I'm not here!

It's true, I'm missing in action. I may in fact be floating in the lake right now, drinking a beer. Or perhaps playing in the water with Little Danger. Or even fishing. There's just no telling...but hopefully, I'm having fun. If you miss me like I bet I'm missing you, here's a few things you can read to laugh at my words.

Twelve Inches of Fun: the one that started it all.

The Epic Fishing Trip, part 1 and part 2: Days long gone, but fondly remembered.

Choosy Moms Choose... : Wherein I embarassed a mother of the bride.

The Lies We Are Told: When we deal with depression, we need help.

My Fiction Site: I might be working on more entries for this right now, actually. I brought things along to work on. Take a look at the chapters available, and let me know what you think...I love constructive criticism and blatant "attaboys".

Whether I'm scotch-addled or perfectly sober right now, I know I'm looking forward to catching up with you guys again. Expect a long how-it-went when I get back!

Friday fun!

While you're reading this, I'm on the way to a vacation at the Lake. We'll be having a cruise of sorts, taking the houseboat out for a week. Granted, there won't be any shows or buffets...but we plan on eating well, using the smoker and the grill. On the plus side, we don't have to X-ray our luggage or spend fuckety-thousand dollars, which is a huge plus indeed. We've got everything lined up...housesitter, bill payments, etc...

What I don't have is new blog stuff for next week, unless we magically have an internet connection in the middle of the lake. I'll be posting a "suggested reading" post to show off past entries I like.

As for this week, here's the fun I had when I wasn't here over at Sprocket Ink!

We discussed how NOT to give your dad the finger.

We discussed what to do when sharks FLY.


Have a great week, and I'll see you when I get back!

Scotchy Scotch, vol 9

Today we share a wee dram again. Relax, kick up your heels, and straighten your kilt...this time our bottle is Caol Ila.

Caol Ila is an Islay Scotch, brought to us by a distillery founded in 1846. As an Islay, it’s got an attitude like B.A. Baracus, landing on the palate like an avalanche. I love an aggressive Scotch from time to time, and Caol Ila doesn’t disappoint. It’s not as high on the chart for sheer brutality as Laphroaig or Ardbeg, but it definitely slaps your tongue around like Chris Brown on a bender.

The taste brings to mind the two main features of an Islay almost immediately: peat and the salt air of an oceanside distiller. There’s a long finish on this one that makes those notes linger, a quick inhale through the mouth after a sip will refresh the flavor, making Scotch haters launch into a hacking cough immediately. If that cough is present, you know the drinker isn’t worth their kilt, and you have my permission to call them a Philistine, ladyboy, or plain simple wuss, as the company dictates.

This is another of the affordable scotches I love. If I don’t have to spend over $50, a bottle is much more likely to find its way to the Scotch shelf of the Pyrate Pub’s bar.

Sadly, I wasn’t able to share this with Ruffstuff to get his opinion. He begged to know why I wanted to punish him when I offered him a taste. We Scotch drinkers have a much refined sense of taste, it seems.

Affordability, strong flavor, and a long finish make this one a fine choice for anyone wanting an Islay taste. Caol Ila, remember it…and Slainte!

Five Things I Think, 18 July

Monday has beaten me with a tire iron, but because I love you people I'm putting fingers to keyboard instead of folding myself in a desk drawer as if I were crossing a border and leaving my co-workers to wonder where the snoring is coming from. I'm a giver.

1) I think Little Danger enjoyed his 1st birthday party. He received some creative and awesome presents, because my friends and family are A) awesome B) insane C) freaks D) all of the above. The correct answer is, of course, D. My child has a rocking panda to ride on, people. It's insane and wonderful. It was a full day with awesome people, and I might have enjoyed it more than he did.

It was a big weekend for the boy...he had his first trip to the zoo, his first birthday party, and a full day of playing with his "Memaw" and "PopPop" and cousins.

"Too...much...fun...must nap..."

2) I think I am overjoyed to have some long-remote friends back in the local area. There are some friendships that just resume after pause, and such it is with these. Their kids have nearly a decade of growth since last we were face-to-face, and it was awesome getting to know them. They have some impressive progeny indeed. I give bonus points to any child who can intelligently converse on the building of a trebuchet and the use of an atlatl, and double bonus to the parents that I hold dear. Future hangings out are a moral imperative.

3) I think I had a geekgasm last night. My friend Monsterman came over to discuss the upcoming return of the Haunted trail with me, and we tossed ideas and laughter about in equal measure. There were gory, creepy, disgusting, scary, wonderful ideas. He flung ideas at me like a monkey flinging poo. Off-putting, perhaps, but effective.

4) I think Saturday was a very fine day, indeed. Wifefish and I dropped Little Danger off with his "Memaw" and "PopPop", and hosted a marathon session of Dark Heresy with a very fine group of gamers. It was a day filled with intrigue, challenge, the sounds of rolling dice and the smells of food in the oven. I have long adored the interactive story-telling of a day at a game table, a pleasure reaching all the way back to 6th grade Dungeons and Dragons games under the shade tree on the school playground. The quality of the stories has grown over the years, but the childish joy has remained constant.

5) I think I'm tired of this bullshit we call an economy, and these bullshit artists running the political circus. I'm in sales, and I can tell you that at least 4 industries are just scared to spend money right now. That has a direct effect on my paycheck, and thus money is just effing tight right now. I keep hoping I'm done juggling bills, only to find that the summer months bring an oppressive heat not only to the air, but to my checking account. I keep myself in good spirits only by counting blessings, by reminding myself forcefully that I have technological marvels at my fingertips, a Little Danger to cuddle and giggle with, and many more joys. Stressing over a bill or twelve seems silly in comparison. So why can't I banish that stress completely?

And so the week begins, a complex jumble of joys upon joys, its blue sky of opportunity threatened only by a few grey clouds of stress. What's making you happy today?

Stay awesome!
PS: If you haven't availed yourself of the "follow" buttons all over this blog...why not? Stick around, we have a load of fun here.

Friday Fun

And here we are at a Friday. It strikes me that I'm about to go into uber-busy mode, my vacation and work travel season. Time to stock up on the coffee! As is the new tradition, begun today, here's what I did when I wasn't here.


First up, my articles at the very awesome Sprocket Ink!

A tale of baseball, taxes, and doing the right thing.

A tale of the coolest Star Wars game that we can't have.

In fiction, I finished up a Zarkov adventure in the world of Dark Heresy.


Please check 'em out, and have a FANTASTIC weekend!

Things I Hate: Reality Revisited

There is a joy to writing, the crafting of the written word to caress the reader’s mind, informing it or entertaining it, perhaps even touching another human heart through moving words. Great works of literature abound, words strung together to echo humankind’s trials and travails and triumphs.

And then there’s this shit.

As if it weren’t enough that reality TV had to take a dump all over our culture and our lexicon, it’s just been announced that Snooki is writing a second book. You read that right…book number TWO. Now, I may be living proof that anyone with a pulse and a keyboard can look in a mirror and delude themselves into thinking themselves a writer, but this takes even Buddy’s cake.

I can guarantee you this…I would allow someone to use a pacemaker on me as a suppository before I’d read this. I’d have my testicles laminated before reading either of Snooki’s bookies, and that’s not a euphemism for her rack. It may be the finest example of prose this side of paradise, and yet I will do vodka eyeball shots before polluting my peepers with the pages of this publication.

These celebutards from “the Shore” have spread into culture like some plague. Snooki’s writing, Situation is mangling stand up comedy, and What’s-his-face is on commercials every 17 goddamn minutes trying to make me lose weight. In order, these are someone who I can’t decide if it’s a Butterface or a Butterball, a dude most famous for lifting his shirt, and a guy I can’t remember amongst JWHO and some other chick. What an amazing cast.

I’ll repeat the refrain: I just don’t get how a bunch of schadenfreude train wrecks make it to celebrity status. Athletes? Sure. Actors? I get it. Musicians? Yeah, ok. Astronauts? Hell YES. But when I realize that more people can tell me the entire cast of Jersey Shore than the 4 astronauts on board the Atlantis right now (or for that matter on the first fucking moon landing), it just pisses me right the hell off. (By the way, that’s Christopher Ferguson, Doug Hurley, Rex Walheim, and Sandy Magnus. Take that.)

Why are our heroes made up of people who’s most endearing qualities are their ability to drink and screw and yell? Doesn’t that imply how totally screwed we are? Perhaps I simply infer.

And let me be honest…I don’t necessarily think these folks are wrong for cashing in, and certainly not for their behaviour. Heck, I’ve had a few parties that might put the Gweeds and Gweedettes to shame. It’s the disproportionate veneration that bugs me.

Can we pay Italy to just keep them? Can we create an island of misfit reality stars?

And so, I salute you again, reality TV. This time with two fingers. One on each hand. Guess which ones. May you swiftly be washed away from our televisions, before someone decides The Running Man is actually a good idea.

5 Things I Think, July 11

And here we are at another Monday. I hope your weekend was fantastic, whatever you did. Here's my five things today...

1) I think I had fun auditioning for the dream role. Sadly, I didn't get it. I was called back, but lost out to a hellaciously talented dude that will do an excellent job. At least, he'd better, or I'm shanking him in the parking lot. The show is the musical Jekyll and Hyde, and I'm still going to be in it. I'll be playing the part of Simon Stride, a role I've played once before. He's an absolute prick, the very antithesis of Dangerboy. Villains are fun. Some of my favorite roles have been bad boys. It'll be nice to be on stage again.


2) I think it was a fantastic weekend. We invited some dear close friends to spend it with us on the houseboat at the lake. As it was also Little Danger's first birthday, it was filled to the brim with smiles and laughter.
Watching him take some of his first steps (he started Thursday) on a rolling deck was a special treat. Enjoying his giggling applesauce frenzy was a thing of beauty, despite the apple shrapnel.

A special thanks to the friends who shared it with us...you are a treasure to this pirate. (Which believe me, is a better turn of phrase than "cheese to this river rat.")
Eating cake is serious business, folks.

3) I think my to-do list has launched some conspiracy with the house to overwhelm me. The mundane tasks and minor repairs have stacked up, demanding time and money as they always do. I am suffering a shortage of both at the moment, and not doing myself any favors in either category. This is admittedly a minor gripe, a blister or a splinter that is certainly annoying, but easy to live with.

4) I think it was a moment filled with contradictions, holding my son on his 1st birthday, watching the last shuttle launch. I certainly teared up a bit, as I watched Atlantis hurtle off its pad to slip the surly bonds of earth. Something ended. Someone is beginning.
I wonder if he will be able to look at the stars and dream, if the age of American space exploration is winding down as is feared. Or will it be easier for him, as private industry rushes to fill the gap NASA has left? Or will he even care to reach a star...will he be intrigued by fossils instead, or fuel injection, or computer coding, or marine biology, or something far different? I will not fill him with my dreams, but will help him to achieve his own. Dream big, Little Danger. Wifefish and I have got your back.

5) I think it's important not to get too attached to the way things are supposed to be. As a frivolous example, I lost the notes to the Rogue Trader game I'm running, in the middle of a cliffhanger. I had to reinvent most of what the villains, rivals, and allies of the players were motivated by and planning. It turned out better by far than the original plan, and I pulled a great deal of it out of my imagination at the table. True, it's just a game...but the lesson is still sound. Remain flexible and fast on your feet, and you can make calamity into something far better.
But I'm still saving it in an easier place to remember this time.


Here's what I did last week when I wasn't here, over at Sprocket Ink.

I talked about the end of Star Wars Galaxies.

I talked about a guy who blew his head off...with fireworks.


Have a great Monday, gang!

A Trip Down Nostalgia Street vol 10

It’s time for another trip into the wayback machine. We’re setting our sights this time on 1981, and on one of the classics that graced the Atari 2600 in my house. Get ready gang, because it’s on…it’s on like Donkey Kong.

Worst. Label. Ever.

The hours of frustration that hatched from the simple act of guiding a plumber up a series of ramps and ladders while ducking barrels and fireballs were countless. It bears mentioning that I had no idea they were fireballs back then…on the 2600 they looked like ducks. Fiery rubber ducks of doom. Hey, I was 7.

"Beavers and DUCKS!"

Nobody knew that this title would spark an absolute revolution in gaming, giving us our first glimpse of that intrepid adventuring plumber, Mario. There are over 50 titles for various platforms that trace their lineage directly to Donkey Kong. That’s a freaking franchising fantasy, folks.

The original Donkey Kong was a jumping platformer, counting on timing and planning to get up the ladders to the princess…over and over and over again. DK would flee between two levels, the ramps-n-barrels uphill slog and the fire-duck-pit-of-doom parallel platform fest, showing as much variety as the North Korean Baskin Robbins (Vanilla or headshot.)

Those aren't pepperoni pizzas, either.

The red button was used to jump (boodoo do woooodoo), the joystick itself to move side to side (dit dit dit dit dit dit dit) to avoid the barrels (boodoodleeeooo boodoo do wooodoo). Those parentheticals right there are for those who played the game…you’re welcome for that weeks long earbug. (Also, I just caused spellcheck to completely throw in the towel.)

Donkey Kong was an addictively simple game, one that left you yearning for high scores day after day. I can still recall rampant feelings of jealousy at my big brother’s scores, the desire to kick him in the shin when I couldn’t keep up with his barrel-hopping madness. I may have given in to that desire from time to time. I may have suffered a few noogies for my insolence. I do have to concede the household high score to him, though. I never mastered his barrel-jump-hammer-grab-barrel smash scorebuilding technique. But then, he never mastered collecting Scotch, so we’ll call it even.

I remember Donkey Kong fondly. It may not have been among my favorites of all time, but it sure was a lot of fun to monkey around on Nostalgia Street.

It’s time for another trip into the wayback machine. We’re setting our sights this time on 1981, and on one of the classics that graced the Atari 2600 in my house. Get ready gang, because it’s on…it’s on like Donkey Kong.

The hours of frustration that hatched from the simple act of guiding a plumber up a series of ramps and ladders while ducking barrels and fireballs were countless. It bears mentioning that I had no idea they were fireballs back then…on the 2600 they looked like ducks. Fiery rubber ducks of doom. Hey, I was 7.

Nobody knew that this title would spark an absolute revolution in gaming, giving us our first glimpse of that intrepid adventuring plumber, Mario. There are over 50 titles for various platforms that trace their lineage directly to Donkey Kong. That’s a freaking franchising fantasy, folks.

The original Donkey Kong was a jumping platformer, counting on timing and planning to get up the ladders to the princess…over and over and over again. DK would flee between two levels, the ramps-n-barrels uphill slog and the fire-duck-pit-of-doom parallel platform fest, showing as much variety as the North Korean Baskin Robbins (Vanilla or headshot.)

The red button was used to jump (boodoo do woooodoo), the joystick itself to move side to side (dit dit dit dit dit dit dit) to avoid the barrels (boodoodleeeooo boodoo do wooodoo). Those parentheticals right there are for those who played the game…you’re welcome for that weeks long earbug. (Also, I just caused spellcheck to completely throw in the towel.)

Donkey Kong was an addictively simple game, one that left you yearning for high scores day after day. I can still recall rampant feelings of jealousy at my big brother’s scores, the desire to kick him in the shin when I couldn’t keep up with his barrel-hopping madness. I may have given in to that desire from time to time. I may have suffered a few noogies for my insolence. I do have to concede the household high score to him, though. I never mastered his barrel-jump-hammer-grab-barrel smash scorebuilding technique. But then, he never mastered collecting Scotch, so we’ll call it even.

I remember Donkey Kong fondly. It may not have been among my favorites of all time, but it sure was a lot of fun to monkey around on Nostalgia Street.

And now here's a present...you can play the original Donkey Kong right here!

What was your favorite frustrating game?

5 Things I Think, July 4th

1) I think it's a great day for blowing shit up. We seem to have a preoccupation with making things go "Boom" here in the States, equating explosions with patriotism: it's even in the song..."the bombs bursting in air." I have many great fireworks memories, and one or two "damn that was stupid" recollections to go with them.
From exploding cake (you had to be there) to a good episode of Mythbusters, it all goes better with a bang. I hope your Independence Day rocks socks. For my overseas friends, I hope your Monday didn't suck.

2) I think I earned a Daddy badge of honor Saturday. It was a stressful one for Little Danger, beginning as it did with an emptying of breakfast and last night's dinner all over Dangerboy. I was proud not to join in his impromptu festivities.
Wifefish is a goddamn saint and woke up to my plaintive cries (mine, not the boy) to help, as somehow he'd created a dimensional portal and produced a week's worth of bottle contents. There are some showers that feel heavenly, and Saturday's was one of them. Between the formula fountain fiasco, a case of mudbutt, and running his upper lip right into the corner of a speaker, it was a pitiful day for Little Danger.

3) I think it's going to be a wild week. I have an audition for an absolute dream role, which is actually two roles. If I get this, it'll be the awesomest ever. If not, well at least I won't be kicking myself in the ass for not trying. Add to that the shortness of the week, two article deadlines at Sprocket Ink, and heading off early for another trip to the lake...well, the whirlwind metaphors abound.

4) I think three weeks away from foam fighting Sundays is likely one too many. I have soreness in a few places, and sweated off 3 1/2 pounds yesterday. The old man can still hang, though, and I gave quite a few thwacks for each of these sore spots. They were well purchased.
The next step I'm taking on this whole staying fit thing is to cut soda almost completely...I'll allow it as a treat or last resort if I'm out and about, but trimming it from my work day is going to have a huge impact. It was a choice to give up soda or beer...that's a true no-brainer.

5) I think I'm dumbfounded that I'm staring down the barrel of Little Danger's 1st birthday. It's been a hell of a year, one in which we've watched him go from a dream to a little potato to a little boy, on the verge of his first unassisted steps. I blinked, and it's time to give him his first cake. He also has his first foam flail, with which he bonks Wifefish and I on any available real estate. It's funny...I know his cry, but I can summon the sound of his giggle with far greater ease. I think I'm going to go tickle him right now, actually. Who needs impulse control?


That's my five for the day...have a fantastic day, and remember your fireworks safety...I don't wanna see anybody changing their screen name to "Stumps."

Friday Freakout

It's been a good week. I may be broke, but I'm rich where it counts. Today I'm just doing a bit of housekeeping, but I have big news to share. I'll just get this out right out of the gate...
I joined the gang at Sprocket Ink!!!

Sprocket Ink is a humor meets news "webazine". Whereas the Onion presents satirical news, the awesome gang at Sprocket is like a virtual water cooler...we take the "Did you see this SHIT?" angle of snark and current events.

To that end, I think I'm going to start a new Friday feature here. Sharing links to blogs I like, and of course letting you know what I did when I wasn't here. It'll be small. That gives me a regular Monday and Friday thing, and I can do meaty humor during the week. Weekends are still for not looking at a computer and getting some outdoor air. :)

I intend to keep doing everything I do here...no dialing it in with mini-posts or slacking off for me.

Now please, come join me for my first article at Sprocket Ink!