Things to Celebrate May the 4th Be With You…That You Shouldn't Do at Work (Copy)

1. Don’t stick cinnamon rolls to either side of your head. Let's face it, not everyone can have that luscious wig they threw on Carrie fisher. But if you come in wearing breakfast pastries over your ears not only will your bosses wonder about your sanity, your coworkers will be annoyed that you didn't bring them any. Plus, you'll attract ants.

2. Just because you're wearing a robe-like white dress without a bra, you are not automatically a princess. Stop trying to put medals on the big hairy guy in the next cubicle.

3. Searching through the art installation rock garden for Kyber crystal will not be taken with a grain of salt by office security. I'm pretty sure this is the workplace equivalent of digging through a fountain for pennies. Security won't understand that you need it for your lightsaber.

4. Don't spend your whole lunch period trying to pick a fight about ending of Rogue One.

5. Don't try to use the Force to throw plastic cutlery at your coworkers

6. When you overhear other people saying that they are not afraid of your boss, don’t go up to them and whisper in a croaking tone, “You will be. You. Will. Be.”

7. Don't tell your supervisor that you sense is great darkness in her/him

8. Don't announce to everyone that you are going to use the restroom by loudly humming the Imperial March 

9. When you steal someone else's yogurt from the fridge and they catch you, don't declare that you are a smuggler and it's what you do, sweetheart. If they question you further, don't then additionally declare that you are only there to get paid.

10. Don't fill out reports while muttering under your breath, “I am one with the force. The force is one with me.”

11. Every time the copy machine acts up, don't start pleading with it by using the words, “Droid please!”

12. Don't tell people to get out of your cubicle by singing the Bea Arthur song from the Christmas special.

13. Don't find your coworkers service dog and try to explain to it what a helmet is (or ask it to raise your orphaned children if you are ever killed upon Endor).

14. Don't reply to every piece of office gossip with, “Nooooo! That's not true! That's impossible!”

15.  And finally when your boss tells you that you have been fired for your strange shenanigans, don't tell them that if they strike you down it will only make you more powerful.

Great NOOOOOOOOO’s in Movie History

We all know the cliché - the long, drawn-out, noise of anguish that characters in movies wail in a moment of true drama. In other words, when the scriptwriter was up at 3am just trying to finish the scene.

So here’s a list of the top anguished cries in movie history (Spoilers ahead):

8. The Panicked Security Guard v. the Steam Roller

The first Austin Powers movie has some pretty good sight gags, but nothing beats that 30 seconds when the security guard stands there with his hand outstretched and his bottom jaw seemingly unhinged to let out his scream. He holds this scream for quite a while as the object of his demise slowly inches towards him from about 6 feet away.

7. The “What’s in the Box” No.

A more subtle no delivered by Brad Pitt, but considering how anguished this Seven performance is, I’m adding it to the list.

6. The Lord of the Rings No.

Any time someone does the long nooooooo in the LOTR trilogy, it’s pretty epic. Even when Sam does it. And Sam was probably the least dramatic Hobbit.

5. The All Eyes NOOOOOO!!!

Independence Day gave us some great action movie moments, including Will Smith crying out when his buddy, Harry Connick Jr., is shot down. What makes this anguished cry standout is the oxygen mask Smith is wearing, meaning he had to express his pain entirely through his eyes. It really does look like his eyebrows are trying to leap off of his head in order to emote.

4. The Point Break Yell and Shoot

This is of course a quintessential anguished cry. Keanu truly makes you feel his frustration and pain . . . And makes you wonder what happens when those bullets come back down.

3. The Hot Fuzz Parody of the Yell and Shoot

Nick Frost’s take on the Point Break moment is still weirdly emotional. In fact, something about the character reliving what is one of his favorite moments in cinema while he is debating shooting someone so close him is much more heartbreaking.

2. That’s Impossible!

Following the loss of his hand, Luke Skywalker’s discovery and then adamant denial of his true parentage feels like an appropriate time to yell “No!” No one wants to admit that the feelings they are searching told them that they guy who just sliced off your limb might be Dad. You’d rather hope that the feeling is indigestion.

1. The Childhood Trauma No!

You’re sitting in that movie theater or in your living room. You’re young and innocent and just bouncing happily to the music of Elton John. What could possibly go wrong? Then it happens. Mufasa plummets into that rampaging herd of water buffalo. And as he falls, Simba lets out a cry which matches the sorrow in your heat.

Honorable Mention: KAAAAAAHHHHHNNNN! Even though this is clearly the greatest of all anguished cries in any movie ever, because this amazing wail is a proper name, I am putting it in the honorable mention category. Thank you, Shatner, for yelling it. And thank you, Ricardo Montalbán, for inspiring it.

In No Way Honorable and Not Worth Mentioning: Where is Padme? Don’t worry about it, because that cry of anguish is not on this list. Total waste of James Earl Jones.

Monkeys of Betrayal

 

                Fictional monkeys. Such good sidekicks. Abu. Boots. Playful Heart Monkey (yes, Care Bears count). So cute. So silly. So loyal. So nothing like what you see at the zoo. Or are they?

Here is my list of top five fictional monkeys who deceived us in some way (spoilers ahead):

5. The Evil Monkey who Lives in Chris Griffin’s Closet

                Even though he was once a good monkey who overcomes his grief to go back to being a good monkey, this Family Guy reoccurring sight gag tormented a kid season after season because he was bitter that his monkey wife cheated on him. I know this is a show of illogical jokes, but who constantly points menacingly from within a closet in stranger’s house? He wasn’t actually evil, but he was most certainly a jackass.

4.  All Organ Grinder Monkeys

                This is a generalized comment on all classic films which featured an organ grinder and his cute little monkey grifter. Don’t be fooled by the man turning the crank and playing the music. The true mastermind behind this sidewalk attraction was always the monkey. You know that little so-and-so was using the ploy to pick pockets and spread fleas just for the fun of it.

3. Jack the Monkey

                I secretly like this buccaneer monkey from the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise. That being said, let’s face it – he was a little jerk. He was obsessed with cursed gold, he was the minion of a traitor, and he was dressed better than most of the other pirates which, to me, suggests a sort of manipulative deviousness.

2. The Monkey from Raiders of the Lost Ark

                This was the first time as a child when I was not devastated when an animal in a movie died. Granted, I wasn’t thrilled, but it was not the Neverending Story horse or Bambi’s mom scenario. He spied on and was part of a plot to kill Indiana Jones. This was even after Marion was so sweet to him. Enough said.

1. Curious George

                He’s not a monkey! He has no tail! He’s an ape. The Man with the Yellow Hat is in league with a primate of lies!

Blog Generators

Blog generators - apparently, this is a thing. If you can’t decide what to write about you can put in a series words and theses websites will come up with blog topics for you.

Isn’t that the whole point of a blog? You have something you want to rant about so you take fingers to keyboard and rant away? You carefully plan out your thoughts in a way which still bring across your point and yet relates to a vast range of others on the internet who have similar thoughts and interests.

That being said I have no idea what to blog about this week. I think I’ll get some ice cream. It’s good thinking food. May I recommend you do the same.

While I'm Being Rescued

                I was hanging over a pit of doom as a monstrous knight with a disgusting mole hair threatened me when someone broke through the door. Now, there are two knights, Sir Mole Hair versus the new contender. His armor is super shiny. It reminds me of the skim on the top of the slop that my neighbor feeds his pigs . . . Cripes. I need a better social life.

                The new knight is taking of his helmet. Whoops! Sorry. Her helmet. And that evil knight’s jaw just hit the floor.

                “Release your prisoner,” she demands.

                He is just laughing at her. Where is all that monologuing he was doing earlier?

                She looks at me and asks if I’m okay.

                My arms feel like they are going to fall off and I need a chamber pot. The snakes and toads under me are starting to get restless. If I struggle, I might fall in. “No! All month I keep getting kidnapped, eaten, and tricked! I’m sick of it! Why does this keep happening to me?”

                The evil knight is sneering at me. “Maybe it’s the way you dress?”

                The lady knight just unsheathed a sword and shouted. “That’s it! You die now!”

                The evil lord knight is doing the same. There is a lot of clanging. It’s not as exciting as I always thought a sword fight would be. I thought there would be back-flips and parrying. Where’s all the parrying? They just keep smacking the swords together and walking a few steps back in one direction.

                Another step. Another clang. Another step. Another clang. Yawn.

                Oh, I spoke too soon. The lady knight just ducked rather skillfully in that shiny armor and rammed her whole body into Sir Mole Hair’s torso. He did not see that coming, because he is down on the ground and . . . rolled right into the vat of toads and snakes. I didn’t know so many vipers would want to bite the same man at once. He’s getting all puffy and purple. He makes for a very ugly corpse.

                The lady knight carefully lowered me down. She really doesn’t seem too disconcerted by the bloated dead man so I guess I won’t bring it up.

                “Thanks.” I tell her while straightening my tunic and resting my arms.

                My gratitude surprises her. “You don't object to being rescued by a girl knight?”

                “Why would I? I'm being rescued. That's all that matters. I just wish you’d showed up earlier this month.”

                She’s blinking at me with the strangest expression. Maybe she’s starting at the scar on my neck. Should I tell her it’s the result of cuddles from a baby griffin? “You're not going to tell me to stop trying to take down the patriarchy?’

                “What’s patriarchy?”

                “It's a socioeconomic system designed by rich, white men meant to keep everyone else at a lower status.”

                “Did the patriarchy make me a peasant?”

                “Yes, feudalism is definitely a form of patriarchy.”

                I thought over her words long and hard. “Down with the patriarchy!”

                She sheaths her sword and collects her helmet. “Do you want to help me bring down the patriarchy?”

                “I don't know. I’m really tired. I just want to go home and lock my door.”
                “Do you at least want to help me throw rotten eggs that the lord sheriff’s house?”

                “Yeah, why not.”

                As she leads me from the dungeon, she turns and asks, “Not to be gross, but did you see the hair coming out of that guy’s mole?”

No Blog!

Due to the weather and unforeseen calamities involving ticktacktoe, Megan E. Vaughn's blog has gone missing this week. We apologize for any inconvenience. Please address all complaints to your local pharmacy and hopefully they will supply you with chocolate. Thank you.

While I Hang Out... Over a Pit of Doom

                I have been kidnapped. A very scary, large man in rather dark armor rode through the field yesterday, tied me to the back of a horse, and dragged me to his spooky castle where he is proceeding to torture me. This torture consists of hanging me by my arms over a vat of creepy things.

                While I respect that this evil lord does not live his life by stereo-typical gender norms, isn't he supposed to be kidnapping and torturing petite maidens with flowers in their hair? Not a 30-year-old, male peasant who were just trying to bring the wheat harvest in.

                I need to move to a new village. This one is hazardous to my health.

                My arms are tired. And this is stretching out the sleeves of my shirt! I know you must be thinking shouldn’t I be more concerned about the venomous snakes and toads slithering below me. You need to understand, I only own one shirt. I am a peasant after all.

                All of this swaying is making my stomach turn. The smell in this place doesn’t help. It smells like burnt feathers. I don’t like it and neither does my sensitive digestive system. I can’t tell if the gurgling noises I hear are coming from my stomach or from the venous toads.

                Sir Psycho is back. He’s taken off his helmet. Not to be judgmental, but he has one of those moles on his face with a long hair growing out of it. I feel it’s okay to be pointing this out since he did kidnap me. I mean, I have plague scars and I think that mole hair gross.

                “Well, sir. Do you tremble before my power? Soon, I will show the locals to fear me and they will give me control—”

                He’s ranting. I should really pay attention, but ugth! I can’t stop staring at that mole hair. Oh, when he talks, it shakes back and forth like a chapel bell rope. I have an urge to yank it out of his face.

                Oh. He’s laughing manically. And now he’s talking again. Did he just ask me if I’m ready for pie? Should I be listening more carefully?

                Ooooooo! He asked if I was ready to die. That makes much more sense.

                No! Disgusting! He’s twirling his finger around the mole hair now! Why would he do that? I’m going to be sick. I am. I am going to be—

                —          

The good news is, the serpents and toads all scattered to one side of the vat to get away from my vomit. The bad news is, if he lowers me down now, that’s what I’m going to land in. He does not look happy.

                “Sorry. Go back to your evil monologue,” I say wondering how awful my breath must be.

                He’s taking out a sword. His really angry at me. That’s not fair! I apologized. He’s coming towards the rope holding me up. The blade is starting to cut through the hemp. This is not going to be pleasant . . .

                Wait, is that knocking on the dungeon door?

While My Luck Runs Out

            I seem to be the subject of a bet. And not just the subject of any bet, but a bet between a banshee and a leprechaun! The leprechaun had tied my shoe laces together and tripped to me in a meadow by the river. This is even more amazing since before this happened my boots did not have laces.

            He then started clapping his hands, doing a jig, and laughing. Have you ever heard a leprechaun laugh? It’s not a fun sound.

            It was a few minutes after that that the banshee appeared. She started screaming almost immediately. Still, this high pitched noise was less annoying than the lepre-laugh. I'm not sure why she is so angry at the leprechaun. He keeps telling her that he won and then she starts screaming again. Honestly all I want is a pair of ear plugs!

            This grass is wet. I am quite uncomfortable, but I can’t get these enchanted boot laces unknotted. Oh. The banshee just threw a comb at the leprechaun. Bonked him right on his wee noggin. I’m assuming that is proper term for a leprechaun’s head or am I being culturally insensitive?

            Maybe I should worry about the semantics later. The banshee is coming towards me.

            Really not sure what to do here. She is just shrieking. Do I tell her that I don’t speak shriek? Maybe she could mime whatever she’s trying to tell me. I assume mime is an art form mastered by all mythical creatures.

            “I assume you’re trying to tell me when I’m going to die?”

            The leprechaun is frowning at me. “Die? What makes you say that?”

            “There’s a banshee. My ears hurt. I’m sorry if this is presumptuous, but it seems the most logical reasoning.”

            “Oh for the love of—” After picking himself up, the leprechaun is signaling for his rival to quiet herself for a moment. “That’s just how she talks. Everyone always thinks that she’s predicting doom or death, but the truth is that people just act like such eejits when she’s about that they get into terrible accidents after meeting her.”

            The banshee is interrupting him with a short shriek. “Oh, and heart attacks. Her voice does cause a lot of heart attacks,” the little man adds.

            “That’s . . . nice. Can I ask why you two are keeping me prisoner in a field and why you gave me shoe laces?”

            “You can.”

            The banshee is nodding in agreement.

            “Why are you two keeping me prisoner in a field and why did you give me shoelaces?”

            The woman’s red hair iswaving back and forth. It looks like it could wrap around her neck and choke her. She wailing quite a bit. Is this the banshee equivalent of ranting?

            “Will you hush up? He can’t understand you anyway.” They are both rolling their eyes. “You aren’t our prisoner. You can leave whenever you want.”

            “I can? Are you sure, because I’ve been trying to untie these laces ever since your friend arrived and—”

            “I gave you laces and tied them together because I bet this one here three pieces of gold that could get a human to bow down to me.”

            “Not to be rude, but I really didn’t bow. I fell.”
            A giant grin is on the banshee’s face. Uh oh, the leprechaun is turning red. There’s steam coming out of his ears. Can he explode? Is that something leprechauns do? He’s stomping his feet and swearing. I mean, really swearing. He’s saying words that I’m fairly certain are illegal in my village.

            The banshee just screeched something at him. It sounded rather smug and annoyed, which I never knew a screech sound that way. Whatever she said, it made the leprechaun calm down.

            He walking away and answering the banshee t the same time. “Very well. You buying is a good enough prize, I suppose. But I did win.”

            And she screamed back him. They are walking away towards the pub. And they just left me here. In the mud. With my boots tied together.

            Anyone have a knife handy?

While I Scramble

 

                It has happened again! I have been placed in mortal danger. Being a peasant is really getting to be a pain these days!

                This morning a giant griffin flew over my village, picked me up in her paws, and dropped me into a giant nest. Then, she left again to find more food.

                Here I sit in the middle of three eggs and have been sitting for several hours. The eggs sound almost ready to hatch. I keep hearing scratching and cracking. Soon, I will be regurgitated griffin baby food.

                Do griffins regurgitate their food? I would assume so since the head is like a bird. But their stomach is in the lion part of their body. Perhaps they have the innards of a lion as well. If they feed their young like a lion would, I imagine there will still be a great deal of tearing at my flesh before the initial feeding process begins.

                I appear to be fated to be someone’s dinner. If I am going to be devoured by beasties, this is not the worst of it. Babies do need to eat. At least I am helping with the circle of life, right?

                Right.

                Oh! A shell just cracked open. I see a beak! Why am I excited about this? I am about to become baby’s first meal. But this little griffin is just so darn adorable. He is making these peep noises and trying to shake bits of shell off of his skinny, featherless wings. Of course, he’s the size of a border collie so his “peeps” are loud enough to shake the nest.

                He just noticed me! What do I do? What do I do? Do I try to hide behind one of the other eggs? Too late. He’s coming towards me. Better just get this over with. Maybe if I offer my head first, it will all end quickly.

                His beak is moving towards me. I hope it’s sharp enough to—

                And he’s nuzzling me. And purring.

                Griffins purr. Who knew?

                I think I just became an uncle.

                Now? How do I get down?

While I Digest

Hi there. I was recently devoured by a dragon. A huge dragon. Swallowed me whole.

Served me right too. I stepped on his tail.

The only problem with being eaten whole is the waiting. I’m currently sitting in a pool of stomach acids while I watch bits of knight float by. It’s really boring. The only reason why I can see anything is because of the pilot light in the dragon’s belly. At least now I finally know how they breathe fire.

As I sit here slowly allowing the juices to eat away at my tunic, I must stop to ponder at my life. I worked each day. I ate a great deal of porridge. I slept on a straw mattress (I may have been poor, but I was never sleep on a dirt floor poor). And I walked places . . . using my feet.

Huh. Peasant life really does not lend itself to a great deal of pre-death pondering.

Uh-oh. The dragon is opening his mouth again. I see a big, human shaped shadow coming down on me. Maybe I’ll have some company.

Never mind. It’s just half of a lord, a very portly lord. Even just his torso and head made a splash like you would not believe. He does not look like he was a particularly healthy fellow. Most likely full of starches. The dragon just released the most un-gentlemanly belch.

Now I’m getting bored again. I could sing. I wonder if I sing if people will be able to hear me from outside of the dragon? Would that draw a crowd?

This is starting to look grim and smell pretty awful. I think the dread is setting in. And all of the stomach tissues keep gurgling.

Gross! The large lord seems to be giving the dragon indigestion. Everything is churning and bubbling and—

Oh no! Not that! I just heard a thunderous sound which has shaken every muscle within this dragon and a portal has opened beneath me.

I have just realized what shall be worse than being eaten whole by a dragon — passing through the rest of the digestive track while still alive. I wish I had nose plugs.

Songs to Inspire Vampirism

As I work on the 2nd draft of my vampire/adventure novel, I am presenting a part of my playlist for this work of fiction. Pease note, I am not in association with any of these artists and I do not own any of these songs. I am also not technically promoting nor do I work for any of the mentioned artists. These songs are for you to find and listen to at your own leisure or not. Up to you. *In other words: No one sue me, please and thank you.

1. “Cherry Bomb” performed by the Runaways

     All playlists should have one kick-butt, strong female anthem. It might seem like a cliché, but sometimes you just need some late 70’s rock to get a character’s butt in gear.

2. “Classy Girls” performed by the Lumineers

     If one doesn’t have a 30s standard or jazz piece in a writing playlist, chances are folk rock will fill the void. “Classy Girls” is also a good response to Cherry Bomb. All rebellions need a little reminder of respectable behavior when the time calls for it.

3. “I Hung my Head” performed by Johnny Cash

     This is a soulful, emotional tale of violence and remorse which helps fuel the backstory of one particular character. Some characters just crave angst.

4. “Blank Space/Style” cover performed by Louisa Wendoff ft. Devin Dawson

     What? I know it’s a cover of two Taylor Swift songs! It totally fits with something in the book. I can like a Taylor Swift cover if I want. Stop judging me!

5. “Lucy’s Party” composed by Wojciech Kilar from the Bram Stoker’s Dracula score

     I have no logical explanation for this choice.

6. “Diplomat’s Son” performed by Vampire Weekend

     Again, just a good song. No specific theme here at all . . . nope. None.

7. “Vampires in Blue Dresses” performed by Margot and the Nuclear So-So’s

     “Vampires” is in the title and it’s a good song. Get off my back!

On Exercise Resolutions - a letter Miranda Tepes

Note: Miranda is a currently unpublished character from an upcoming paranormal fantasy book called Whitby Secrets (coming soon from FSF Publications). Look for more blogs from her and other characters from this novel as the year progresses.

Dear Melanie,

Damn. I wish I could answer you through e-mail, but Dad says the content could be intercepted by Nos hackers. Yes. My father now is convinced that nosferatus are trying to put viruses on vampire hunters’ computers. I tried to point out that they could just as easily go through our physical mail, but whatever.

You asked me about what I’ve been doing at the gym to keep my staking arm in shape. I assume this means that Uncle Reinold is going to take you out for your first hunt soon. Congratulations!

Personally, I use a hatchet more than a stake. Still, knowing how to handle a stake is important so here’s what I do to keep in shape. First, I jump into the rafters of our ceiling and do about forty to eighty chin-ups on this old beam. Apparently, this what generations of our family did through the decades. If you don’t have a place to do this in your house, then I suggest parallel bars at a park.

Next, I take out two ancient family journals, the two heaviest I can find. I place each one flat in the palms of my hands. I stretch out my arms straight and hold the books for about 20 minutes.  I know we’re supposed to read the family journals, but this is just so much more interesting and useful. Plus I can watch my favorite makeover shows while I do it.

Lastly, I do yoga.  You have to keep your core strong, if you want to keep the rest of you strong. Normal, ordinary yoga while swinging machetes.

I hope that helps you get ready for that first hunt. I just want to add that you should probably wear wellies for your first kill. The first vampire I destroyed was super messy. I got blood all over a brand-new pair of suede boots. Good luck!

Your cousin, Miranda

Best Place by the Fire: Some words on John Hurt and Storytelling

“Let me show you fate through the round of this ring—”

 

A poetic way to start a tale. Now, read it again, but this time, imagine a deep, warm voice with a slight gravely edge speaking to you.

Those words, written by Anthony Minghella, captured the short attention span of a five year old me. This was not simply because they were well-written words or the fact that they were a part of Jim Henson’s short run series “The Storyteller”. It was because the voice which spoke them mesmerized me. When John Hurt told a story, you listened.

In the wake of his passing, I re-watched this television series with a fresh sense of respect. The voice which sanctioned a hunt for the Black Cauldron, declared his humanity to a judgmental Victorian world, screamed in agony at the parasite within him (twice), raised Hellboy, helped a wand choose a wizard, and dared to tell the Time Lords “No more”, that was one of the first voices which made me want to write.

It’s a strange connection, yes, but it’s how it happened. Hurt brought Minghella’s versions old fairy tales to life by simply speaking in the way he always did. He filled each word with humor, tragedy, and adventure. It made me want to be able to put together words worthy of such a reading. And I will miss that voice.

Ending of January – Some words from the ancients

My month is coming to a close. For those of you who have survived my month, but are not entirely sure who you should be thanking, let me clue you in. I am Juno (or Hera to the Greeks), as in queen of the gods, the protector of marriage and childbirth. Now that we have the fifth grade mythology lesson out of the way, allow me to inform you of ways you can pay homage to me if you survived MY month. That’s right! January belongs to me, not that two-faced Janus. Just remember, if you do not do as I ask, there is still time for me to make what’s left of this month awful for you.

If did make it to February unscathed, here are some things you can do to thank me:

1) Trap Jupiter a.k.a. Zeus in a horrible prison for several centuries

2) Post humiliating pictures of Jupiter on your ever useful in-ter-net.

3) Troll Jupiter’s latest floozy. The internet has so many uses!

4) Bully Jupiter’s latest demi-god offspring. I can give you exact addresses as needed, but trust me it won’t be hard. Most of them are on twitter ALL THE TIME.

5) Give to me— Hey!

Hey there folks – Janus here. Pay no attention to the crazy Roman lady. I’m taking back this month, even if you don’t know who I am. I am not going to demand tribute or insist upon punishment. Here is all I am going to say: Remember that I am the god of beginnings, transitions, and endings. If the start of 2017 was amazing for you, then use that. Make February just as good. If January was less-than-grand, then guess what! You get to start over. If you don’t believe me, just wait and see.

Now, excuse me while I witch-slap a Roman deity.

Cat on the Laptop - A Tale of Woe

Cat’s typing: Kafienaknu knaioeomklvnu ksndfuvbueianfoijhiylhg’io;ujfki pow344fklh0-ofdik

Writer’s swearing: Get the hell off of there! No, you cannot lay there! Why are you purring at me? Don’t think you can purr your way out of this. Oh. You rubbed your chin on my hand. And you did that cute silent meow thing. Damn it. Fine. Lay wherever you want.

Cat's thinking: Sucker.

On the Subject of Ghosts - A Blog in Opposing Views = #3 Ned

Damn it, Max. Ever since you posted that the living should pay attention to ghosts, people keep looking for my cold spots and walking right through me. You know how weird that feels! My space has been violated!

Just for this, I’m going to haunt you. That’s right! Prepare for my wraith. As soon as I can figure out how to get to wherever you are, there will be a ghost war! Get ready, people. It’ll be like Poltergeist meets The Conjuring meets. . . Death Becomes Her! Okay, I haven’t seen a lot of movies, but it’ll be creepy as hell!

On the Subject of Ghosts: A Blog in Opposing Views = View #1 – Ned

I’ll begin with my credentials on this subject – I’m a ghost. Don’t believe me? Look out your window and — Boo!

Did you actually think I would be there? Did you think that ghosts can just appear wherever like in a cheesy horror movie? Oy.

And that brings me to the purpose of this blog. I am going to set the record straight about ghosts with 3 simple facts. Hopefully these facts will stop ghost hunters from disrespecting our rest and using us for ratings on bad T.V. shows.

1) Ghosts can’t fly or float around at will like a certain fictional character in a red cape. If we are floating around, it’s because we are focused too much on being dead and forgetting to put our feet on the ground. What could possibly cause us to focus on our deaths? Oh, I don’t know. Maybe a film crew and their idiot host wandering through our homes and cemeteries, calling us out! Yes, we can hear you. You are loud.

2) Ghosts can manipulate electrical equipment. We don’t have much to do throughout our long, sleepless days so we mess with your lights, your computers, and your coffee maker. Sooooo much fun watching people swear at their coffee makers. And you all blame this on wiring or gremlins. Give credit where credit is due! We work hard to make our afterlives more interesting.

3) Ghosts can forget. Our lives can slip away from us. Some people have no memories at all left, just emotions, including bitterness and aggression. So, stop asking us stupid questions we don’t know the answer to. If you asked three times, “How did you die?” and we don’t answer, chances are that we don’t know either. Keep asking an angry ghost the same question over and over, guess what. You might end up with a new poltergeist for a roommate.

And there is it. What to remember to be respectful to a ghost, from a ghost. Don’t let anyone tell you differently.

This is me and I am blogging. This is blogging and I am me.

With 2016 still leaving a bad taste in so many mouths, it is important to inject humor into whatever future 2017 has in store for us. That’s right – it’s time for a blog. Kira Shay and I will be posting separate blogs a couple of times week.

The format of these short writings will change depending on our whims. While some posts shall be commentary of the processes of researching, writing, and publishing which so many writers go through, a majority of these will be from the point-of-view of our characters. Our goal is to entertain and distract from whatever 2017 hits you with. Prepare to learn. Prepare to laugh. Prepare to join us as we beat the proverbial crap out of 2016 stress with some amazing 2017 commentary.