Letter to an F'er, aka Happy Friday!

-originally posted on a Friday in 2010. Sorry about the photo.

Dearest Friday,

 

What took you so long? Come closer. Even closer. That's better. Listen, I need you, I want you, and I can't live without you. Do tell me, though, what's it like being so popular – given you have absolutely no value? What’s all the fuss about? You tease all week long, until you're nearly gone. At that point, we’re too pooped to party. Don’t pretend you don’t know this. I hereby strip you of your "T.G.I." “S” is much more deserving of those letters. You can keep the “F.” It's not pretty. Run along now, in shame, you little F’er. See you next week, honey. Speed it up then too. I do love you, sweetheart. I really do. Thanks for getting here. Come back soon. Now scram! Would ya? Make room for Saturday!

It's Friday, and this is good because it's almost Saturday. Have a great weekend. 

 

Sorry again for the above photo. xo

The Latest in Chocolate & Impersonating The Burger King

Imagine a peanut butter & jelly chocolate sandwich. This one is the most heavenly PB&J I've ever had. With just the right amounts of peanut butter and jelly, combined with nature's sweetest miracle (cocoa), it's full of "Mmmmm this is soooo good". My only complaints are that it's too small and, well, not all that healthy.  Still, it far exceeds the delight of consuming a regular PB&J sandwich.

I give Trader Joe's PB&J Milk Chocolate Bar an 8.

Note: Trader Joe's is not compensating me in any way for advertising their products. In fact, I have yet to win their raffle, which I've been entering for 2 years. Yet I'm loyal, give them free advertising, smile at the checkers, bring in my own bags...What more could they want? TJs, choose my name already!
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On another fun note, I'm performing today at Powdered Toast Man's blog.  I did my best to impersonate The Burger King, competing against Jared of Subway fame, in Powdered Toast Man's hilarious battle of the cereal mascots. Do not go here for enlightenment.

Cheers, and happy Monday.
Don't forget to laugh and eat chocolate, in the reverse order.

Signs and a Patriotic Horse: Sundays in My City

UnknownMami is hostess extraordinaire of the blogosphere's only Sundays in My City.  Click here to visit a scenic mix of bloggers' hometowns.

Thanks for making the trip to Chico, CA, where you will find...

                                               signs that spring is just around the corner, and

...a "FOR LEASE" sign on this grassy dirt patch with a smashed Red Bull container. [Everyone's trying to make an extra buck somehow.] No reason to fear, though, because...

           our beloved town mascot, DuPont, is still dressed for President's Day.

Have an excellent Sunday and new week!

CassaStorm Cover Reveal!

A storm gathers across the galaxy…

Byron thought he’d put the days of battle behind him. Commanding the Cassan base on Tgren, his only struggles are occasional rogue pirate raids and endless government bureaucracies. As a galaxy-wide war encroaches upon the desert planet, Byron’s ideal life is threatened and he’s caught between the Tgrens and the Cassans.

After enemy ships attack the desert planet, Byron discovers another battle within his own family. The declaration of war between all ten races triggers nightmares in his son, shaking Bassan to the core and threatening to destroy the boy’s mind.

Meanwhile the ancient alien ship is transmitting a code that might signal the end of all life in the galaxy. And the mysterious probe that almost destroyed Tgren twenty years ago could be on its way back. As his world begins to crumble, Byron suspects a connection. The storm is about to break, and Byron is caught in the middle…

Release date: September 17, 2013

Science Fiction - Space Opera/Adventure

Print ISBN 9781939844002

E-book ISBN 9781939844019

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I'm proud to help promote my friend Alex's book. I was a virgin to science fiction until I opened CassaStar, the first in this trilogy. As I expected, it's exceptionally well-written. But I didn't anticipate really liking, much less loving, the story. I did, and I devoured Cassa Fire next. Now I can't wait for the storm. Congratulations, Alex! The cover's fantastic!

HAPPY FRIDAY, ALL.

I HOPE YOUR WEEKEND IS OUT-OF-THIS-WORLD (but not stormy). 

The Boy Next Door: A Dead Possum and Possible Necrophilia

     Over one year and 1,452 trees into drafting my novel, Woman on the Verge of Paradise, I'll be sharing excerpts with you. I estimate publication within 16.5 years from now. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy some samples. 
     This scene takes you to Parkside Manor, where I lived when I moved from LA to Oakland in 1992. I soon met the quintessential boy next door, and he lived next door. What could possibly go wrong?
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“How do you get your dishes so clean? They’re so shiny.” My inquiry followed a tasty meal of scallops and pasta, garlic bread, and red wine. Noah placed our kitchenware in the sink, and teased that a dishsoap-plus-water formula helps.

I stood nearby, gawking. “I mean they’re just so perfectly clean. I can never get mine to look like that.” 

Noah wiped his hands on a washrag. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you seeing anyone?”

“No.”

“Then…can I kiss you?”

An excited nervousness pushed a “yes” through my mouth.

 Noah walked over to me, tenderly cupped my chin in his hands, and began dabbing my mouth with his tongue as if attempting to budge a dead possum.  He merged us over to the futon couch and continued.

“You don’t have to do anything. Don’t even open your mouth,” Noah instructed.

Keep my mouth closed and do nothing? Like a corpse?

He re-dabbed. I gently inched back, wondering about Noah’s leanings towards necrophilia. Still, we liked each other. He was respectful enough to ask if he could kiss me, and he made dinner. Best yet, I kept thinking, he lives next door. Despite the weird tongue interference, I’d transitioned my life into a romantic tale.

 “Sorry,” Noah said.  “Are you okay with this?”

“Yeah, I just need to take it slow that’s all.”

Reasons for Celibacy #216 - 223: The Selectivity of a Momma Monkey

Hi, friends. Lifted directly from men’s on-line personal ads, and embellished by my italicized snark, I now present reasons 216 through 223 for [not just me but] any straight, single woman to choose celibacy (and a stash of re-chargeable batteries).  The ads always tend to amuse as much as they perplex. Enjoy.

REASON #216: I'll know you're it when I fund you!! Fund me, babe, and I’ll know you’re it!!

REASON #217: looking someone just to spin time Spin time? Sorry, hon. I’ll do low-impact aerobics or 12 minutes of zumba, max, but I draw the line at spin time.

REASON #218: Life is for the Living So what’s your stance on zombie rights?

REASON #219: Seeking intellegent person.  Keep seeking, sir. Perhaps she’ll show you how to use spell check.

REASON #220: I know. i should have used spell chick Spell chick? Vanna White? I’m sure you wouldn’t be the first to use her.…one more thing on texting,the word suggestion thing is just plan rediculous,it replaces dating with eating,so it i ever text you and I say "I wouldn'r mind eating you" don't take it personal. Oh crap! All the times I obliged a man who wanted to “eat” me, and he didn’t mean it. Oops!

REASON #221 is just painful: no an I have too choldern Lookining to meet som sone fun atractive goutgoing an ounist thets also understanding that nobodys pefeckt

REASON #222: Someone between Lady GaGa Mother Tersa 

Between an outlandish man-woman performer and a saintly sister missing an “e” who’s been dead for 16 years? Well, at least you’re not as picky as the next guy:

REASON #223: I’m pickier than a momma monkey so good luck ladies!

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Have a good Monday and new week, everyone. 

To my friends in the US, Happy President's Day.

~~Today and Tomorrow: Writers4Writers features Melissa Bradley and Gwen Gardner! 

A Record Breaking Tie at Life by Chocolate!

Ladies and gentlemen, for the first time in  Life by Chocolate's history, we have a three-way tie! 

When put to the test, 14 creative minds offered 13 contributions (A Beer for the Shower = 2 men, one blog, one entry and one vote) to our Anti-Valentine's Day contest. You cast your votes. I've been calculating and re-calculating and then calculating again. It comes down to this: a run-off election is in order, but let's not belabor things. V. Day is almost over. So, having received your votes from the comments section, along with secret ballots (to my email), I can happily and officially declare a 3-way tie! And here are the winners of chocolate and my book, Just the Right Time:
   
1A and 1B, Brandon and Bryan at A Beer For the Shower for:

Dear Cupid, will you please remove this protruding arrow from my chest? I know you're just trying to help, but now the woman I'm wooing doesn't want to kiss me, she seems to think I need urgent medical attention.

  

2. Powdered Toast Man for: 
Dear Cupid, will you shoot Justin Bieber with an arrow so that it either kills him or makes him fall in love with a horny porcupine.

 

and last but never least, Yvonne, for: 

Dear Cupid, Enough already. I get it. I'm un-cupid-able. Now go away. Die a thousand deaths. But please leave some chocolate for me. Help a sista out.
Love,  -me.

Psst, girlfriend, you broke the rules (You were supposed to start with "Dear Cupid, Will you..."), but your entry oozed delicious venom, so we'll keep that secret between us. Plus, we need a female to represent single gals everywhere, and you're awesome like that.

 

graphics stolen from google images

Every entry was creative and fun. Votes were all over the place to prove it.
Kudos to BabySis, Anthony, and Adam who took a close three-way second place! To read their contributions and all the others, please visit my last post.

Thank you all for hating V-Day along with me. I love you for it. [I love you too, Anne.]

Winners, please report to the judge's booth (i.e., send me an email, Rawknrobyn@aol.com) with an address or POB - preferably yours. Thanks.

VOTE HERE! VOTE NOW! Change the world, or just pick your favorite anti-Valentine's message.

graphics stolen from Google images


I challenged you to complete this statement in no more than 50 words: "Dear Cupid, Will you..."  Fourteen brave and creative souls participated. Only one will win the grand prize, chocolate and a copy of my book, Just the Right Time. It's up to YOU, dear readers, to decide who wins. I'll accept ballots through midnight WST, Feb. 13th. Secret ballots may be sent to my email. Otherwise, vote in the comments section. Candidates are allowed, and expected, to vote for themselves. But only once. All duplicate ballots, hanging chads and illegible entries will be sent to Florida. They like that stuff.  Chocolate bribes accepted by the Elections Committee any time of the year.


In random order, here are your candidates:
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1. Pat Tillett said...Dear Stupid, will you...Oops! I'm sorry, I meant "Cupid." Every year I hope to fall into a coma the day before Halloween and not wake up until the day after your day. Oh yeah, I HATE roses sealed into acrylic more than anything. Stupid dust catchers...

2. A Beer For The Shower said...Dear Cupid, will you please remove this protruding arrow from my chest? I know you're just trying to help, but now the woman I'm wooing doesn't want to kiss me, she seems to think I need urgent medical attention.

    
3, YeamieWaffles said...Dear Cupid, Will You pull out some cupid magic to stop anybody from asking me what I'm doing this Valentine's Day? From a guy who's beginning to sound a little jaded when he jokes "I'm going on a date with my television" time and time again.

4. Empty Nest Insider said...Dear Cupid, Will you keep your arrow in your quiver? Last year's love match made me shake and shiver.
Instead of fair-trade dark chocolates,
You sent me week old chopped liver.   

5. Baby Sister said...Dear Cupid, Will you please pierce Snooki and Justin with the same arrow? That way they'll find love and then die immediately after. That would be divine. Thank you.

6. Pat Hatt said...Dear Cupid, will you take your arrow as you float around like a sparrow and pull down your diaper putting it on your head, then to make sure valentine's day is good and dead. Latch onto that arrow with such class that you shove it up your ass.     








7. Anthony J. Langford said...Yo Cupid, Will you get it right? I live Down Under so you mixed upside the head. You delivered the wrong one to me, so now I sleep beneath the bed.

  8. Powdered Toast Man said...Dear Cupid, will you shoot Justin Bieber with an arrow so that it either kills him or makes him fall in love with a horny porcupine.

 9. Stephen Hayes said...Dear Cupid, would you please put on some clothes, maybe some nice red Underoos. You're suppose to be the god of love but seeing your little pink body is a real distraction and a major turn off.

   
10. Adam said...Dear Cupid, will you please explain how I got called ugly that one time I took a guest tour at that blind school? Seriously that was cold.
*real events may not have happened*

   11. Chuck said...Dear Cupid: "Will you PLEASE give Robyn her dream date!!! For the love of chocolate, help her find the string cheese."
And to somewhat quote Tom Skerrit in Top Gun, "if you get to V-Day and need a date, give me a call, I'll be your Valentine ;)

  12. Yvonne said...Dear Cupid, Enough already. I get it. I'm un-cupid-able. Now go away. Die a thousand deaths. But please leave some chocolate for me. Help a sista out.
Love,  -me.

   13. Anne said...Dear Cupid. On a Midsummer's Eve, whilst dancing under blazing trees, a man so fair of form you struck for me. And I for him did fall so true, in love it seemed. For passions spent in a glen that night did bring forth great delight. But gone, with suns rise.

****BALLOT ENDS HERE.**Thank you for exercising your right to vote. Have a nice day.

Anti-Valentine's Day Celebratory Giveaway!

Join Life by Chocolate's Anti-Valentine's Day Celebration and Giveaway!

It all started in 1st grade. With his blue-green eyes, dirty-blond hair and adorable dimples, Danny was going to marry me. We'd live in a big yellow house with a brown and white striped cat, an apple tree on the front lawn, and an apricot tree in the back. But when Valentine's Day came, he gave Kristy -that sleazy bitch!- a Valentine with a big red heart that said, "Will you be mine?" What did I get? A f*ck'n lousy card with a freckle-faced boyish-looking girl in raggedy jeans holding a baseball bat. The stupid message: "Hey sport, Happy Valentine's Day!" Thanks, Danny. Thanks a lot! And Valentine's Days have gone downhill ever since...So let's celebrate. 

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Complete this message in no more than 50 words conveying anti-Valentine's Day sentiment (not including these 4 words): "Dear Cupid, Will you..." 

Be inspired, and not intimidated, by the fun entries below. The winner will get some fair-trade chocolate and an autographed copy of my book, Just the Right Time. YOU, dear readers, will place your votes when all the contributions are in. So, spread the word, eat chocolate, and be a hater. Because I love you.

Pat Hatt said...Dear Cupid, will you take your arrow as you float around like a sparrow and pull down your diaper putting it on your head, then to make sure valentine's day is good and dead. Latch onto that arrow with such class that you shove it up your ass.

Stephen Hayes said..Dear Cupid, would you please put on some clothes, maybe some nice red Underoos. You're suppose to be the god of love but seeing your little pink body is a real distraction and a major turn off.

 Adam said..Dear Cupid, will you please explain how I got called ugly that one time I took a guest tour at that blind school? Seriously that was cold.

*real events may not have happened*

Yvonne said...Dear Cupid,

Enough already. I get it. I'm un-cupid-able. Now go away. Die a thousand deaths. But please leave some chocolate for me. Help a sista out.
Love,
-me.

Anne said...Dear Cupid. On a Midsummer's Eve, whilst dancing under blazing trees, a man so fair of form you struck for me. And I for him did fall so true, in love it seemed. For passions spent in a glen that night did bring forth great delight. But gone, with suns rise.  {Sorry, Anne. I'd add the "Will you" but that puts this over 50 words. I didn't even notice, though. I hate to admit I'm honing in on 50 myself.}

 

Chuck said..Dear Cupid: "Will you PLEASE give Robyn her dream date!!! For the love of chocolate, help her find the string cheese."And to somewhat quote Tom Skerrit in Top Gun, "if you get to V-Day and need a date, give me a call, I'll be your Valentine ;)

Powdered Toast Man said...

Dear Cupid, will you shoot Justin Bieber with an arrow so that it either kills him or makes him fall in love with a horny porcupine.

 

 A Beer For The Shower said...Dear Cupid, will you please remove this protruding arrow from my chest? I know you're just trying to help, but now the woman I'm wooing doesn't want to kiss me, she seems to think I need urgent medical attention.

Anti-V. Day Venom, Contest & GIVEAWAY!

We can't ignore it any longer. Chocolate prices started skyrocketing on New Year's Day, and stores are full of mini "I Can't Get Enuf of U" nighties sported by stuffed animals so hideous looking it's difficult to decipher if they're unicorns or armadillos. Clearly I have issues. I also hate February 14th. So I've decided to channel my V-Day venom into a noble cause: a GIVEAWAY. The winner will receive some chocolate plus an autographed copy of my book, Just the Right Time. [If the winner is one of the wonderful few who already purchased the book, they'll get another fun little book instead. Plus chocolate.]

All you need to do is complete this statement, "Dear Cupid, Will you..." in no more than 50 words --not counting the 4 words in the prompt. Leave your responses in the comments section, or leave a comment to indicate that you're posting your entry on your blog. (I don't have the program or skills to do one of those linky things. Sorry.)  Create a poem, prose, haiku, limerick, utter nonsense, or whatever. 

YOU, dear readers, will vote on the best Anti-Valentine's Day entry.

I'll compile your contributions into one lovely post and announce the winner on CHOCOLATE DAY (2/14).

Have at it, have fun, and enjoy fair-trade chocolate (please, anything but Hershey's -- the most corrupt and evil chocolate corporation in the world) every day of the year! 

Interview with Honey Boo Boo: IWSG

Welcome to this year's second meeting of the IWSG (Insecure Writer’s Support Group). Alex J. Cavanaugh  founded this group to provide us with a safe venue for expressing our vulnerabilities and offering each other support. We're posting on the first Wednesday of every month. Please check out Alex’s blog to visit others’ posts. It’s a great group.  Join us, if you haven't already! All that's required is an insecurity or two hundred.

 

Robyn: Thank you, audience, for navigating all the construction that’s been going on in preparation for today’s show. We had to widen the studio for our special guests. As you know, we bring only the biggest of celebrities to Life by Chocolate, so today we welcome Honey Boo Boo and her mommy, June Thompson.

The audience shouts obscenities. Honey Boo Boo rushes in. June stomps behind her, and Lionel Richie’s “Three Times a Lady” blasts the studio. Robyn motions for the stage director to bring a second, and then a third, sofa onto the stage. Honey Boo Boo spins around like an Energizer Bunny on crank. June (the mom) watches her, laughing hysterically.

Robyn tells June: Thank you for being here. June pulls a beer bottle out of her back pocket, uncaps it with her mouth, and takes a swig. Robyn motions towards the sofas. Oh, wait a moment. She sprays the sofas with lavender scented Febreze. They take their seats, Robyn on one sofa, June on the other two. So, I invited you here for a couple of reasons. One, I don’t get it. I mean, she – pointing at 7 year old Honey Boo Boo who runs up and down the aisles making arm-pit fart noises and laughing hysterically -- Do you ever discipline her?

June/Honey Boo Boo's Mom: Do I ever what?

Robyn: Yeah, that's what I thought. I don’t know why your kid's a hit. My nephew’s a million times cuter, smarter and sweeter. Actually, she’s not cute, smart or sweet at all. She’s an out-of-control, repulsive chubby little snot! And you, no offense – I deal with food issues and am addicted to chocolate and sugar myself – but you’ve got like twelve chins, lady.  Yet you’re proud of your family’s diet!? And you tell that kid to stop eating chicken nuggets. Um, perhaps you should stop buying them, fat a**!

Honey Boo Boo runs up to June. Mommy, can I have some of your beer?

June/Honey Boo Boo's Mom: No…more than three sips, sweetie. Okay? You’ll ruin your appetite for dinner. We're havin' deep fried pork rinds and butter-flavored lard.

Honey Boo Boo gulps down the rest of the beer, drops the can onto the floor, smashes it with her foot, and belches. She laughs and starts singing: I love my poo-ooo-poo. I love my poo-oo-poo. Bwa-haha Hee hee Haha!

June laughs proudly. That's our family theme song. She made it up herself.

Robyn rolls her eyes. Hm mm. I'm going to shift gears a bit. Today, the IWSG meets. I don’t handle critical feedback well. I’m too insecure. But I need thick skin to put my writing out there. And you both have a lot of thickness. How do you handle it when people tell you, for example, that you're disgusting?

June: We're what? Oh, we're discussing. We like to talk? Yeah, we do like to shoot the sh*t!

Robyn: So ignorance really is bliss.

June: I don't know about that, but everyone likes us. It makes me happy. She starts picking her nose.

Honey Boo Boo runs back up to June. Mommy, I'm about to poop my pants! Hee heehee hee.

June to Robyn: Where's the can? Robyn points to the back of the stage. Honey Boo Boo hops towards the restroom like a drunken hyena, followed by her mother, caught on camera picking her butt.

The cameraman zooms in on Robyn. I'm really sorry, ladies and gentlemen. It was a bad attempt to boost my ratings after last month's Justin Bieber fiasco. But we did learn that you can ignore harsh feedback. Pretend it doesn't exist, and pay attention to all of your fans, even if you're a repulsive parent raising an animalistic child that you're trying to pass off as a beauty pageant winner because you and your twelve chins were never able to enter a pageant. But you aren't. You're much, much better than that! And we know there will always be harsh critics out there. Take criticism as a compliment, even. A strong reaction is much better than none at all.

Thanks for being patient enough to sit through all this. Be glad. Be proud. You aren't in that family.

Superbowl Sunday in My City

Welcome back to Sundays in My City! For a scenic worldwide tour, visit hostess extraordinaire Unknown Mami's blog here.

Welcome to Chico, CA. It's a beautiful Sunday, 

 

but nobody's out enjoying nature (except me).

Everyone else is inside, gearing up to watch their favorite team

bring it home.

Happy Superbowl Sunday, February, and new week.  Go, 49ers!