Episode #161: Liquid Or Dry, I Spy With My Little Eye

My darling daughter, who is now 22. Man, I feel so old.

{Please imagine a New England Redneck is reading this to you, with a John Cusack lilt}

One of the strangest requests that I genuinely received for a review of, was from Staples for the modern day version of white out. No, not what you experience while driving nor what woke college students profusely apologize for when they went to a high school that was 96% white.

I'm talking about dry liner, you know, the hand held version of the old typewriter correction tape (please tell me you remember what a typewriter is). Now I know what you must be saying to yourself, "Good God, No! Please, no!" in a voice dripping so heavy with sarcasm that you need to use a saucepan to catch the drippings.

Now, I'm one of those Office Luddites who came so late to the party that he was early for the next. You know what an Office Luddite is, right? We've all had one of those. The person who uses office supplies so old that they were already removed from the official inventory (like #3 pencils). The person who is always finding ways not to spend money on expensive supplies. The person who prefers the product created by Michael Neismith's mother, Liquid Paper.

Now don't get me wrong, I love me some liquid paper (no, no getting high for me, thanks). LOVE ME LIQUID PAPER. Love me a good Democrat politician too, but alas they're an extinct species.

Anywho, back to dry liner.

Like, what the hell am I suppose to write for a review?

"Well Jim, I was able to create really purty straight lines with that white out, just like the kind Reverend O'Toole would tell us to walk after getting thrown into the paddy wagon that took us to County Cork. I mean, it flowed so smooth that if it got any smoother, a brand new fresh box of Always would have to be cracked open."

Yeah....no.

Or maybe...

"Well Jim, with the slightest amount of pressure, the contents get ejected faster than a Democrat saying they can't identify what a woman is. And because it's super dry, I can write the phrase "a menstruating person" without a single smudge in the process."

Hard pass...

Or...or...or...

"Well Jim, unlike liquid paper, which can run and be tacky, dry line will stay in place like a socialist money grubber being elected to Congress. And if you make a mistake, like supporting defund the police, you can easily fix that mistake and now say that you've support all of our Officer Friendlys."

{facepalm hard}

Or...how about an honest review from an honest person?

"Well Jim, Imma twenty-five year old spoiled brat who's working in an office due to my mom being the CEO. I do absolutely nothing regarding work, and I'm untouchable. I use dry liner to steal credit from my co-workers so that I can look good to my mommy. I just strategically place some strips, waddle over to the copier and push my big stomach out of the way so that I can reach the buttons, and PRESTO! I'm the manly neckbeard that no hot woman can resist!"

What...the...hail? (catchphrase courtesy of Stephen He)

Good Lord this review is so far off the rails that Pete Buttigieg just might actually pay attention to it....nah, he would rather make sure the construction industry is ethnically balanced before assigning grants to communities that need it.

This concludes yet another scintillating review of an every day product that is normally unreviewable.

{c} 2023 by G.B. Miller. All Rights Reserved

Episode #160: A Noun, A Verb, An Adjective And An Adverb Met In A Book Of Prose

My personal bookcase, featuring books that I was able to salvage from the basement flood of 2021. Sadly, the books show in the first two shelving units on the left and and the one on the right, is a wonderful 30 volume reprint of Civil War memoirs from the now defunct Time-Life Book division, of which one is missing in action.

Now, onto a smaller and pithier state of the written word.

After pounding out about 207k words (haven't transcribed the last chapter yet), I have finally finished volume 2 of my trilogy, with the place holder title of Hot Mess. I overshot my originally planned January completion date by roughly 3 weeks, but it was well worth the wait, in my humble opinion.

The main reason why I wanted to stop was twofold: one, I wanted to get back on track on republishing my novella entitled "A Taste Of Pain". I wasn't too thrilled about a few things, most notably the content (fleshed out a little while also changing the p.o.v.); the title as well as the cover. I did spend part of 2021 reworking, but put it aside when I started on my current project; and two, I have a few plot-lines {about 5(?)} that I need to properly conclude in the third volume, so that's gonna take some time for me to develop.

I have two things left to actually do with this current project before putting it aside: one, some editing/note taking. I have to do some initial pen editing and some detailed note taking because it will probably be the summer/fall before I can actually apply all of the edits made, and you know as well as I do, that referring to notes made jogs your memory easier than it does sitting in front of your computer with a vacant look and drooling like Homer Simpson; and two, I think it'll be easier for me to write that 3rd volume if I write a short {HA!} 49 chapter synopsis that I can refer to because, to be quite frank, referring to a 49 chapter synopsis will be a thousand times easier than trying to page through 2 full three ring binders and a half of a 3rd in order to find a particular point in the story.

The story: the original plot to the story was a basic trope-person gets kidnapped by a nefarious person and people who may or may not be related to the victim chases after the kidnapper to presumably rescuer the victim. But in order not to make it incredibly dull/monotonous, we added a few....things to the mix.

1} The victim was a man kidnapped by a woman who was sent on a mission by her Queen to retrieve said man. Possible reason, matrimony.

2} The people retrieving said man are his current and ex-wives, along with the current wive's ladies-in-waiting. Current wife may or may not be a member of royalty.

3} Plot twist the first through the third: the woman doing the retrieval is a member of planet community called "The Pod"; her foster son is part of the retrieval team as well as Cerberus, ye olden dog who guards the gates of a land very south of here.

4} Plot twist the fourth: a member of The Royal Entourage, who doesn't want to see their power diminished, tries to stop the retriever from completing her mission; sub-plot twist, he was intimately involved with the retriever from another lifetime.

5} Plot twist the fifth, so far: the two ladies-in-waiting made a side deal with the queen of The Pod to make sure that the man would be delivered in one piece, in exchange they would obtain power and prestige, by gently sabotaging the rescue mission.

So...yeah, I have these major plot-lines/plot twists that I need to continue fleshing out, plus I have to decide on how I want to story to ultimately end: on a high note, on a low note, or somewhere in between. Overall, the story is not for those who are one, easily offended or two, legitimately triggered. Yes, I do recognize legitimate triggers {personal trauma of some kind} as opposed to the faux triggers that far too many people claim that are harmful {ex. words, thoughts, ideas}, so ultimately when the final product is down, I'll probably put some kind of warning on the covers.

I do apologize for the wordiness of this post, but I did want to share the fact that these two volumes took me about 10 months, mid-May 2022 thru mid-Feb 2023, to complete, handwritten to computer. It weren't easy, but I think doing it this way is the wave of the future for me. No hardcore Internet to distract me, only the smartphone for research, which in turn allows me to properly concentrate as well as to more flesh out the story. Plus, with how bad my hands now are, I can print faster than I can type or voice to text type.

And remember, tax season is upon us, and for the first time ever, I envy how smoothly the Canadians and the British do their taxes.

{c} 2023 by G.B. Miller. All Rights Reserved

Episode #159: A Spoon, A Fork, And A Cup Meet At A Buffet

Like most people, I buy lots of stuff from Amazon as well as brick and mortar stores. And probably like some people, I'm often asked to write reviews for the stuff that I buy. While I can understand wanting to write reviews for books and music {and I often did prior to Amazon's change in the minimum amount spent required to leave a review}, leaving a review for an inanimate object {like that yellow frog you see} is quite the challenge.

I mean, I once left one for a c.d. shelving unit I'd purchased some years ago. Had to get creative with it 'cause how many ways can you say, "Easy to put up, holds everything nicely, good bang for the buck."?

Today's post will be my attempt at writing a review for a few inanimate objects, aimed at the typical  Walter Martin shopper. Because no one who has all of their brain cells are really going to read a review about plastique forks, spoons and corrugated paper cups. Least of all moi. 

"Ahem. Welp, I done picked up this here package of forms from my local Staples, 'cause you know recycling there really doesn't matter if it ain't the rinky dink cartridges ya'll jam into them things ya'll call printers. Now far be it for me to tell ya'll how to use a fork, 'cause I'm sure you know what I'm talking about heyuh.

"Anyhow, these forks are made of some seriously durable plastique pebbles heated up to an ungodly temperature before being shoved into a mold which them pops out a fork. Dadgummit, these things taste soooooo good that I often can get all of my daily chemical nutrients three times a day. I tell ya, ya'll better get some for yourself. And yeah, they're good for picking up hog jowls and chicken feets and showing them down your gullet purty as you please.

"Now them spoons, they ain't the hottest thing in the world. I mean, if I wanted to eat some cornpone or some jellied chitlins', I SUPPOSE they be good for that, but dang, them suckers just melt over an open flame in nothing flat, and all I'm left with is a disgusting mush of plastic smelling poppy flower oil, and man that combo does nothing for me beyond making my arm go an ugly green. I done give them a one star rating, 'cause using plastique is stupid. Stick with the metal ones instead.

"Finally, them good ol' paper coffee cups with lids. Welp, the lids are okay I guess, I mean you really can't go wrong with a lid, especially if ya staple it to the sides to keep it in place. I mean that sucker simply ain't gonna move no whar no how.

"But ya know, I done had to cut a hole in the lid, just so I could properly drink that muddy sludge from the river early in the morning. You know the river imma talking about? Right, the one near the chemical plant. The water there makes for some good quality coffee. And you know why Them cups are the only ones that done hold that natural goodness in. Sure 'nuff, if I's lying, I's dying. So man, these cups done get a five start ratin' from me."

I like to thank you for reading my 100% tongue planted quite firmly somewhere in someone's cheek {he says with a Bruce Willis smirk}. Could be mine, could be on a holiday, could be a not so candid snapshot. Or, or, or it could be that I have a vivid imagination and after writing over 200k words to a trilogy, my medical diagnosis, as per Frank Burns, I'm slug nutty.

Have a great week.

{c} 2023 by G.B. Miller. All Rights Reserved

Episode #158: Am I A Karen Or A Kevin?

Have you ever experienced the problem of being so passionate about a topic that you sometimes turn into a raving Karen/Kevin that straddles that fine line of lunacy? Sadly, this has been my misfortune  with a particular topic that triggers me.

The topic in question is rock music, with specific concentration of dinosaur bands, i.e. those who have been around for 20+ years and are still performing.

Anyways, prior to writing this blog post that you're currently reading, I wrote two nearly completed blog posts that I ultimately nuked because I was ultimately coming of like a bonafide  Karen/Kevin while writing it. Yes, two blog posts that started with a promising premise, premise (old age in rock music) that quickly devolved into a Karen-esque style rant about the state of rock music.

Coupled with the fact that I would've had to become what I loathe in a blog post (excessive wording that would spider out but never gt back under control) in order to recover the plot line, I decided to nuke those blog posts. Twice.

So here we are, back to the drawing board, trying to decide on what I should write for a blog post. I mean, I COULD give everyone a writing update and say, "Oh, by the time I finish transcribing the second to last chapter of part 2 of my trilogy, I'll have over 195k words written and miiiiiiiight possibly hit 200k when all is said and done."

Then I could say, "I need to write a short plot line summary for all 47 chapters, so that when I come back to it in the late spring of 2023, I can instantly know what's going on."

And I can say that obnoxiously to everyone, because I'm a male Karen and you need to listen to me, or I'll call for a manager. M-A-N-A-G-E-R (and not spelled 'maniger', like some potentially new hire on their job app).

However, let me leave you with a fine example of Kareness that I'd witnessed locally on SlapMyFaceWtihALargeBook the other day.

We have a local bow-wow/moo-moo place called Doogie's (you can find them on the aforementioned socialized media platform). Makes great food and was featured on Man v Food for their hot dog challenge (2 two foot dogs loaded, two large fries, two large sodas and a 20 minute time limit). This past weekend, we got spanked with temps between the age of my young grandson and my shoe size, so as a good, well respected employer who cares about their employees, announced that they were closing early for the day.

Cue the male Karen who complained about the restaurant being closed early. Long story cut very short, he was run up that mighty flagpole with only his own petard, or wedgie, keeping him in place.

In a nutshell, the restaurant originally was a seasonal business, thus no real insulation in the kitchen to speak of. Also, quite a few employees had to perform foot patrol to the buses due to lack of a motorized four wheeler.

So even though that commenter eventually gave a passive-aggressive apology, he continued to be roasted on a spit. Sad to say, I've seen this kind of idiocy played out on this same page this past summer (ya know, if you got temps 95+ chances are that your kitchen is your oven). Suffice to say, there are people in this world who do appreciate a sensible employer.

In conclusion, don't be a Karen, a Kevin or a Chad. Because no-one is going to put up with your man-child/woman-child antics, unless you're on a college campus. 

{c} 2023 by G.B. Miller. All Rights Reserved