Story Time: Hee Haw Hockey

😀 Welcome, Dear Reader…

…We have a very special treat in store for you this evening…

… From the (literally) glowing pages of ‘Six in Five in Four‘, a short story from the Okie Devil from Text US, Mr Mars himself…

*Okay Clicky, enough of the organ music already…*

slapshot organist taken out

…’Hee Haw Hockey’ by Cade F.O.N. Apollyon. Enjoy! 😀

*******

Monday 29 May 2017

Dear Mr. Coburn,

In response to your repeated inquires as to my interest in writing my memoirs in conjunction with your co-authorship, I would first like to say that I appreciate your interest in my story. I really do appreciate your interest by the way, as well as your offers of assistance. As to my own personal intentions, over the years, I have had many offers to write my memoirs or an autobiography of some kind. But none of these outside interests have even remotely come close to showing the level of persistence and determination that you have shown in attempting to coax me into telling some of my personal tales. Most suitors simply talk numbers or money, and almost all suitors seem to have come with checkbook in hand, figures in mind, and little else.

I’ve never really had an interest in, nor any experience with writing, except for the occasional poem that I jot down on paper. I’m not very good at typing, although I do own a computer. That said, two nights ago I began to give serious consideration to your proposal. I opened a bottle of Scotch that I’ve been saving for the past four years, and I began to pour through some memories while simultaneously pouring through the bottle. When I had reached the halfway point, and the amount of Scotch remaining was equal to the amount consumed, I garnered the courage to sit down and start typing a bit. I’ve enclosed the first sample chapter that resulted from this writing, and it is included along with this correspondence for your perusal and consideration.

Feel free to let me know what you think, and if you like what you read, perhaps in the future we can work together further.

With Regards,

Daniel “Danno Kerblammo” Kerkhoff

Maybe it’s time we discussed my missing tooth.

I had been a professional hockey player for most my career until I retired at the end of it. I was the top scoring goalie of all time, averaging an average of 16 touchdowns per game…on average. Our team was on its way to our third consecutive NASCAR Winston Cup Championship, and if we could win this final game, we’d achieve it. However, we were playing our old nemeses on their own turf, which was actually ice and not turf, but whatever.

Their lead-defenseman was somehow this old goalie’s personal nemesis, but only because I played more offense than defense, and it pissed this guy off no end that a goalie was scoring all the goals and setting all the records. As a matter of fact, the only scoring record that I didn’t hold, was scoring against myself, which they don’t have a record for. Interesting footnote here – the League considered creating such a category to make things a little more fair for anyone playing us, but the League never did create this rule. Even if they had, I don’t know that I would have started attempting scoring goals against myself out of boredom, nor how that would have helped the other teams if I had.

Anyway, match day finally arrived. It was raining heavily just prior to the game start, and there was concern as to how it would affect our performance as a team. There was even discussion amongst the League officials as to whether the game should be played at all, or postponed until later when the weather cleared. But once we got indoors and inside the enclosed and climate-controlled arena, those fears faded. The game…was on.

The game had been going on since the starter shot a hole in the green flag with a flare gun. It was a massacre. We had scored so many touchdowns in the first 3 first-halves of play, that the officials stopped keeping score. This angered our nemeses who, having not scored a point all night, felt like they were being taunted by the “999” that reflected our score on the three-numbered scoreboard. But that’s as high as it went…so if you’ve got a complaint, contact the manufacturer’s customer service in the off-season.

There were only seven more quarters or so left to play and we were winning. Seeing as to how the score was no longer being kept, I just hovered by the beer cart near the net at my end, where my nemesis couldn’t get at me. Besides I was getting pretty fucking drunk by that point anyway, and the last thing we need in a hockey game is a rugby scrum. Little did I know that’s exactly what we were about to get. I had been averaging over 17 minutes of play-time per quarter during the game, which is weird because there are only 15 minutes in a quarter of play. And now that the game was all but wrapped up, I was averaging 18 beers per quarter, which is pretty cheap for beer.

Anyway…their main forward spun out in turn two, hit the retaining wall at full-speed, but was able to hit the eject button on his roller skates just in time. He was now dangling from his parachute in the rafters, rendering him out for the remainder of the game when they could safely drag the ladders out onto the ice so as to retrieve him without anyone being in danger of getting hurt.

As a result, their team called for “the double-substitution”, which allowed them to switch a defenseman for offense. They were doing so badly by this stage that this was really the only option they had. But since they called the double-sub, this also meant that the player’s stick has also suddenly somehow become defective and/or unusable, and had to be replaced. If no suitable replacement equipment is available, the player in question can use whatever is handy in which to replace the defective hockey stick. Had I known that a rugby tournament had been held in the arena the night before, well, then perhaps what happened next probably wouldn’t have been so confusing to me.

Apparently the night before, one of the rugby players had accidentally left some of their equipment in our nemeses’ pit stall area when their tournament was over. My nemesis hastily grabbed whatever was available from the pile of rugby equipment, and so as you likely have already guessed by now……he came at me with a cricket bat.

I mean, the guy didn’t even have the puck. He just came at me, full speed, with that big ass cricket bat’s business end pointed right at me. I was already so drunk that I assumed it was some sort of trick play. Plus, I had almost half a beer left, so it took me a moment to decide whether to set the cup down and finish it later, or if I had time to slam it back and throw the cup at him before he got to me.

I opted for the latter, and don’t remember much after that. I hear there’s a video of it on YouTube tho. I dunno. I haven’t re-watched it in a long time.

Anyway, I lost a tooth in the process.

Monday June 5th, 2017

Dear Messrs Vosler and Planck,

Please find the enclosed copy of a response received from Mr. Kerkhoff dated May 29, 2017, along with a copy of a sample chapter that Mr. Kerkhoff himself wrote and further included in the correspondence.

I urge your careful consideration in the following:

1. The sample chapter took me aback upon first reading. It appears to be the drunken rambling of an angry person who is potentially bitter about being retired and no longer in the limelight, and constantly harangued about recounting tales of “the good ol’ days”. Admittedly, the more I read, the more my heart sank as I read the sample chapter, figuring it nothing more than a clever exclamation point on an otherwise innocuous rejection letter.

However,

2. I received the letter on Friday (June 2, 2017 – now 4 days ago) and over the weekend, I put my despair aside and I read the “sample chapter” several more times. Admittedly, mostly in disbelief, but I must also admit that I found the writing hysterically funny…like a talltale; nestled in truth, but laced with embellishments to better relate to a particular audience.

It occurred to me,

3. As human beings, we’ve more than “just and only” going on in our lives at any given time. No matter how singular and poignant a particular event may be, much has transpired up to, much transpires during, and much will transpire after. As such, it further occurred to me to consider the difference(s) in…

A) telling a story that had not been told,

B) telling a story that has been told,

C) telling a story that has been told, but has not been told from a certain perspective.

And finally,

4. I was there.

As such, I am now quite encouraged by the response, and think that Mr. Kerkhoff is decidedly on-board with further exploring the idea of writing his biography.

I look forward to hearing from you, and will make no further contact with Mr. Kerkhoff until I hear from your office as to your intentions and/or how I should proceed.

Sincerely,

Stanley Coburn

June 13, 2017

Dear Mr. Coburn,

My services have been retained to represent the firm of Volser & Planck publishing, et. al., regarding the pending matters at hand.

I have been instructed to inform you that:

a. the contract between yourself and Vosler & Planck Publishing has been terminated effective immediately;

b. the terms of the non-disclosure agreement are still in effect and legally binding;

c. you are to surrender all source materials effective immediately;

d. you are to have no direct contact with any employee of Vosler & Planck Publishing, and any/all future correspondence should be directed to my offices.

Please enclose and return original copies of any/all correspondence between yourself and Daniel Kerkhoff, as well as any/all source materials and correspondences between yourself and my clients, and return them to my offices at your earliest convenience.

Once the materials have been submitted to this office, this matter will be considered closed.

Thank you for your attention to this and these matters.

Yours sincerely,

Rafael de Gunst Esq.

Raleigh & de Gunst LLC, Attorneys at Law

June 20th, 2017

Dear Mr. de Gunst,

If you want them, come and get them.

Regards,

Stanley Coburn

Tuesday 27 June 2017

Dear Mr. Coburn,

Just checking in to see if you had received/read my earlier correspondence, and if so, what your thoughts were.

Sincerely,

Daniel Kerkhoff

Monday July 3, 2017

Dear Mr. Kerkhoff,

I appreciate your taking the time to respond. I admit that I was a bit taken aback to get a reply after my previous unsuccessful attempts at contacting you.

After stifling my joy at originally getting a response from you, and after further attempting to cease both my almost endless howling laughter at your included story, as well as my confusion as to it’s meaning, I quickly repackaged your correspondence and sent the contents along to my publisher, as per their instructions.

I do not know if you are aware I was under contract with Vosler & Planck Publishing with a preliminary agreement to publish your memoirs, should you choose to write them. I can only assume at this point that if you were previously unaware, you have likely been made aware of my association with Vosler & Planck by now. While it is true that I would have potentially co-authored the book with you and the book would have actually been published, in many regards I myself am quite lost as to the particulars of where everything in this endeavor became so shady.

I had been instructed by Vosler & Planck via their representatives to speak to no one of these goings on, as to do so will violate the nondisclosure agreement that I had signed with them. I assume that “not speaking with anyone” also includes you, and that is why I never mentioned my association with them to you in the first place. They were adamant that I tell no one of what I was doing, and since you never responded to any of my queries, it never occurred to me to perhaps mention that there were publishing houses interested in my idea and your story. But as stated, I’m still a shade in the dark as to the particulars of how things became so muddy. Being a novice writer, and also being a hockey fan who has followed your career, I just wanted to write a story that no one else had written, nor did anyone else seem to have any interest in writing.

Several years ago, I simply wrote a proposal along with several sample chapters of my own based on your Hockey career, and shopped that around to several publishing houses. I was undecided at the time as to whether to attempt a biography, and also included within the proposal that perhaps an autobiography co-authored by me might also be a potential option should I be able to court you into writing one. I heard nothing back from any of the publishers to whom I submitted the proposal. But eventually, Vosler & Planck did respond. Within days, several other publishing houses had responded, and I even began receive letters and offers from publishing houses to whom I did not even submit proposals. I went with Vosler & Planck simply because they were the first to respond, as well as their reputation of being a somewhat large but reputable establishment.

I will save your further grief by attempting to explain further at this time. But irrespective of whether or not I wind up in prison for willfully violating my confidentiality agreement, I will attempt to pass along any new information, assuming that it becomes available and appears noteworthy of mention.

I don’t necessarily doubt Vosler & Planck’s integrity at this point; however, I admit to questioning my own, although I am still unsure exactly as to why. I did feel it prudent to warn you in advance that I may have somehow stirred up a hornets nest, for lack of a better term. I am unsure what this means to you, nor could mean to you, but felt that a heads-up might be the right thing to do.

At a minimum, you won’t be getting letters from me every few weeks, and I hope that in itself at least brings you some measure of relief. I apologize for pestering you for these last four years.

Sincerely,

Stanley “Won’t Be Writing You Anymore” Coburn

P.S. – I’m sorry about your lost tooth. I was actually in the crowd watching the game the night that happened. I don’t recall most of the events transpiring as you’ve described. But I also admit that, as far as I remember anyway, your “fantastic” description of events is not that far off-base from what actually happened. I was thrilled to see you win The Cup, even though I am actually, at heart, a Red Wings fan.

Friday 21 July 2017

Dear Mr. Coburn,

In a few days, you will be receiving an envelope in the mail. This envelope will contain a round-trip plane ticket from Detroit, where you live, to Toronto, where I live. The ticket is open-ended, and should you consider accepting my proposal, you may travel at any time you so desire, should you decide to entertain my proposal.

If I may be so bold as to call you Stanley, I would like to do so now, as should you agree to entertain my proposal, I would appreciate your calling me Daniel when and if you arrive in Toronto. It’s at this point in this letter that I’m going to take a leap of faith, break some protocol(s), and quasi-start this correspondence over.

Stanley, although my name is not on the door, I am a partner in Vosler & Planck Publishing and have been for some time. I also own interests in several other publishing firms, and even own several small book stores in The USA and Canada. A man has to do something after hockey, right? And I’d already spent plenty of time in that particular circus. A few years before that game we both attended in Detroit, and as retirement approached, I began to weigh and consider my options.

Books and reading are a love of mine. As such, a friend of mine named Clive Vosler suggested that perhaps I get involved with his firm, but suggested that perhaps I first find a small book store in which to invest or purchase. “Help prop up some starving book lover who is teetering on the verge of financial ruin, and you’ll find out whether or not you actually love books or not,” is what I recall Clive saying to me.

I did so, found that my love of books was not diminished and eventually bought-into Vosler & Planck, becoming a partner with the understanding that the name of the firm remained the same. As a professional athlete, and especially as “an athlete of note”, my name and likeness had already been printed, stamped and otherwise splattered all over commercial products of all kinds. I had no desire to see my name on yet another product, even if it was a non-hockey related product or enterprise. Hence, there was no fuss over the name and names nor ordering, nor was there any instability implied due to change, and the firm remained firmly Vosler & Planck Publishing.

As you are likely aware, I’ve been retired from hockey for some time now. When my wife suggested that I write my memoirs, I was suddenly presented with a paradox: can a publisher publish his own story? I said nothing to my business partners, but ironically, just two days after my wife’s suggestion, I got a phone call from Albert Planck stating that something come across his desk that might interest me. I told him to send it to me, and as it turns out, it was your sample chapters and proposal.

I did not know what to think of this coincidence at the time, but I found it quite strange to the point of almost being unnerving. I had only recently watched a documentary on television about the life of U.S. General Ulysses S. Grant, and there were stories about Grant being taken advantage of throughout his life due to his trusting nature, and perhaps some naivete on his part. Needless to say, the road has been a strange one these past four years that you’ve been corresponding with me. I’ve stayed pretty much to myself and my home contemplating and writing. And yes, unbeknownst to you, I’ve been writing my memoirs these past four years. I would very much like for you to begin reading them and let me know what you think.

Hence, I would appreciate your coming to Toronto to meet with me personally and perhaps we can figure out if we can actually do this and how.

I also feel it necessary for me to mention that there has indeed been some shady goings on, but none of those affect you and I know that you were not involved in any way. In fact, it’s becoming increasingly clear that, even though you most assuredly did not know it, you are one of the few friends that I’ve actually had over the past few years. I grew to know that I could count on your letters, and have looked forward to each and every one. Even though I never sent them, I’ve responded to each and every one, and you are free to read those/I will make them available to you if you so choose. They may not only shed some light on the current goings on, but might make an interesting story in and of themselves.

I again apologize that I cannot go into too much more detail in the space available here. But if you decide to come, I have included a phone number in this correspondence, and ask that you contact my assistant so that she can let me know when and if you are coming. Her name is Rossalyn.

Sincerely,

Daniel

P.S. – If you keep your eye on the news, and certainly if you’re are a member of an online writing community, it’s likely that by now you’ve already seen some of the goings on with not only Vosler & Planck, but also some other related and seemingly unrelated businesses, so hopefully, that will help make some of this rambling of mine make more sense. But there’s much more to tell.

P.S.S. – It’s quite the story you’ve blundered into here Stanley. Me, too.

*******

*/claps hands…*

Many thanks to Cade for allowing the LoL to post ‘Hee Haw Hockey’. We hope you enjoyed it, Dear Reader, and just to let you know that the next Underdog Anthology will be published in time for Halloween…

hockey goal

*That is the goal, Clicky…*

…Have a Song ❤

On The Lash: Off The Leash

Enormous chair

I have had a fantastic holiday away from The Tower this past fortnight, Dear Reader. Aside from writing a Halloween story for the next Underdog Anthology, I have spent my time remote viewing, with Cade, a shit-ton of movies from my ‘To Watch’ list. To be honest, we barely scratched the surface. I’d provide a comprehensive account of them all, but to do that would take a fuck-ton of Twitter DM scrolling, and the remainder of my holiday…

*And that’s only from yesterday, Clicky… /lights upSo much good stuff… /drags…*

*Mmm, hot chocolate… /blows smoke ring… That’s a bleedin’ good movie, Clicky… /flicks Ash… They all are…*

Legs and Roob selfie catching up

*PANoptica, PAMoptica? …/draws in smoke… TiTANic TITania?*

TIT at the top is the client going the long way round

*Heh. Well, we’re certainly going the long way round, Clicky… /rolls eyes… that’s foreshore…*

Cade and Roob selfie remote viewing 5Cade and Roob selfie remote viewing 6

*Yeah, Josephine takes over her husband’s cafe and revamps it at the end of Chocolat… /drags... Calls it ‘Armande’… /plumes smoke…  after Judi Dench’s character…*

*Pivotal… /final drag… Hey, I listened to Lashy’s latest talk, Clicky… /streams smoke… and he don’t seem that interested in decoding the Mandela Effect anymore… /stubs butt… Gotta say, I fink that’s a mist ache…*

Anyhoo, Dear Reader, I’m off now to enjoy what’s left of my holiday. It ain’t over ’til it’s over, as they say… Well, you know 😉 Have a Song…

 

The E-Motion Potion

*Interesting choice of Song, Clicky… /pat snout… ‘Cos of what Frank wrote me last night in the Red universe? …/rolls up…*

Merovee Selfie with Frank and MJ 1Merovee Selfie with Frank and MJ 2Merovee Selfie with Frank and MJ 3

*/puts rollie to lips… Welcome to the Jung Gal? …/flicks lighter… Don’t. You’ll make me laugh… /lights up… and that’ll make me cough… /drags… and I don’t need the wee seepage right now, thank you very much… *

*Clicky! That’s Jeremy Irons singing… /taps ash… He’s in one the the double bill of movies Cade and I watched last night… /puffs… and what this post is supposed to be about… /rolls eyes… If I ever fuckin’ get round to start writing it…*

Dear Reader, I am on holiday now for the next two weeks. Underdog Anthology VI: The Gallows Stone – is due out for Halloween and I haven’t written anything for it yet…

Roob catches Legs up her evening 1Roob catches Legs up her evening 2

… Last night, instead of writing, I accepted Cade’s invitation to watch some movies. Well, I am on holiday 😉 We each picked a film that we’d really enjoyed watching, but that the other hadn’t seen. First up was Cade’s pick of ‘Moneyball’, ostensibly about baseball…

‘In the film, Beane (Brad Pitt) and assistant GM Peter Brand (Jonah Hill), faced with the franchise’s limited budget for players, build a team of undervalued talent by taking a sophisticated sabermetric approach towards scouting and analyzing players.’

*237 eh, Clicky? …/smokes… Kinda Shining…*

… Followed by my flick pick of ‘Margin Call’…

‘The principal story takes place over a 24-hour period at a large Wall Street investment bank during the initial stages of the financial crisis of 2007–08.In focus are the actions taken by a group of employees during the subsequent financial collapse.’

Both movies were released in 2011, and both movies were about the same things: interpretation of numbers, risk management and being first with a paradigm-shifting break through…

… Or breakout…

…And the logistics required to build something up, or to tear it down…

*Sullivan… /final drag… I spent 16 years as a PA to a Construction Logistician called Sullivan… /stubs butt… He definitely had some paradigm-shifting ideas… /streams smoke…*

I can highly recommend both movies, Dear Reader, especially if you have time to view them in one sitting. Tomorrow I shall start writing a story for the UAVI, but for tonight, Cade has recommended a horror film for us to watch. To help get me in the mood, so to speak…

*No, I can’t believe I’ve never seen it before either, Clicky… /pats snout… Now be a love and get something suitable to end with…*

I’ll be certain to let you know how the stories are coming along, but until then, Dear Reader… Have a Song 😀

Someday Girl

someday (adv.)

“at some indefinite date in the future,” 1768, from some + day.

MISS SOMEDAY.

Poor Charley wooed, but wooed in vain,

From Monday until Sunday;

Still Cupid whisper’d to the swain

“You’ll conquer Betsey Someday.”

[“The Port Folio,” June 1816]

*Hello, Clicky… /lights up… That’s a good quality vid… /drags… Who uploaded it?*

MadFranko008 posts Blondie Sunday Girl on YT

*Figures… /rolls eyes…*

Good afternoon, Dear Reader. Yesterday I received a care package from my friends Legs and Poppy. Fortunately, I knew it was coming…

Leggy tweets Roob about a mystery gift

So one parcel, Dear Reader, containing three items, one of which was a mystery thing, and two were signed. Let’s look at each in order…

Samuel’s Girl

I’d recently given a copy of ‘Six in Five in Four‘ to my IT Director at work. For his holiday; he was going sailing for a week, and so in desperate need of a collection of short stories, for dipping into when not doing important things with ropes and sails…

Roob tells Leggy about Nick

Samuel's Girl Signed To Nick

*/puffs… Kit Kat does take nice photos with his phone, Clicky…*

Mad Men

Mad Men Expanded

Although Poppy’s DVD gift was not a mystery, Dear Reader, it did have an element of surprise…

Mad Men in Danish

*/flicks ASH… Utter madness, Clicky… /drags… Still the play’s the…*

Mystery Thing

The third item in the care package was indeed signed, Dear Reader, but it wasn’t a book…

Hi Ruth

Final got this posted! The book and DVD are in the bottom of the box. On top is something I had no idea what to do with, so I thought “I know, I’ll lumber Ruth with it.” So here it is 😀

Six in Five in Four Original Artwork Signed

Do with it as you will, it probably burns well 😉

Kevin

Leggy had sent me his original artwork for the cover of ‘Six in Five in Four’! On the reverse, written faintly in pencil, were the names of all six Anthology authors, alongside their alchemy symbol. Thing Two, a.k.a. Kit Kat, was most intrigued by this; he even took a copy of the book away to read…

snoopy faint

*I know! …/stubs butt… That’s all it fucking took to get him interested, Clicky…*

Leggy tells Roob to go hang

I’ve hung Leggy’s book cover artwork in pride of place, Dear Reader, above the place where I lay down… my head to sleep… perchance to dream…

Bedroom Wall

Have a Song ❤

 

New Ham Let: ‘Cos Play’s The Fing

*/lights up… Afternoon, Clicky… /drags… Feeling Old Skool, are we? …/streams smoke…*

I saw a tweet earlier today, Dear Reader…

*’rollie stone’… /:D… *

Franglish Monkey Sync Sense goes for Smiles

Having a fascination with ‘signs’ and ‘syncs‘, I was interested to see, just how far the UK had “sunk”, so I clicked and started to read

‘ROLLING Stones guitarist Keith Richards proved he’s still got plenty of puff left — after being given permission to smoke on stage.

‘The 74-year-old rocker was seen having a crafty cigarette during the band’s show in London this week — aptly called their No Filter tour.

‘He was cheered by the crowd of 70,000 at The London Stadium in Stratford as he lit up, flouting the strict no smoking rule.’

GOSH

*/thinks and smokes… 70,000 people applauding the lighting of a cigarette, against the rules? In a stadium, Clicky, some believe hosted a magikal ceremony… /smokes and thinks… I wonder if the magik was intended as a one-off thing, or if the potential lingers longer than anticipated?*

*Butt then aren’t we all born a bit slippy, Clicky? …/blows smoke rings…*

The next bit of the article I found particularly interesting, Dear Reader – the Local Authority expounds on the issue…

‘But Newham Council said it would not be taking any action because smoking was part of the act. ‘Smoking on stage is permitted “where the artistic integrity of a performance makes it appropriate for a person to smoke”, therefore no action will be taken,’ it added.’

*As You Like it… /final drag… Underworld may have directed the music but Shake Sphere’s Tempest formed the basis of that magikal ceremony in 2012, Clicky… /fills air with smoke… And he’s still going…*

ode-by-a-smoking-brexiteer

*Smoking is an art, Clicky… /stubs butt… Sonnet 6+6+6… Ya Ken?*

Time for a Song, Dear Reader. Enjoy rest rest of Whitsun ❤

*Really, Clicky? I’d have had money on you going with a Stones Song…*

Missive From ‘Merica: With ADDED WOO

Been on a bit of cultural exchange these past two weeks, Dear Reader…

Adventure Time

*Indeed, Clicky! …/pats snout…*

… Whereby I’ve been introducing The Okie Devil of Text Us to Doctor Who

*It’s been an Utter joy, Clicky, bouncing around time and space with Cade… /lights up… Seeing things anew…*

… And in return, he has introduced me to Doowdaed

*No shit! It’s called Deadwood?! …/rubs eyes… Actually, Clicky, that does makes more sense… /drags…*

… And we’ll continue with more of that later today…

*/coughs… I ain’t shown him that one yet! …/taps ash… Mind you… /smokes… touch and hearing in one clip, Clicky? Fucking clever!*

Woo Hoo

In the meantime, Cade has very kindly sent a missive for us all to enjoy, Dear Reader…

*******

giphy

Where have I been?

Where have YOU been is likely a more appropriate question.

I've been taking a break.

Getting my bikini figure into shape for Bikini Season.

Let’s remedy that.

^DJ Shredda – Chainsaw (The Crow Mix)^

Let me come clean. I’ve been avoiding anything and everything on the web, except Twitter, and I’ve been doing that for the last few months. I don’t care what it is, I don’t want to see it, and I don’t want to hear it. Those “pokes from else and/or elsewhere” have gotten too numerous. My feet, legs and hips are cramping almost non-stop, and it fucking hurts.

So yeah...vacation. 

I keep thinking about some 16 year old girl shooting herself. Can’t get it out of my fucking head. That, and this goddamn anti-smoking bullshit. Oh, and I’m trying to write. So there’s that. I also keep swirling around swirls. That has led me to some interesting thoughts on “flat space(s)”, so I’m gonna ramble about some of that…

assuming it's A-O-fucking-K with you.
^Acid Fighter (DJ Crow Remix) – Soundgrabber^


So what’s up with you where you are? It’s snowing outside here. Gonna put my cold weather gear on in a bit, go outside, and make a video. I doubt very seriously that most fucks are going to believe that it’s snowing in North Texas in late April, but it is. Once I make the video, we’ll have proof, the case will be solved forever, and there will be no reason to argue about the truth of spring snow(s) in Texas. I’ll keep you posted on where you can view the video.

^DJ The Crow meets DJ Arne LII – The Speed (Überdruck Mix)^


Why in the fuck would anyone care if North Korea/South Korea reunified? You running low on shit to talk about? Running low on shit to worry about? East Germany and West Germany got back together.

Maybe if you fucks would stop thinking in terms of big and small, you could actually focus. Or at least, make some discernment(s) as to what focus is.

Which reminds me, I got to thinking about the nature of focus with respect to membranes, and it got me to thinking about what is required to stretch a something so thin, that it results in the reduction of mass in certain sectors of the stretched membrane in such a way as to detract/reduce scale. Meaning, the reduction in mass does not cause a fundamental change in anything except scale.

Shrinking. 

Basically, a chain of say…Oxygen atoms…have become so stretched, all while retaining their relational bonds, that some atoms begin to shrink in scale. Methinks we are stumbling into/onto some gravity/anti-gravity kinds of things here.

^Norman Bass – How U Like Bass? (Warp Brothers Club Mix)^

Thinking more in terms of contextual processes that are created for the purpose(s) of creating something that does not currently exist, there are certain things that we can accept as being, for the most part…normal. Like say, the creation of a house using wood, that starts with the chopping down of a tree, and is followed by the chopping down of more trees.

Pretty normal sounding right? 

Welp, what about slamming sub-atom particles together at near the speed of light using the machines that we build in order to achieve this? Is that normal? Or can we consider it “normal” to qualify these activities as…abnormal.

Q: Is “sawdust” considered waste?

A: ???

Do we have processes in place to adequately deal with the ongoing sawdust issue(s)? Have we taken steps? Addressed concerns? Is the matter settled?

^Crash Bass – Hardshake^

Let’s focus

Focus (Optics)

Let’s get more focused

   Focus

We on the same page?

Let us turn it
^Gary Beck – Say What (Adam Beyer Remix) [SAVED RECORDS]^

I wonder how many membranes are breached in order to perform an “average” surgery.

Fascia
Fibromyalgia
Crystal Habit (Redirected from Fiberous habit)
Fiber
Dietary Fiber
Biodegradable Waste
Tortuous
Tortuosity
Tortious Interference
Tortuosamine
What Is a Tortuous Artery?
Twisted Blood Vessels: Symptoms, Etiology and Biomechanical Mechanisms

So can we assume that there is a difference between a perforation and a cut/incision? What about a stretch or strain? Wouldn’t an incision by a laser be both a perforation and a cut? No to mention the burn(ing).

^Hanayo – Joe le Taxi^


It’s just passed noon on Saturday April 28, and I’ve not been sleeping well. I’ve been dreaming non-stop for months now, but I guess its the season change that is currently fucking me up. I went on a 5 day drinking bender last week, and it did me some good. But still not sleeping very well. Guess I’m sweating heading to Austin a bit. Leaving for Austin soon, and looking forward to it, but also kinda nervous. The dynamics of the trip have suddenly changed. I’ll survive it tho. May even have some fun.

/me shrugs

On the up side, I’ve got the fever to write.

On the down side, I’m gonna be without my computer for a while.

I guess it's time to break out the pen and paper.

OH! I’ve got three stories in the new Underdog Anthology which was published this last week.

UAV front cover all named

I guess I need to write a post on it on my own goddamn blog.

^M83 ‘Midnight City’ Official video^


Got to thinking about the referential dynamics of gene sequences the other day, and the numbers went from “ridiculous” to “incomprehensible” almost immediately.

Picture This: two identical strands of DNA. One of these strands is located in the heart, and the other is flowing within the bloodstream. Now, imagine these two strands in relation to one another. Now think about the sequence in each strand. Do the sequences remain constant? What about in relation to each other?

I mean, we are talking more about cryptography/cryptology than we are about relationships or gene sequences/gene sequencing, so what about discretion, distinction and/or discrimination? Is there potentially some magic in the spacial relationships and orientations of identical things? What about like things? Similar not same kinds of things?

Cryptography
Discernment
Discernment of Spirits
Discrimination

So yeah, if you get two identical things together, what are they now?

Spooky action at a distance?

Or does the action always and forever need to follow a predefined path?

^Boy Harsher — Pain^

Was talking to a certain someone this week about “GUT”, and espoused that this particular pursuit is going to have to include multiple elements, and that the omission of a simultaneous “constructive/destructive” is likely why these efforts to construct a unification continues to fail and/or be elusive.

Grand Unified Theory

Whatever this “GUT” winds up being will have to have contextual nature, and I added Earth/Terra and Sun/Sol distinctions.

EX: The GUT on Earth/Terra will not be applicable on Mars, and the GUT on The Sun/Sol will differ from the GUT on Earth/Terra. We are in motion, and the only constant state appears to be that of “change” and/or “changing”, depending on where you are and when.

Perspective(s).

So yeah, there is likely a metric shitload of fucktons of galactic considerations that also need to be made. Maybe The Zodiac ain’t such a stretch afterall, eh? I mean, if these distant gamma ray bursts are suddenly of global concern because we can now see/detect them, that means that they’ve always been a concern. So I got a question for you…

Q: What’s your fucking hurry?

A: ¿?¿

Maybe if you fucks weren’t so goddamn wrapped up in the fatalistic ends of the more modern interpretations Darwinian theory/theories, you wouldn’t be so fucking anxious to win your very own Darwin Award, and take the rest of us with you in the process.

^Kiesza – Hideaway (Official Video)^

Yes, I am suggesting that certain sectors of science seem to be pretty goddamn fatalistic. I mean fuck, we can get that fatalism bullshit from religion. We don’t need it from you too.

But you’re free to do what you want.

Blow it all up.

😐
^Azari & III – Hungry for the power (Jamie Jones remix)^

 My brain hurts.

Imma go get something to eat, then video the snow for anyone who wants to see it.

^’I FINK U FREEKY’ by DIE ANTWOORD (Official)^

cYacFa

^Hey Boy Hey Girl (Soulwax ‘2 Many DJ’s’ Remix)^

*******

Feeding time

*Yeah, I’m hungry too, Clicky… /stubs butt… Let’s get sumfin to eat…*

Dear Reader? CYL… 😉 …and have a Song ❤

137: Pointlessly Exercised

Seams, Dear Reader, that the Dez Rez Prez of Trump Town is to pay a visit to Old Blighty on 137

*/lights up… Hey, Clicky, didn’t I see sumfin ’bout spoons earlier? …/drags…*

*Sounds like a good idea… /exhales smoke… Butt it DON’t say ‘working visits’…/coughs… He probably DON’t have to go through those detector thingies anyway… /taps ash…*

*Heh! …/reflects on curling smoke… You know, I used to go out with a Gareth Jones, Clicky… /drags… 1985… Year of Five Boyfriends… /streams smoke… He came from Wales…*

Kit Chien Sink

*Oh fuck yeah! …/grins… He gave me a loving spoon… /slurps cherry Coke… Still got it, overlooking the Kit Chien sync…*

… Sew, I was chatting to my friend and Welsh Dragon publisher, Leggy, about the visit last night on Twitter…

Roob and Legs convo 1

*Flashback eh, Clicky? …/drags…*

Merovee selfie 090315 Roob telling Vik Roof was robbed

*…/blows smoke… The burglars were much tidier than the car thieves… /flicks ASH…*

 

Roob and Legs convo 2Roob and Legs convo 3Roob and Legs convo 4

*/shakes head… Funny how he’s all up for exercising ‘free speech’ when it comes to stuff… /final drag… he don’t like himself… /expels smoke…*

Roob and Legs convo 5Roob and Legs convo 6

*/stubs butt… If the mercury’s rising, Clicky… /rolls eyes…*

UAV About Roob page Mercury Rising

*Ah! …/beams… Nice way to promote Underdog Anthology V, Clicky… /pats snout…*

Dear Reader… Have a Song 😉

 

 

 

Crossing the Date Line

*Coming out of what, Clicky? …/lights up rollie and drags…*

UAV front and back cover

*/puffs contentedly…*

At last, Dear Reader, the Underdog Anthology V is published

*Knot a graphic novel, Clicky… /streams smoke… Short stories, many authors…*

… I’d been speculating with Leggy late on Friday as to the date it might appear…

Legy and Roob talk UAV and dates 1

… The first ‘event’ listed in the Wiki link – ‘The Year of SIX Emperors’…

LONE-STAR-1

*Five pointed star! I was thinking of The Okie Devil of Textus… /flicks ash… Cade’s got stories in the book. I didn’t even think of that, Clicky… /pats snout… What did I list next?*

Legy and Roob talk UAV and dates 2

*/drags… 19 Four-Tees… /blows smoke ring… Nineteen stories…*

*Three? …/squints… Sew, inadvertently, Leggy and I counted down six, five, four three… /final drag…*

Legy and Roob talk UAV and dates 3

*2, 1… /stubs butt… Hey, how about that ‘wolf trap‘, Clicky?*

Legy and Roob talk UAV and dates 4

 

Strangely enough, Dear Reader, if you go check out UAV’s listing on Amazon – and I suggest you doo 😉 – it’s published date is 20th April

facepalm

*Oh I dunno, Clicky… /lights up… 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, 0… /grins…*

Have a Song 😉

Who Noob Tales: Nine Lives… No, Really

I am having a long weekend, Dear Reader. I spent yesterday daytime making final edits to stories in the soon-to-be-published ‘Underdog Anthology V: Six in Five in Four’. Leggy has a preview, in which he includes one of his stories from the book…

Old Peculier on the neighbours cat

*/grins… How peculiar, Clicky… /lights up…*

peculiar (adj.)

mid-15c., “belonging exclusively to one person,” from Latin peculiaris “of one’s own (property),” from peculium “private property,” literally “property in cattle” (in ancient times the most important form of property), from pecu “cattle, flock,” related to pecus “cattle” (see pecuniary). Meaning “unusual” is first attested c. 1600 (earlier “distinguished, special,” 1580s; for sense development, compare idiom). Related: Peculiarly.

wiki peculier

*’Also KT and KH’…/drags… No shit! …/streams smoke… *

Then last night Cade and I resumed his introduction to Doctor Who, and also caught up with Leggy and Poppy… Les amis…

Poppy and Roob discuss Cades Who Introductory Course 1

Poppy and Roob discuss Cades Who Introductory Course 2Poppy and Roob discuss Cades Who Introductory Course 3Poppy and Roob discuss Cades Who Introductory Course 4

rare doctor who hand flap

*/flicks ash… Knot a favourite episode, Clicky… /drags… although, excellent use of a jammie dodger… /blows smoke rings… I’d forgotten about that…*

Poppy and Roob discuss Cades Who Introductory Course 5

Poppy and Roob discuss Cades Who Introductory Course 6Poppy and Roob discuss Cades Who Introductory Course 7

*Like the villain, House, in The Doctor’s Wife, Clicky, Daleks are a bit like a sea anemone… /puffs… “hard on the outside, squishy on the inside”… I hadn’t made that connection before… /taps teeth…*

Anyhoo, in honour of Old Peculier’s neighbour’s cat, Dear Reader, and seeing as a ‘cat‘ won today’s Grand National, I thought I’d take a leaf out of Leggy’s book – pun intended – and post one of my stories from UAV. It’s short and called ‘Nine Lives’. The Knot-Sew confidential making of it can be found here. Enjoy!

*******

NINE LIVES

Karl sat at his kitchen table, smoking and observing the tendrils of early morning mist gently tickle the tops of the garden hedge, before continuing their soft creep to the ground. It was dark outside but the lawn glittered with stars; pregnant dew drops nestling in the grass caught the thin, amber light that spilled from the kitchen window. He stubbed out his cigarette and gulped back the last dregs of cold tea from his mug with a grimace. Not long now, Karl thought, she’ll be home soon. Outside the mist started to swirl and pool.

He stood up and stretched, bones creaking and knees popping as if to salute the end of his vigil. He fleetingly considered that he was getting too old for this malarkey, but she needed a watcher – someone to light the way back. He could bear the discomfort; it was only for the night. Karl rubbed his eyes under his glasses, and dragged his hands down over bristled cheeks to wipe any tiredness away. He contemplated putting the kettle on when he heard the first high pitched bark puncturing the dark. The second got him moving. “Not the foxes again!”

As he opened the back door, the wet slap of morning air to hit Karl’s face was accompanied by a rude crash and skitter of a dustbin lid falling, somewhere in the mist. She’s coming from the right, he thought, opening the door wider to peer out into the murk. More barks, louder this time, and a fiery hiss, were followed by the sound of clambered wood, as the garden fence shook violently. Karl held the door further ajar, and a white streak shot out of the mist and between his legs, into the kitchen.

Karl closed the door on the mist and the foxes who, by the sound of it, were now rummaging through next door’s bin for tasty scraps. He turned to the slight figure, lying on the kitchen floor. “For goodness sake, Lara, do you have to tease the foxes? It upsets the neighbours.”

“It upsets the bins,” Lara replied, lightly panting as she rolled over and attempted to sit up. “No, they were waiting for me. Foxes are not called cunning for nothing, Karl.”

“Yes, but they usually leave you alone when you’re hedge riding.”

Lara sighed. “It would seem witches aren’t held in much esteem these days. Not by people or wildlife.”

Karl surveyed the flush in his wife’s cheeks and her glittering eyes, and thought she still looked pretty formidable considering her advanced years. He also noticed the shudder in her arm propping her up. “You should get off the floor. What would you like, sofa or chair?” he asked, scooping her up, with barely a tremble from his own geriatric limbs.

“Sofa,” Lara replied with a wan smile. “Thank you, dear. And a cuppa and a ciggie wouldn’t go amiss either.”

“Funnily enough, I was just about to put the kettle on,” Karl replied, before lowering his wife, so she could reach out and pluck the cigarette packet and lighter from the kitchen table. A fat bead of blood splashed onto the surface below, quickly followed by another. “You’re injured?”

“Damn foxes.” Lara winced and drew her arm back toward her chest. “One of them managed to get a mouthful of armpit. I don’t think it’s too deep. Just stings a bit.”

“But you’re bleeding,” Karl said gruffly. Too gruffly, he feared, from the look his wife shot him. “Okay, let’s get you comfortable and then I can clean that up,” he continued in a more conciliatory tone, before carrying her through to the front room.

Karl noticed that Lara was already on her second cigarette when he returned five minutes later, to set out a bowl of hot water, soap, flannel and towel on the carpet before her. “Kettle’s on for tea,” he said kneeling down. He adjusted his glasses and gingerly started to lift Lara’s elbow. “Can’t let it get infected, how would we explain that to Dr Patel?”

“I can always change back so you can take me to a vet,” Lara replied sharply, pulling away from his grasp.

She must be in great pain, Karl thought. “Come now, dear, we don’t have pet insurance. We don’t own a pet.” Lara’s eyes briefly flashed at his riposte, but her body relaxed and she allowed him to lift her arm. “So apart from getting into a fight with some foxes…”

“Ambushed by some foxes,” Lara quickly corrected him.

“Sorry, ambushed by some foxes on the way home, how was the rest of your night?”

Lara took a deep drag from her cigarette. “Well it started off okay,” she said, billowing a great cloud of smoke. “I went to see Annie and girls down at Saint Michael’s.”

“And how are Annie and the girls?” Karl asked as he cleaned her wound of blood.

“Dead.”

“Naturally.” Any bleeding seemed to have stopped, but the swelling around the punctures had already started to bruise, turning an angry black mauve that only truly flourished on elderly skin. Karl stopped himself flinching at the sight. “You’d think they’d get themselves a spirit cat.”

“They’ve got a spirit cat,” Lara gently rebuked him with a chuckle.

“A ghost cat, then.” Karl smiled at her mirth. “You know what I mean.”

“Oh a ghost cat would be just as stuck as they are. Graveyards are lonely places, Karl. The residents like the company and the gossip. Especially the newly interred. Once the funeral is over, they rarely get more than a yearly visit from any family. If that.” Lara finished her cigarette and stubbed it out in the ashtray perched on the arm of the sofa. “How’s it looking?”

“Ugly but clean. It’ll need some arnica,” Karl replied, rising carefully to his feet. “That’s in the kitchen. Besides, the kettle must have boiled by now. No, no. You stay there. I’ll go.”

Lara laughed and shooed him away with her good arm before reaching for the cigarettes and lighter.

Karl could hear swearing from outside the back door; Jim must be up and found the aftermath of the fox fracas. Karl popped the kettle on and grabbed the arnica and some aspirin from the medicine cupboard, chuckling at the string of expletives emanating from over the garden fence. He glanced out the window to see that sunrise was already burning off the mist that had been so thick an hour or so ago. It looked like it could be a lovely day.

The sound of the front doorbell caught him off guard. Who would be calling at this hour? Karl wondered and went to open the front door. Through the frosted glass he could make out the shape of a woman in a bright pink dressing gown. What could she want? Karl thought as he unlocked and opened the door. “Morning Celia. Is everything alright?”

“Oh Karl,” his next door neighbour cried, her face puffy and contorted with distress. “Karl, I’m so sorry if I’ve woke you,” Celia started to apologise. “There was some trouble with foxes in our garden last night. I don’t know if you heard any of it.”

“No,” Karl lied. “But I heard Jim swearing earlier. Did they make much of a mess?”

Celia looked distraught at the suggestion. “Well yes, but…” she trailed off with a sob. “Karl, it’s Lara. I’m so sorry. They killed your cat.” Celia had not come empty handed; she held out a bundle, wrapped neatly in a towel, out in front of her.

Karl felt an icy chill bloom from the crown of his head and cascade down his body. “Thank you,” he said numbly, taking the bundle from Celia’s shaking hands.

“I’m so, so sorry,” Celia continued but Karl had already shut the front door. He felt the lightness of the bundle in his arms. It felt so slight.

“Lara?” Karl called as he carried it through to his wife, but the front room was empty. He laid the bundle on the sofa and sat down next to it. A spiral of smoke floated up from the ashtray perched on the arm. Karl turned and picked up the last of the burning cigarette and with trembling fingers, finished his smoke.

*******

I’m off now to introduce Cade to Thoughtful Man’s favourite companion, Dear Reader…

Clara

*/winks…*

Have a Song ❤

HBD Dr One! From The Okie Devil & RBD2

Two things, Dear Reader…

*No, Clicky… /flicks lighter… two items to cover off in this post… /lights up…*

First up, the soon to be published Underdog Anthology V has finally got a title…

*Knot quite… /puffs… Similar, Clicky…*

Six in Five in Four

Leggy tells me there will be 20 stories in all, not including the Foreword and Afterword, which I guess makes…

1260827856769

*/drags… twenty-two… /squints… and knot Tutu, Clicky… /taps ash…*

I have two stories included: ‘Nine Lives‘ and a new ‘Harry‘ story called, ‘Jackanory Jackalope’…

jacka_gif_by_nymla-d8r8ffl

*/coughs … It’s a spring-time book, Clicky… /clears throat… There has to be a rabbit…*

… In witch, the Legend of the Jackalope is recounted by a…

My good friend, Cade, who has three fantabulous stories in UAV, imparted the legend to me. I hope I’ve been able to do it justice ❤

4ff1399596a83ae049d3575ee7ee5aba

*Okay… /drags… thanks for keeping me on track, Clicky… /blows smoke ring…*

The second thing, Dear Reader, is to say a big, fat ‘Happy Birthday’ to The Underdog

Dr One

… And to give him his pressie, made by Cade, from both of us. Leggy may recognise the lyrics 😉

*My besties are SO fucking clever and talented, Clicky… /stubs butt… I AM the luckiest woman in the whirled…*

*Yes, you too, Clicky… /pats snout…*