Funny and Not

I'm wondering about all these Adsense type things that I have set up on this site. Right now they're all advertising products to eliminate excessive armpit odor. Come now--where in the purple fuck do I mention armpit odor on this site? Could it be that they can smell me from here? I've been having to shower at work. My shower isn't working. The one in my son's room is still good, but I don't feel right about going in there to shower. So sometimes, admissibly, it's a few days between. Hell, we can't all have the lap of luxury. I can't afford to get the shower fixed. And the last couple of nights I was too tired to go into work in time to get a shower. So I guess I ain't exactly a field of lilies right now. Too fucking bad.
I was mentioning in the last post about my friend's concern over me losing the magical aspect of myself and feeling helpless because even he in all his ethereal ghostliness can't give it back to me. It's exhaustion, stress, pure and simple, and a feeling of giving up on everything because shit has just never worked my way. I have to go for orientation to the nursing program tomorrow, something I really don't want to do. The only reason I'm getting my nursing license is because everything costs so god damn much and I need to be able to make more money. I have no delusions of being Florence Fucking Nightingale. I work with the elderly and unlike some people I treat them with respect rather than condescension. There's some of them who are sour, unpleasant old so and so's, but for the most part, they're just people. I figure, if you've made it to 80 or 90 years old, the least people can do is treat you with respect. Age in this society is seen as something to have disdain for and I think that's wrong. You shouldn't have disdain for anyone based on age, gender, or race. Anybody who disagrees with me can go suck an exhaust pipe. I don't have any tolerance for racism, sexism, ageism, or homophobia.
I have the greatest of respect for caregivers, but I just don't feel like it's my path. I always wanted to work in the arts: writing, acting, drawing cartoons, something. But it's never come together. I feel like I, the real me, what I wanted to be and should be, is trapped in a dead body that refuses to lie down. I never became. And it causes serious distress.
I feel really angry with myself for this. In the past I would have cut myself to bring the poison to the outside. Its counterproductive. I don't do it any more. But I am highly dissatisfied. Why the fuck does the Universe give skills, talents, gifts, whatever to a person and then say "well, fucker, you're on your own. Here's the creek and you ain't got no paddle."
Sometimes I think the powers that be are just straight up sadistic. And for that I fart in their general direction. Maybe they'll send me some of that stuff for excessive sweat, and some of those charcoal liners for excessive gas. Not that I actually have either--at least not at the moment. Just that it would be about what I'd reckon on from the Powers that Be. A break certainly doesn't seem to be "in the cards."

Happy 18th!

In honor of my son's 18th birthday today, here is Alice Cooper from back in the day, in a trippy 70's video. Alice wasn't much more than 18 himself in this one, and I'll bet a week's pay that he was smashed at the time!
A very happy birthday to the world's greatest son, who has put up with having me as a mother all these years. Some people really do deserve a medal!

Announcements

Part II will begin next Friday. I've been ill.

The story contest is off. People seem to find them more intimidating than inspiring. No fun there. If anyone still feels inspired to write a story you're welcome to. But there's no contest.
I hope I'm not opening a can of worms by asking this, but although I see subscribers I sometimes wonder if anyone reads what's here. If nobody does, then there's not much sense rolling Section II.
I know it's hard to comment on other people's work without sounding like one of those rude, critical types. I find it hard to comment on creative work as well. Still, sometimes it seems like the thing people liked most on this blog was the 10 searches to blog post. I daresay...what does this say about my and my spooky chum's writing??
I'll throw one out there--what the fuck. I feel like ass, which isn't inspiring any work on the second book just now.

1. The first search is asking for Lisa Ohlin's brother. Here's the facts as I know them. Mr. Ohlin's sister is Anna. His mother was named Lisa. He had three brothers: Johan, Daniel and Anders. His father's name was Mikael. And his comment to your grouchy, disease-laden medium is "MR. Ohlin? Are you fucking kidding me??" And that one good thing about being a ghost is that he can't catch what I have because it's fucking wicked. Right you are, Doctor. But I don't think the suggestion of cutting my head off is particularly beneficial. While it may help in the short term, we won't exactly get the second book published if I do that.
Oh yeah--this query led to this post. The inquirer was Russian. I couldn't understand what they wrote. I wonder if they could understand what I said.
If you ever use the Babelfish to translate a page into another language, it turns out pretty funny sometimes.

2. The number of perverts I get to this blog really amazes me and I am now reaching for my barf bucket. Y'all need a psychiatrist. Let me make it clear. WE DO NOT HAVE ANY INCESTUOUS AUNT AND NEPHEW STORIES HERE! Nor WILL we have any incestuous aunt and nephew stories here. We don't like incest. Although some reporters for the Crappy Times apparently like sex with insects. Now quit asking! And go get some help.
All roads traveled by those looking for sex with their aunt or nephew seem to lead here.

3. The search for Barry Dillard ended here. Barry says "haloooo!" He may or may not realize that he's not the Barry you were looking for.

4. Oh my--I kind of feel bad about this. Some searchers came here looking for salvation. Or at least communion. Sorry, y'all. The only kinds of communion you'll find are this kind and this kind. And certainly no salvation. Abandon hope, all ye who enter here!

5. Someone was looking for the Beneath the Surface poem. I don't know if this is what they were looking for, but if it is, I'm happy to help. We wrote it ourselves as an introduction to the book!

6. A gentleman queried for "man looking for man in Dubui." Poor dude must have been a tad startled when he got this. I hope he found a decent dating service instead.

7. Ok, you sick pervert! This one was looking for "aunt makes nephew jerk off." They found this and I hope they were VERY VERY VERY disappointed! Puke!
Let me make something very clear. INCEST. DESTROYS. LIVES. We do not and never will condone it. Period.

8. This one was looking for Adam Finch. They weren't looking for this, I gar-on-tee! But that's what they found!

9. This person was looking for Lisa and Nasir in love. I know this isn't what they were looking for, but it's what they got. Oh yeah--good luck to Lisa and Nasir!

10. That Adam Finch is a popular dude. Either that, or he's been really, really bad. Once again, here he is!

Now if you'll all excuse me I need to go hack up a lung. And we won't even go there about the digestive issues! With my luck, that would turn some creep on too!

Snarky Lily

First Annual Valentine's Story Contest

Go to the Creative Crabbing Blog and allow Brittney to inform you of the rules of the Icky Sticky Valentine's Day Story Contest. There are two first prize winners, both of whom will receive an autographed copy of the book, or some other wonderful boon if they already possess a book.

The results of the Horrors of Fruitcake Xmahannuramakwanzyule Story Contest were quite disappointing, (the entries themselves were a lot of fun--it's the turnout that was deplorable) so we're hoping for a better turnout this time. We have the feeling that some folks may be taking our contests too seriously. But if you click the link above you'll see that "serious" is the last thing you need to be, unless you're simply being serious about having fun. Lyanne is our first entrant, and her tale reads like a really creepy yet somehow hideously amusing Penthouse letter. So go there and show off your peculiar--er--particular talents! If PANSI can win a story contest, you know you have a damn good shot! The only one to ever be disqualified so far is The Cheesemeister, and as Brittney explains, this is because she brought a Satanic fruitcake into the Netherworld Hotel.

The only rules to the contest are that there really are no rules. Except to write and enjoy yourself. Which should be the first rule of writing anyway! And the real winners are everybody who enters. Except for The Cheesemeister, of course.

Lily

I Want Your Vote!

No, I'm not running for president--we aren't in THAT much trouble yet...are we? The Horrors of Fruitcake Story Contest has wrapped up and we have three entries. I oughta flog the lot of you that didn't enter, if I can find whatever dive bar you're hiding out in! Shame on you for not entering! But you CAN make a difference--c'mon and cast your vote for the best! And start dreaming up your sweetest, most romantic tale for my upcoming Lovey Dovey Valentine's story!

NOT!!!!

Did you fall for that? Come on--this is me--a woman who is trying to make a career out of creeping people out! Although a real honest-to-Azathoth happy-sappy romance is something I'd personally find pretty damn scary, so you never know--if you write one, yours could be the winner!

Stay tuned for the details--and get over to the Creative Crabbing Blog and vote for your favorite story! I haven't flogged my crew today and I'm in a bad mood, so I'm looking for someone to punish. Don't make it your ass that I get midieval on!

Poison Ivy

(Lily's evil twin)

Holidays

To our eleven readers we just want to say happy holidays or not, however you may roll with 'em. Not really up for giving a schpiel about feelings on the whole thing and this wouldn't be the place for such diatribe anyway. The decorations are always pleasing to the eye, we'll just leave it at that.

PANSI, however, has not been very pleased with Lily, AKA the Cheese Mistress. If you don't know PANSI, believe me, she rules the roost wherever she may be roosting. She would be very appreciative if you'd come by and leave a present for her because she doesn't feel that she'll be getting enough, thanks to my incompetence. To be fair, maybe I should just let her say it herself.

Helloooo, every boddy! Its me, PANSI!!!! Thank you for lissening to my problam's, which are all caused by the Cheese Mistress, aka LILLY STRANGE--and boy is she ever! The Cheese Mistress did not contackt the proper meedia until the last minuet, which is how she does EVERYthing, in other word's, LATE!!! So it look's like I wont be geting as menny present's as I desurve, but at leest I will be getting sum. Sinse it is the seeson to feal good about giving, you can feal good about me reseeving what you are giving if you come to my blog rite now and reed my urjent mesage. I have ben working tiredlessly to coreckt the mistake's made by the CHEESE MISTRESS, which are menny. Thank you soooo much for you're prompt atenshun to this vary importent matter!

Kiss kiss,

PANSI!!!!!!!!

*disclaimer: PANSI is not for the faint of heart nor those born without a sense of humor. If you do not enjoy venturing into the realm of the ridiculous and are incapable of silliness, do not expose yourself to PANSI. Over-exposure to PANSI has been known to cause reduction in I.Q. You have been warned.

Dr. Zigmund Fraud

Director, Netherworld Center For The Journey To Your Mind

Diversion Time

There have been so many fucked up searches leading to this blog that I just have to do this. Ladies and gentlemen, or whatever you really are, we now take a detour from our story to present the LAST TEN SEARCHES TO MY BLOG!!!! Oh glory, oh fun! Something to make fun of--and believe me, I've gotta! Some of them made me chuckle but one really grossed me out! You'll know it when you see it.

1. Someone was searching for BARRY DILLARD. My character probably wasn't the Barry Dillard they were looking for. But my Barry Dillard is so much cooler than theirs! Only kidding, I'm sure their Barry Dillard is cool too. You will find my Barry Dillard in this post.

Barry is best described as a "boxy little bloke." He was born in London, in the fictional borough of Crouch End. He is 55 years old at the time of this writing. He is the lead singer for the very popular fictional band Metal Mass. Although small in stature, Barry can definitely take care of himself and has on many an occasion. But even he was not prepared for the evil that he encountered in the vile Jarius Viscu.

2. Some disgusting perv was searching for "Auntie and Nephew Stories." I am happy to disappoint them. You won't find that kind of shit here, Senor or Senora Perverto! I will make it plain that "Aunt Greta" does not have that kind of nasty relationship with her surrogate nephew, and it wouldn't even technically be incest if she did because they aren't blood relations. But emotional incest is nasty too. We run a clean ship here, dammit! Take your incestuous lusts elsewhere--hopefully to a shrink. Pronto!

3. Our next visitor was searching for "Stop! You're giving me the heebie jeebies!"

Awww...thanks! We aim to please!

4. And now I get to give some construction advice. This individual was wondering "what direction does a satanic temple face?"

Well, let me tell you what. South is always down on a map. So a Satanic Temple should face south. But just to make sure you've got it right, once you've built it, you need to stand in front of it, drop trou, bend over and grab your ankles. If Satan buggers you, you know you've got it right. If not, you're probably fucked anyway, because that's just how Satan rolls. And you shouldn't have been mooning him, you silly git. Either way, I don't really care. Just make sure you have the proper permits before you start building.

5. This person was wondering about a "sexy dress to masterbait in." Well, I'm not sure that Azrael Abaddon ever wore a dress while he was masterbaiting. And I really don't want to know. But he was upset with Terry Schonefeld because she hadn't told the sick lust of her fantasy in order to inspire him to masterbait. The rest of his spelling in his critique of her writing was equally cringe-worthy, and Terry's aunt Pam speculated that perhaps the mercifully belated Azrael was drowned by a group of vigilante English teachers determined to prevent his atrocious spelling and literary handicaps from spreading.

6. This person wanted to know how tall Pelle Ohlin was. It's strange that they were brought here because I don't believe I've ever mentioned that factoid. I hazard a guess that he was approximately 6'4" tall. Thanks for playing!

7. This person was simply searching for Per "Pelle" Ohlin. He's mentioned in this chapter. His height, however, remains under speculation.

8. Oh for...there are more pervs looking for stories about aunts and nephews doing the nasty! Like I told you in Entry #2, we don't have any of that kind of shit here! Now bugger off.

9. This person was looking for LISA NASIR. I don't suppose that our Lisa Nasir was the one they were looking for.

My Lisa Nasir is protagonist Terry Bruckham's (aka Schoenfield, or Schonefeld if you are Azrael Abaddon) cousin. She stands up for Terry against the attack of critic and wannabe romance novelist Megan Lucas. You can read Lisa's chapter here.

10. This person was looking for "poems beneath the surface." The only poem featured so far can be found right here. It's called "The One Who Waits Beneath The Surface." Hope ya like it! *shameless self-promotion* And if you do, hell, why not buy the book? The e-book's only five bucks, Kiddies! If you like spooky stuff, you may just really dig this. But if you're looking for aunt and nephew incest please, for the love of all that's holy and otherwise, go the hell away!

Thanks for playing! Come back later this week for another exciting chapter, which will also not contain aunt-nephew incest. Have a good one!

Lily and the Ghost

A Diversion

Cash Advance Loans

O.K., Like, I know it doesn't have anything to do with the story but I, like, totally couldn't resist finding out!

Actually, I didn't talk like that in high school, except to mock the people who did talk like that. I was one of those people who was cutting class and going off into the field behind the school to get stoned. Which may explain why I never amounted to jack shit. And why I can't remember to post the new story segment on Friday. Now you know!

Lily