I Went To Church Today, Oh Boy

I Went To Church Today.

I am not much of a church person and I am not good at bending the knee to other powers. But this was lovely, and even though you may already know the blog (she is far more popular than I); I wanted to share a little something pretty with you.

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A month ago, my http://www.unnecessarywords.com colleague Ken posted this juicy prediction. Today, we see that he was almost entirely right and I just want to make sure everyone knows, when it comes to SCOTUS analysis, there is no place better than Unnecessary Words.

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The CATvengers

The CATvengers.

I like to imagine my cats do this kind of stuff. Also I like to imagine that this blog will eventually be all about cats.

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Ghosts Of The Pine Barrens

He left the bar in Olde City around 4 when his bartender buddy decided it was time to go home to his wife. He walked down 2nd Street to his car; despite drinking more than a few Arrogant Bastards; the two friends had spent the last hour drinking coffee and he had been cleared to drive. He gunned up the engine on his old black Acura and headed up Walnut to Fifth and then over the Ben Franklin Bridge out of Philadelphia and into New Jersey. He drove briskly down Route 70; through Cherry Hill where his own sleeping wife was waiting for him, pausing at a stoplight to light the cheap convenience store cigar he had been chewing in the bar, and beyond through Marlton and Medford and finally turning at the roundabout where 70 and Route 206 intertwined.

At a stoplight in Tabernacle the driver thought he ought to turn around and head home, it was nearly 5 am after all, but he was in a pensive mood and decided to keep driving towards sunrise. As he passed through the Pine Barrens he noticed that the cigar smoke, intended to serve as a stimulant, was starting to intoxicate him; the driver was beginning to feel drunk on its cheap perfume the way normal men might react to the scent from a strange woman’s neck. It seemed as though amidst the fens of pitch pines and scrub brush odd shapes were arising; here was a woman in a white dress, there a tall demon, everywhere revolutionary soldiers and their families. He shook his head violently, and the images melted to smoke and dust, so he continued his journey.

It was another twenty minutes before he realized he was being hypnotized by the white lines as they shot past him in the dark. He knew the tricks, he rolled his windows down further, allowing a white billow of smoke to escape, threw a Decemberists’ CD in the player and shook his head again. The intricate guitar and organ and drums and lyrics gave his mind something to work on while the cool breeze off the many lakes and bogs in the Barrens helped to shock his body awake. The driver knew it was time to turn back, but a shimmer of gold caressed the horizon and he knew it would be mere minutes until he could spot the sun creeping lazily into the sky. If he floored it he would make it out of the Pine Barrens and be at the coast for the spectacular glory of sunrise.

Accordingly, the driver pushed his foot on the gas pedal slightly, taking him from 60 mph to 70 in an instant, his little Blackura was made for just such maneuvers, and raced steadily to the shore.

Suddenly a shape appeared before him, a woman again, beautiful beyond compare and dressed in an ethereal brightness. The driver swerved sharply, seeming to narrowly miss the lady in white and slammed sharply into the guardrail before plowing through and over the side into a ditch along the tree-line. He looked up and saw his windshield covered in blood and reached his right hand forward to touch it. The blood was on the outside; it wasn’t his. His left hand was outside the car and he shook the rest of the cheap cigar from his hand onto the sandy embankment below. The driver was alive.

Then he saw it. flickering outside the car. It was a handsome man in leather trousers and a billowy white lace-up shirt like one might see at Batsto Village nearby, but he slowly changed into a tall, horned demon, wings jutting sharply from his shoulders, red sinew and veins traced over pale white skin and tall black horns haphazardly growing from the top of its head. As it walked towards him it seemed to flicker back and forth from man and monster, ever closer to him as he felt the horror seize his gut and paralyze his throat.

*****

The investigating officers would rule that the man, who had clearly been drinking the night before, had been driving too fast and possibly under the influence when a deer had run out into the road. After swerving to avoid, he had hit the deer hard enough to basically disintegrate the beast but the impact had caused fatal internal injuries. The autopsy had yielded different results and the coroner had declared he had never seen internal injuries such as these; it seemed as though the driver had died of fright.

If you drive down Route 206 late at night, as I have, you can see the decaying flowers and rotting posterboard from his memorial. And if you drive fast enough and look close enough; among the ghosts of the Pine Barrens you can see a young man with bloodshot and tired eyes smoking a cigar. As you speed past him it almost feels like he is shouting a simple message: turn back now.

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Jeff McElroy vs. Osama bin Laden

Jeff McElroy vs. Osama bin Laden.

I don’t usually deal strictly with truth on my blogs, but the above link is the 100 percent true story of how I punched out a terrorist (9 or 10 years before they were a terrorist).

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Of Petals And Pollens.

Of Petals And Pollens..

Sometimes, tasteful pictures of plant genitalia are exactly what I need for inspiration. I am working on a couple short stories right now and both felt like they needed little scenic details and these pictures may have planted (see what I did there) just the right images in my brain for that.

More to come soon; in the meantime check out my other site http://www.unnecessarywords.com if you like awesomesauce.

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A Nightmarish Sexual Landscape: Another True Story

A Nightmarish Sexual Landscape: Another True Story.

I am 28 years old and by most qualifications of such things; not an attractive man. But things like this happen to me with some frequency, typically by women fifteen or more years my senior. I can assure you; I am easily flattered and if I had the ability to blush I would be crimson, but when an older, potentially crazy, woman starts to tell you how long its been; mumbling and/or screaming “I’m married” and darting off as far away as possible is the best solution.

The writer of the post above did not do this.

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I Would Like To Thank The Academy…

Ethel The Dean (she is analagous to Robert The Bruce in that she will free Canada from England’s imperialism and be crowned on the Stone of Scone in Edinbugh…I think) of the wonderful blog Rant and Roll, has very kindly and likely with no small amount of pity, nominated me for a Kreative Blogger Award. In acceptance; I must give seven secret truths about myself and nominate seven blogs that make me smile (this is tough to do).

7. I always drink exactly the right amount. No more; no less. If you see me sleepy after a beer or two, swinging my pet swords around with red wine staining my entire face or passed out face down in a sink; I have drank exactly the right amount. It is a skill, nay a superpower, that I have developed over the years. I am two sheets (drinking Flying Fish and a 16 oz. sidecar of Canadian Club and Ginger Ale and soon to be three, don’t worry) to the wind right now and I have work at 9 am EST. This is totally acceptable, because as I’ve mentioned, I always drink the right amount.

6. I’m a little bit over half white (mostly Scottish), nearly half black (brought here to harvest tobacco and other delightful crops), and a smidge of Cherokee (followed the mammoth herds) thrown in for good measure (it shows though, I can’t grow leg or arm hair for shit, so its embarrassing to wear shorts in the summertime). But despite this hodgepodge of ethnicities, there are few things I love more than a good racist joke. Don’t misunderstand me; racism sucks and I know it first hand. But a good racist joke, there are few things better.

5. As Bob Lutz, former GM CEO, said about “the Europeans” on The Colbert Report; I have an “enhanced sense of [my] own infallibility”. As I’ve written elsewhere, the only thing close to being actually right is convincing someone who is right that you’re right instead. For better or worse (usually worse) I always think I am right and usually am (seriously I think I am smarter than other people and I get most of my news from The Daily Show and then have that news disputed by The Colbert Report. I decide which news is true by which was funnier).

4. My wife is super jealous of my cat Loki. While we have three cats and one dog, Loki and I have been together since before the wife and I got married and have a certain bond and rapport. The secret is, Loki isn’t just a cat; he is also my son. He was crawled fully formed out of my mouth one morning after I had a dream about a cat. His whiskers tickled my nose as he was climbing out and as I sneezed I bit down on his back legs; crippling him for life. I feel pretty guilty about that; but he gets around nonetheless.

3. My hair is longer than yours. This is probably a true statement; in the last decade or so I’ve only gotten my hair cut about 5 times (always for the ladies, only to be laughed at in derision and disgust once my lady saw it. Several of these times it was my wife and she still occasionally asks me to cut my flowing mane). Seriously my hair when untangled and combed is about two feet long. Straightened (being half black it is naturally pretty curly) out it reaches down near my waist. My hair is pretty fucking long.

2. I’ve broken all of the fingers on both hands. Except for my thumbs, each of my fingers is a misshapen scarred mess (my thumbs kinda are too, just less crooked). I had suspected I had broken my index and middle fingers but several years ago, the last time I was at the doctor’s office, my doctor stopped me as I was filling out some forms. She had been looking at my hands and asked me to hold them outstretched. Then looked in my folder. Then asked me how I broke all my fingers. I didn’t have an answer for her as I didn’t know they were broken. It seems that from all the fights I used to get into as a troubled youth I had either fractured or broken eight fingers and there was deformed remodeling when they healed. Proof that I’m either pretty badass or a terrible fighter who isn’t smart enough to know when his fingers hurt.

1. I am dying to sell out. This nomination is just the first step in my two step plan to sell out and get rich. Step two is sell out and get rich. If you have some sweet connections that can help me with step two; that’d be pretty sweet.

In addition to spilling all of these secrets; I must also nominate about a billion other blogs for this award. I am happy to do so, here they are:

Ethel the Dean is a super badass kung fu master from the Shaolin temples of China. Occasionally she goes to Vancouver and just karate chops people in half.

Haley Welsh is a nereid who travels around the world using her sea nymph powers. One time she high fived a mermaid but it was underwater so no one heard it.

Stories by Williams are stories by Matt Williams. Mr. Williams is actually a time traveler who knows a lot more about time travel than I do. He once traveled back in time to publish a book under his pseudonym H. G. Wells. It was called The Time Machine.

Rae from Peas and Cougars is basically my blog hero. She makes me want to draw again but I’ll stick to my words for now. I oftentimes gush effusively about her blog and if you click the link you’ll know why.

Mike is not only one of my best friends but also a kickass photographer and bear wrestler. One time he broke my neck which was pretty funny. If you click his link you may even see pictures of The Wife and I.

The Team at Unnecessary Words are my comrades in arms. Obviously this is something of a shameless plug; but seriously, the three people who aren’t me are pretty great. Brian, Liz and Ken are cats I’ve known for a long time and there is no one I’d rather work with.

Jenny from Caffeinated and Random drinks so much coffee that her blood is probably foamy. She makes me pretty jealous because I want to drink coffee every day but am way too lazy to make my own.

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Middle Earth Holidays

Middle Earth Holidays.

I cannot stress enough how much I love this blog. I actually missed this post when it was posted due to a weird email on my phone issue (I do most of my computing and blogging from a Droid 2 which is a great phone for blogging with its awesome qwerty keyboard). But I see the light now.

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Thai Times

Thai Times.

My little brother is in Thailand right now; currently traveling while on his “summer break” from teaching English. I miss him greatly, he spends a lot of time at my house when he is home and is basically best friends with my wife. These photographs by a stranger helped me feel close to him at a time when he is so far away.

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