Her name is...

She sat with a silence in her eyes, a strange distance hung between her and her surroundings. The thin air drifted slowly below each nostril, diluted with strange smells, cigarettes and spilled pineapple juice, a foreign cologne, urinal cakes. Beneath her worn, but loved shoes, hard oak floor boards ran parallel to her purse, darting back and forth between the chairs and tables, ending at the dirty baseboard, only to return again.

One hand clung softly to the bottom of a tall pint, it’s thick glass bottom drenched in condensation. Slowly the droplets began collecting around her fingers. Each sip brought the pale yellow fluid down another level, leaving a small ring of tiny bubbles, which popped slowly while it sat. Her other hand stood at attention, each finger tip connecting to the high table top, the finger nails tapping on the lacquer. Slowly, and with the harmony of a hidden music box, each of the unpainted nails fell into the shinny thick surface, clicking one after the other. A rhythmic tune of David Bowie danced through the atmosphere, bouncing from one ear to another.

Two black pupils surrounded by sapphire sat wide, blurring vision, as her train of thought carried strange ideas in and out of a twisted imagination. Quickly, like tiny implosions, each pupil shot into tiny points, as two brown bottles smashed into the red tiled floor below, creating small piles of wet sharp refuse. Slowly the fuzzy surroundings came into focus, there staring back at her was Christ.

“Who puts that kind of thing in a bar?” She thought silently, as Jesus hung still, staring back at her. His face was bloody, more bloody then any other icon she had ever seen. Vandalism perhaps? A tall frat boy with a red sharpie marker made short order of the statue, in what any self respecting Grandmother would refer to as “unspeakable.” A sadness over came her. Jesus had a way of doing this to her, not that he had any influence on her actions, but the story of his life was one with little happy moments. Being strewn up on a cross is not a good way to go. But hey, he made his choice... right?

Below the ominous omnipotent a gaggle of young girls and their respective older boyfriends gathered around a table. An invisible social wall had been erected between them, the girls chatted together on one side, as the men bumped chests and bragged on the other. Neither side made eye contact, save for the occasional man asking his woman for a beer. Treating her like suffrage had never been thought up, making him just one heck of a guy. One of the girls had a strange color pair of pants. These did not make her look very good, in fact one could argue she looked like a miss informed pirate.

Sitting lifeless on her chest was a small pendant. As her fingers became numb from the cold beer, and her fingernails sore from the tapping, she pushed back from the table and stood tall. The pendant swayed back and forth, riding slowly over each breast, only to come back to the small cleft formed by her favorite bra. This small cleft caught the attention of every man as she strode slowly from her chair to the door, each set of eyes peering at her chest, including the female bartender. The bouncer, intently staring at her cleavage, asked if she needed an escort, this notion made her scoff, if only internally.

Kiss Me.

The soft wetness of their lips parted for a moment, still her tongue clung desperately to tips of her teeth, waiting to pounce once again. Out of breath he drew in a long and slow spot of air, taking in every single one of her smells. Her breath, her skin, her hair. His hand slid up and grasped her cheek, grinned and leaned forward. Her tongue pounced.

Jupiter's Winter Jasmine

Your poetic form escapes words, being something of pure simplicity.
Skin like silk runs taught, teasing and tempting, begging for touch.
Two pools of fine sapphires dance hypnotically on your face, sending me into a trance.
Each fingertip traces sensually across me, helping me to forget.
Instead only memories of tranquility and joy run through my mind.
Two bodies. Two minds.
Fitting together like souls bound from Genesis, waiting for this moment.

TweetContest Adventure

When you have a small business or a fun product you are trying to promote the best thing to do is advertise, but there are so many options when you want to advertise. Why not do something fun? So when TweetContest contacted me asking if I wanted to sponsor, it was a no brainer. The two guys behind this site are great, clever, and awesome at marketing. They have an army of Tweet users at their disposal. Over 6,000 people follow TweetContest, and over 6,000 people following their original concept called TweetBomb. Every day at 4:44 PM EST they dish out something new, and people come back every day looking for some fun. They ask a question, provide a link, push people to your site. And what happens when they don’t win? They go to the site and buy. But regardless of who wins and loses, when you sponsor a TweetContest you become a Tweet celebrity for the day, and that is a great deal of fun.

Tough Tweety - A LapMonster

Today on TweetContest they are giving away one of my LapMonsters! (See the Etsy bar to the right)

Here he is: Tough Tweety

Sometimes you want to quit....

As the inevitable dawn sets on the souls of thousands, here lies the ideas and hopes of one man, tattered and stressed, searching for release.

The 'Who' Condom

So recently at a rehearsal, one of the women in our show also works at an HIV clinic and gave us all a small pack of condoms, lube, health materials. It was nice of her. Opening up the pack last night to see what was inside, I discovered the amazing condoms she gave us. They were orange, green, and blue and looked like something straight out of a Dr. Seuss Book. I told everyone, it was hilarious, and my buddy aptly named it the 'Who' Condom....

Which in term inspired this:

On the evening of February third, feeling aroused like a bird, the Mayor of Whoville made a small trip. Sliding down the odd pipes, and scooting just right, he entered the Den of Who-Trix.

With a whip in her hand, she stood there and scanned, awaiting her next customer. When in stumbled a Who, she already knew, the rubbers that he would be after.

He dished out the coins, and jiggled his loins, bouncing joyfully out of the store. His grin was quite large, in his pants was a barge, for tonight he was going to score!

Oh, later that night, with joy and delight, he slipped on his glorious glove. It sparkled and gleamed, with oranges and greens, for without it there could be no Love.

Then the mayor of Who, oh he did the Do, for hours on end with his spouse. After fourteen long sessions, she made a suggestion, that she take top, and undo her blouse!

From the bed to the floor, the Who Couple did roar, but then realized their fatal mistake. Like all the times prior, the condom package read 'EXPIRE', leaving cause for a new Birthday Cake.

The Mayor was quite calm, being used to this bomb, he sat quietly attempting to enjoy. While trying to cope, he suddenly filled with large hope, as his wife announced 'FINALLY A BOY!'

Neatorama and the Upcoming Que

Writing a title like that to a post makes me want to write a short story. A story about a little boy named Neat O. Rama and his adventures with his big hairy monster friend Que, a relatively young beast that has the wondrous ability to find the little things in life and make them big, fun, and share them with everyone. Que gets his fun little ideas from tiny little monsters who scurry about here and there, dropping by to visit Que in his large domain full of windows and holes, and quite often Que will reward it's loyal busy monster helpers with fun gifts. So he encourages everyone to visit him, suggest fun topics, and tell him if the ones he has are good or not.

Certainly Neatorama is a place where everyone should visit at least once a day, and if you are like myself, you find that instead of just once a day, you are clicking on your Bookmarked link several times a day. The rich and healthy plethora of editors and admins made Neat a place truly unique, unlike Plime or Digg, Neat presented links in a way that caught your eye, pulled you in, and sat you down for a good time. Now with the introduction of the Que, people like myself, who love to find odd things or write interesting stuff are given a chance to shine. It may take some of us a few tries to figure out what the crew wants, but once you do, you are sure to submit some solid material.

I had over the years learned as much as I could about Ghostbusters, and being a huge fan of the Movie trivia thing they do, decided to try it out. So I made the post in my blog, and then copied it over to Neat. But thankfully the Admin (Alex), took my post, cropped it down to a few trivia tidbits, and linked my site appropriately. Causing people to poke their head into my page, but still get a nice healthy chunk of Ghostbusters knowledge all along.

Neatorama is a well groomed, healthy site that offers its readers prizes, contests, and oddities that keep me coming back for more. Like Pavlov's dog, just by the mention of Neatorama my geeky web fingers start to itch.

Movie Trivia: Ghostbusters

From the moment I was born until now there has been one film that has always been my favorite. That movie is 'Ghostbusters.' Released in 1984, this film has done nothing but make me laugh. Here is some memorable and interesting trivia that you may not have known:



* Originally written by Dan Akyroyd to be a film about space traveling groups of high tech Ghostbusters. A concept what was so out of range budget wise it was rewritten.

* The Stay Puft Marshmallow man doesnt only make an appearance at the end of the movie, he is also seen twice before. In Dana Barrett's apartment, next to the eggs on the counter there is a bag of Stay Puft, and in one of the outdoor scenes an ad for Stay Puft can be seen on one of the buildings.

* Some six scenes were reshot to be included in TV showings, replacing lines like ‘Dickless here’ to ‘Wally Wick’, and ‘I’ve seen s**t that would turn you white’ to ‘I’ve seen stuff...’ Check them out here: Ghostbustersdotnet's Youtube account.

* Universal Studios theme spawned live shows, parades, and musical numbers all revolving around the Ghostbusters. While the Ghostbusters rarely make appearances anymore, in the park you can still find a large firehouse facade with ‘Paranormal Investigators’ painted on the door.



* Several roles were written for different actors in mind, ‘Winston Zeddimore’ was written for Eddie Murphy, but he declined the role. ‘Louis Tully’ was originally written for John Candy, and ‘Peter Venkmen’ was written for John Belushi. John Candy didnt accept the role, and unfortunately Belushi passed away before a final draft. Dan Akyroyd would joke that Slimer (originally called Onion Head) was actually the ghost of Belushi.

* The Ghostbusters Fire House is located at North Moore, & Varick St. in New York, NY. They have the large white Ghosbuster II sign hanging in their bay.

* Casey Kasem does a voice-over cameo as himself on his radio show after the Ghostbusters become famous. The ditzy blonde woman that Louis dances with at his party is played by Casey's wife, Jean Kasem.

* Producers had trouble over the title of the movie, as a cartoon previously exsisted called the Ghost Busters, a Scooby Doo mystery type cartoon that featured a large gorilla. After a legal battle the name rights were secured.



* To promote the film, the Ectomobile was driven around Manhattan prior to the release. In the middle of the film's initial release, to keep interest going, Ivan Reitman had a trailer run, which was basically the commercial the Ghostbusters' use in the movie, but with the 555 number replaced with a 1-800 number, allowing people to call. They got a recorded message of Bill Murray and Dan Aykroyd saying something to the effect of "Hi. We're out catching ghosts right now." They got 1,000 calls per hour, 24 hours a day, for six weeks.

* The Tools: The Proton pack wands had bulbs in the barrel of the guns, that emitted a bright flash each time they were used, allowing the special effects guys to synch up the beams. In Dana’s apartment, Venkmen uses a small bulb machine that he squeezes, its a real device that actually measures gas levels in the air.

* For the role of Gozer, David Bowie was wanted, but the production was to far into shooting to cast a famous person. So the woman who plays Gozer is a Czech fashion model, during the shooting she used her own voice, and had a very heavy accent. It was only after Bill Murray mistook her ‘Choose and Perish!’ with ‘Jews and Berries!’ that it was decided to dub the voice.

* Several scenes were shot and never added to the film, like Akyroyd and Murray as bums arguing in the park as Luis Tully gets chased down by the dog. Some scenes, like the guys getting their own haunting were cut down and re-editied to make the scene with the floating sex ghost. One of the best examples of this is in the Ectomobile, there is a shot where Murray double takes the driver and then has a queesy look on his face. This scene was originally written for a ghost to have taken over Stantz's body and make him drive crazily. Instead the interior and driving shots were reused as fillers between scenes.

* Originally the movie started with a black Ectomobile shooting out of the open garage of GB HQ, but Reitman thought it would be better to go into how the Ghostbusters were formed, and the color of the Ectomobile was changed due to fears it would be hard to see during allt he night shooting.

(Trivia gathered from IMDB, Movie Commentary, and my uber fan boy knowledge.)

Special Effects Coordinator - Harriet Cocks

The last few people had passed under the ‘Exit’ sign, dropping their empty bags and soda cups into large shiny plastic trash bins that lined the doorways. Scattered across the floor sat napkins, crumpled and used, popcorn kernels yellow with the artificial butter, stamped unmercifully upon the cold grey floor to a flat cake. Its bizarre that no matter what time of the year you go to a theatre its always cold. One should never wear sandals, without bringing a pair warm socks in their pocket, for fear of their poor toes freezing off. Movie theaters always seem to be kept at a cool sixty degrees. Strange, inhospitable, distant, no one ever likes it, not a take your jacket off kinda atmosphere.

For the past four and a half minutes the credits have been rolling, they have passed the important people that deserved to be named one at a time and have entered into the realm of speedy delivery. Rows of three and four start to appear, lists of technical grips and animation slaves. They had always played this game, sitting staring intently their eyes darting from one white sliding name to the next. The goal was simple, find a name that stood out and made you laugh, and then try to get the other person to see the name before it disappears. Of course your B martial arts films were the most fun; as a plethora of ‘Wang’s and ‘Ho’s appear. Some names are funny; ‘Titterson’ some awfully bizarre; ‘Harriet Cocks.’

Today though, he didn't seem interested at all in the credits. Today he couldn't take his eyes off her, they traced her cheek bones, moved back along the stems of her glasses and wrapped down around her ears. Her neck was covered in goosebumps, well what is to be expected in such frosty theaters. Bouncing back and forth, up and down her eyes attempted to cover each portion of the screen, biting down on her lip, her front row of teeth, not perfect white, each reflected the light from low glow lanterns hanging about. She was perfect, not a single thing could be changed in his eyes.

‘Oh man! Look quick, I think his last name is seriously Penis!’ Her face twirled around, meeting his. She paused, not expecting to meet his eyes, not expecting the boy she sat with to be pining over her. A brief moment between them hung in the air, silence, the soft roll of the underscore in the distance, the two had been pulled out of the realm of reality and now hug suspended in limbo. Their eyes locked, soundlessly they spoke thousands of words.

From the speakers roared the strings, pulling hard on their bows, producing a huge, gorgeous sound, quickening in pace.

His hand extended up, the dry, soft fingertips rolling across the goose bumped skin. Slowly each finger drew past her ear and down across the stem of her glasses landing on her distinct cheek bone.

The brass join in, the drums pound harder. Each measure of the score move towards a climax of symphonic bliss. An invisible ghostly conductor moves his hands briskly through the air, and in one mighty swoop the orchestra erupts in beautiful music.

His lips slowly leave hers and she sits there, motionless. She blinks, once, then twice. Reaching forward she places her hand on his shoulder, and pulls him back to her, and takes him in, sharing their warmth and love in an otherwise cold dark place. They are gone from the world, hidden from life for a brief moment.

Slowly across the screen rises the name, ‘Maxi Humperdink.’