even proof it.
better not.
*click*

warm cookies

2009-10-20T17:51:00.000-07:00

so i rented 'dead snow' with the zombie nazis and 'blood: the last vampire' about some asian girl who kicks ass.

i know i'll have the munchies later.

the prep time on these bad boys was literally 6 seconds.
but the trick is saving some for others.

(i know what you're thinking, screw the others, but what you failed to grasp was that i meant YOU.)

i haved sinned against you

2009-10-18T10:18:00.000-07:00

omg, i was doing the sunday morning usual. i checked emails, i drank some coffee. i felt the kitchen could use a-tidy, but instead i gathered up laundry. i took the dog out. i put away my shoes and collected clothes hangers from every corner of this damn house.
and then, for some reason, i picked up a book sticking out of the top of a box i have on the floor. the book is by john gregory brown and it's called "decorations in a ruined cemetery" and even though that box is specifically set aside for the cannonball read 2 that starts november 1st and even though i Knew It Was Wrong, i read 9 pages of it!
the lake pontchartrain causeway (in louisiana, which i have travelled a ba-jillion times) collapses two lines into the book, for pete's sake. it Sucked Me In.

and i regret it.
suffice saying, i don't have many regrets in my life, but the few i Do Have are biggies: estranging myself from my family, not using a condom with that piece-of-shit-asshole-motherfucker-douchebag-liar-mouth, not appreciating certain people before they were gone.
and i regret reading those 9 pages, and i wanted to come clean. i will be pushing that book back to the end of the cr2. or, following public outcry, dropping it altogether.

could it be...satan?

2009-10-17T22:27:00.000-07:00

uh oh

2009-10-15T20:10:00.000-07:00

someone is Not Happy that the previous post only got one comment.

admin is safe, of course, but the rest of you bitches are on the chopping block. and tonight, there Will Be an elimination and someone Will Be going home.

get 'em, p.d.

a casting couch submission

2009-10-14T21:01:00.000-07:00

re: TK's trade news concerning alex proyas set to direct movies based on john christopher's Tripods trilogy.

for your consideration: paso doble

read this rainbow

2009-10-13T17:21:00.000-07:00

as i pulled up google just now, weirdquotes.com had a quentin crisp quote up. it said, "life was a funny thing that happened to me on my way to the grave." and i can totally hear him saying it.

now, about the cannonball read. i don't want to be all sappy about it, but i have never attempted a year-long goal such as this. i want to complete it, i want to make a difference in a little kid's life.

i have a box of books on the floor, just collected there, making me tight-chested. i didn't know what to pick so i picked everything: classics, sci-fi, true crime, children's poetry, horror.
a year from now, i'll probably be the laughingstock of pajiba.

that or its saviour.

a double take for sarah

2009-10-11T19:25:00.000-07:00

(my pumpkin, 2008)

so i received a text saturday morning 1 a.m. that drunkenly informed me that a) my boyfriend wasn't happy and b) our romantic relationship was at an end. it also said i was awesome and that i was loved, twice.

now, before anyone pities, set-up is needed.

jason and i were together a few years ago, when, after a simple blood test, it was discovered i was infected with a zombie-mutagen government conspiracy (hereafter known as HIV) and jason, by some nasty grace, was not.

we continued to date for a while, but honestly, i needed time to come to terms with some things and he really did too, so we ended it. badly. and didn't speak for a couple of years.

then:
we hooked back up. out of the blue, like nothing ever happened, except we had gotten our individual shit in some sort of order. and we've been dating a little more than a year now, i think, as time really carries on without us.

but we've both become a little passive-aggressive to each other lately, him with a new job and hardly any time, me with my working-6-days/week, trying to organize a date night is ridiculous and what little time either of us has after work is also spent on our own family/friends/bowling/pajiba :)

after talking for just a moment, we just decided quite simply to just hang whenever, without all the pressure.

and tonight i went by for just a couple of hours, watched trick r treat, and had a good time. we were both in good spirits.

possible scam?

2009-10-10T06:43:00.000-07:00

i took a check from a customer at work last night and then got that sinking feeling. would YOU have taken a check drawn from THIS bank???

also, as of a text received at 1am, i am single.

now with even more dickly behavior!

2009-10-08T13:51:00.000-07:00

Q: what kind of bird climbs down out of his tree, walks stealthily behind your back, climbs on top of a floor fan and plops his slop right into the blades!?

A: you're looking at him.

extreme dickishness

2009-10-05T20:34:00.000-07:00

sinbad is the other bird.

where kramer is reserved, slightly dignified and personable, sinbad only wants you to recognize his bad behaviors.

he mimics the sound of the delivery truck backing up, only screechier. he lunges at my face when i'm only trying to feed his ungrateful ass. it is guaranteed he will attempt to draw blood from your hand. if he is in a good mood, it will NOT last. he will flip out on you.

part of his problem is me. i treat him like a dog. i play tug-of-war with him. i harass the hell out of him. i put him in the sink with the water running to chill him out.

that isn't to say that we don't get along. being with them 6 days a week, they've bonded with me. and sinbad regularly climbs out of his tree and finds me wherever i'm working in the store. he's always had his wings clipped and never learned to fly. once, when his feathers got a bit long-ish, i ran back and forth with him as he tried to get a little lift. but about a foot off the ground, he kept putting his feet down.

and i realized what an asshole i'd been trying to teach a bird how to fly.

so we go through our maneuvers every day. i go in to get him out of his cage, he gets hissy. i get kramer out of her cage and put her in the tree. i come back to sinbad and of course, NOW he wants to comply. i kiss him and he tells me hello.

if i buy into his sweet coos, dropping my guard for a moment, his dick-ness is certain to appear.

the slipping of the tongue

2009-10-04T19:04:00.000-07:00

oh, you folks love the animals, do you? well, this is bam bam. not mine, but one i dogsit.

wow, how ghostly white did that camera flush me? like that creepy beaverpuppet skin.

the fruit of service is peace

2009-10-01T20:54:00.000-07:00

i think i'm about to walk away from the computer for the night. just go over there, rest my eyes.

it's been a rough couple of days (roomie in hospital, skitso work schedule, general malaise).

ooo, tomorrow is zombieland.

lab results

2009-09-29T13:57:00.000-07:00

ha! i told you i was healthier than a horse.
got my lab results back today: my white blood cells are up (almost to 600), my viral load is undetectable, and all the other lab checks are normal.

i also had luanne give me a flu shot, complete with a spiderman v. venom band-aid, because i'm a big baby. (please note: any reader of this blog who is NOT in ownership of such an awesome band-aid is a total loser!)

also, just rented "dead girl", as if i wasn't warned.

i'm back, baby!

2009-09-28T12:45:00.000-07:00

so, big gigantic storm last monday. knocked out my internet (because i steal the signal from next door) and JUST got fixed this morning.

was no one worried what had happened to me? BITCHES!

i *was* able to lurk on pajiba with my celly. but no trailers, posting, etc.

just lurking. like i'm a damn lurker!

"what happened to gp?"
"is he dead?"
"did he get eaten by a zombie?"
"did the AIDS get him?"
"was he kidnapped and held for an ungodly amount?"
"i hope he's alright."
"i worry for him too."
"i second the worry."

you all can totally suck it!

also i missed you. yes, you.

stan!

2009-09-20T08:11:00.001-07:00

so, stanley is next in line in my most-blogged about. he's 170-something pounds of big-ass baby. he always looks like he's half-listening, as part of his ear was cut off when he was a puppy to remove a tumor.

despite being scared of Droplets of Water, he is my protector. on one of the few times i didn't have him with me, i had a gun pointed at me. so even though he's always under my feet, i'm happy to trip over him. (as a side, kramer has taken to telling him to go lay down, now, go, go on, in my voice.)

and to my knowledge, he's only ever bitten one person: me. twice. both times in the face. the second time, i didn't deserve it. i was only trying to pull his head out of the trash and he almost took out my eye. i had a thin bloody teardrop making its way down my nose, like i had just caught the zombie-ism.

the first time he bit me, i totally had it coming. i was on top of him, punching him in the side, pulling his ears and cheeks, goading him with kisses and kissy sounds. and then his dad told him to get me. and my whole face was in this big stinky mouth.

also, he pees like a girl.

kramer

2009-09-18T20:21:00.000-07:00

so you may have noticed the green bird on my profile. his name is sinbad and he is a dick!

but this pretty lady right here, this is kramer. she can bite through a wooden broomstick, yet i am the only one who will stick my fingers in her mouth. her tongue feels like a soft pea.

and she's smarter than your average dolphin, upsetting the dog (a post on stanley coming soon), talking smack, whistling along with guns n roses' 'patience'.

the reason i'm posting all this is that it makes me happy to work in a store with a bunch of animals around. sure, the birds are messy, and as much as i complain about sinbad being a dick, he's alright sometimes. except when he is dick-ish, dive-bombing me and shrieking and biting me for no damned reason other than he is a total dick!

kramer just likes attention. and fingertips.

vampires

2009-09-15T20:14:00.000-07:00

i have my labs in the morning. every 3 months, they take what i think are too many vials of blood and they ship it off to somewhere else (transylvania?) and then 2 weeks after that, i go get the results.

i've always had my health.
i had a kidney stone in college, but that is the only time i've ever had to go to the hospital.
i think that because of this, medical-ness wigs me out a little bit.

my irony is this: other than HIV, i've only ever had one other STD (crabs in high school). i went from 'not that bad' to '!!!'

bah. i'm still probably healthier than most of you.

oh shit!

2009-09-14T11:49:00.000-07:00

stores already have entire aisles set up with halloween candy.

i have to figure out what i want to be this year and quick! the boyfriend throws a costume-only bash each year and i need to start getting ready. but nothing is speaking to me.

here's a pic of last years' costume (well, the helmet)

do the paso doble with me

2009-09-12T19:33:00.000-07:00

as i am mentally retarded, i am having to basically teach myself how to work this computer thing. i have gotten some assistance from some of you and i'm grateful.

as i need to learn how to post pictures on my blog, i'm going to experiment a little. if you see my chihuahua (his name is pd, of course) then it will all not have been in vain.

who the hell is guiltypartner?

2009-09-11T18:54:00.000-07:00

so, over the past year or so, i've been completely entranced by the writhing mass that is the pajiba community.

recently, i've de-lurked and found everyone to be rather welcoming.
i've enjoyed reading blogs from several of the regs over there, finding out what people are like and what-not, and as i get better at this (did i mention i'm a stoned idiot?) i'm signing up to follow these fine folks around.

so if all of a sudden, some guiltypartner person starts stalking your blog, it's only gp.

whether or not that's a good thing depends on you.

my three brain cells

2009-09-11T12:55:00.000-07:00

i just came home for lunch and i have TWO followers!

so, i'm still learning how to make a blog, you guys be cool. i want to add myself as a follower to other blogs but haven't figured it out yet. and i'll totally link to pajiba when i learn how.

it's not easy, when i'm a giant dumbass.

woohoo! a canadian haiku!

2009-09-11T06:22:00.000-07:00

no, i'm not going to write one.
one was written ABOUT/FOR my new blog! and i have my first official follower: thanks admin!

so, it's friday morning. i'm drinking coffee and watching people remember 9/11 on the morning news (i watch FOX for my morning news, but only because i have a crush on a morning anchor.) then i have to go shower and head to work. the liquor store won't open its own doors.

i work 6 days a week, with sundays off.
the liquor store is across the street from a college, so my customer base includes lots of students, with a small smattering of crazies, homeless, meth users, etc.
the good thing about my job is i get to meet a lot of my neighbors. the downside to that is i also know their drinking habits.

my boss is also a friend. for reasons i'll get into at a much later date, a few years ago, i quit my job working for The Man, and started working for a friend. it's much less stressful, even though the stresses i do have are of a different nature.

plus, i have animals i get to spend 40+ hours a week with. a great dane. 2 tropical birds. some fish.
people sometimes come in and say "is this a pet store or a liquor store?" and then laugh, like they are the first people to ever say this.
that gets annoying.

i'd like to connect more now, please

2009-09-10T21:41:00.000-07:00

so, i've been commenting on pajiba a lot recently.
and i'm meeting all sorts of interesting people.
and a lot of them have blogs (which is a gross word to say) and i am learning more about these people.

i want a blog!