“Hell No.”

Mr. Derick Kirk, an unclaimed soul, nestled himself upon a bar stool and gave a wave to the bartender.

The succubus came up behind Derick and took the stool to his right. She glistened and sparkled and gave him a big smile that showed off her wolf like incisors.

Derick cursed the mortal realm for the creation of the Twilight Universe. Ever since then, as young mortal’s starting making their way down into hell, the succubus started emulating what it was they thought was the ‘in thing’.

The succubus said to the bartender, “That drink is on me.”

As awkward and as fitting as it was to say Derick blurted out, “Hell no, go find some other fool you can buy off with a mere drink.”

She mockingly laughed, “You think I was only going to offer you a mere drink? Don’t take me for a fool.”

Waving at the bartender, “Never mind the order, I’m through.” And with that Derick got off his bar stool and exited out the tavern’s door aptly named ‘The Bottomless Pit’.

================================================

I am “litterally” writing this the day after.

Okay, I admit it. I can see the repeated words and or poor word choice selections when looking at this the day after. So do I go up above and edit it? No, not really. It was a first draft (+ LibreOffice spellchecker) and in keeping with my sites motto “where life happens in the first draft” the answer would be no. I have nothing wrong with cleaning stuff up, but this site is meant to be a bit raw, so “suck it” grammEr nazi’s.

🙂

The following is part of my second draft from my Doug story.

I’m still cleaning the thing up and the following part is from Chapter 6.

It’s still a bit “grammarly” rough, but I liked the feel of this and wanted to share it.

——————————————————-

As they started to pull in they had to pause as the only other car there, a limo, was starting to pull out. Doug found himself gawking at the size and beauty of the vehicle. He wondered if the guy he sold the guns to was inside. He started to get up but ended up stumbling back over onto the pile of gear as Andy was in the middle of moving the truck.

Pedro reached out and caught Doug’s arm, “Easy my friend.”

Doug half slurred, “I think I know whose in there.”

“You might be right but getting yourself hurt to find out isn’t smart.”

The limo passed them by and Andy finished pulling up to the pump.

Doug watched the limo enter the highway and start to accelerate away. He wondered if his life was doing much the same.

Dawn reached over and touched Doug on the shoulder, “I know that look.”

Doing his best to shake his emotions off his sleeves Doug shook his head and gave Dawn a big grin, “What you talking about.” He then started to half climb and half fall out of the trucks bed.

Reggie jumped down and landed while holding onto the side of the truck. If he hadn’t of being doing that he would have surely tumbled over due to his own level of intoxication. “Man, I gotta piss.”

Dawn elected to climb out instead of jump out.

Doug, wanting to put some more space between him and Dawn, pointed at both Reggie and Dawn. “They why don’t you girls go together.”

Dawn’s eyes narrowed, “That’s not cool, besides I don’t have to go.”

Doug asked, “Really? How can you broads go for so long without needing to take a piss?”

It was Pedro that answered as he descended down from the trucks back, “Training.”

Doug swiveled his head to look at Pedro and wished he hadn’t as his vision and brain sloshed within his skull as a result.

Pedro, seeing Doug’s bewildered look, elaborated, “Females go through more undressing in order to relieve themselves. It is this disinterest or laziness that turns itself into a training regiment of resilience.”

Reggie and Doug looked at each other and then to Dawn. Reggie then burst out laughing “Did he just call women lazy pissers?”

Doug added, “That’s why you all gotta sit down to pee, cause you’re lazy.”

Pedro said in a slightly elevated tone, “That is not what I was implying. It is their ability to withstand that makes them last longer.”

Dawn pointed at both Reggie and Doug, “You hear that you two pump chumps. We can go the distance compared to you premature types.”

Doug and Reggie, being unsettled by the not entirely false premature accusation, calmed down and coughed in near unison.

Dawn looked to Pedro, “I know that sounds true and all but how did you know that?”

Pedro gave a smile, “Given enough time and practice, proficiency in just about anything is obtainable.”

Dawn looked over at Doug, “Did you know he was this smart?”

Doug got out the word “-ass.”

Dawn’s eyes crossed if only for a second.

Doug repeated the entire phrase, “Smart-ass is more like it.”

Dawn rolled her eyes.

2015.08.21 Tony E. Milf – Pissing Off

I roll over in bed and gently lift my head. The clock reads 7:37. I can feel the foot of our five-year-old jabbing into my crotch. I perform an inverse thrust to back myself out of his lodging and wiggle myself out of bed. My mind groans thinking the little guy wet his bed again and came into ours at some point of the night. I can’t but help feel excited about doing running his bed sheets yet again.

Stumbling, due to still being a bit stiff, in more ways than one, I head over to the can. I sit my ass down on the seat and begin to lean forward, so I can get myself aimed into the bowl, and let it flow. A minute later I start to stand and head over to the sink having purposely not flushed the toilet. out of fear of waking the bastard and the sleeping boy. I find myself hoping once more that he hadn’t pissed his bed. Finishing up at the sink I stumble less towards the stairs and head down. Near the bottom of the stairs sits my desk with my computer on it. I consider trying to get myself into the mind space of writing something. The fear of having our son wake up and ruin it due to his insistence with getting attention I decide against it. Instead, I load up a game and start clicking away.

Nearly at the end of digital victory I hear movement upstairs and recognize the stumbling of my wife towards the toilet. I remember that I hadn’t flushed and anticipate the outcry that is going to come. Sure enough, it does. “What the hell?”

I call up from below, “That was me.”

She calls out from the toilet, “Why do you do that?”

“I wasn’t trying to wake any sleeping people like we are doing now by shouting across the house.”

“Just flush the damn thing. I don’t want to wake up and that be literally the first thing I see.”

My mind, being logical, tries to envision her not opening her eyes as she makes her way towards the bathroom and only opening them upon in need of sitting down correctly. I know this isn’t true, but her vocabulary use is ‘literally’ driving me crazy.

The conversation ends and I can hear her finishing up her business, with a flush, and then heading to the sink. Seconds later I hear her saying “morning” which I can only assume is to our son.

I love my wife. I love my son. I love my alone time. These can not coexist.

My wife groans and I know my daddy duties are impending. I try to hasten the extermination of my pixel adversaries.

Then I hear the voice of destiny calling from upstairs. “He peed the bed.”

My mind remembers where our son is sleeping, “Our bed?”

My wife cries out in what I interpret as a snarky tone, “Can you ‘actually’ come up here and help me with this?”

No longer caring about my impending victory against the pixels I close the game down and push my chair back. I start to make my way up the stairs and realize, a second too late, that I have already lost as my mouth has opened up to ask, “Can you say that is in a less snarky tone?”

I don’t even get a full step up before I get drenched. “Why are you starting in with me?”

Still being clueless, I ask, “What?”

“I am asking for you to help and you start acting all bitchy with me.”

Half-way up the stairs I am fumbling for words, “You just said ‘can you” actually” help me’?”

“I did not. Stop putting words in my mouth.”

Our daughter, almost nine, uses the word ‘actually’ quite a bit. I have even nicknamed her ‘Princess Actually’ as she will start off conversations with the interjection. I will ask her “Can you take out the garbage?”

To which she will reply, “Actually I was about to do this instead.”

Kids, being the sponges they are, have to have learned it from somewhere.

Logic aside I press on, “You used that word just now.” I repeated her phrase verbatim and she looked at me like I was the devil. “Don’t be saying I said that. I didn’t say that.”

I take a certain amount of pride, probably too much, in the fact that I try not to lie whenever possible. “I’m not lying, I heard you say it.”

The fight escalates and soon enough she has collapsed down onto her knees and is crying. Both kids are now awake and making their way into our room where they are now hugging and leaning against my wife in acts of consolation.

I, being the devil tongue bastard that I am, am left standing there like the villain. I am starting to feel a bit pissed off.

– End –

Oh the damage he could do to the delusions

Just saying

So I’m just going to ramble here as my thoughts are a bit raw to put into any kind of clear narrative.

I was in some distant place (New York) and was trying to get onto the episode of some show (the daily show?) but that show had ended as I had already visited it with my family and had taken all sorts of video’s and pictures of the set and with my kids sitting in Jon’s chair.

So I’m waiting outside trying to get in as the staff doesn’t believe me that Jon promised I would be one of his guests. I’m typically anything but a narcissistic person but with dreams anything goes. Any-who the staff keeps me out and as much as I try to convince them nothing seems to work. I call up John Hodgeman (Apple’s “I’m a PC” guy) phone and try to have him vouch for me cause after all who doesn’t have John Hodgeman’s phone number in their dreams.

The bastard doesn’t remember me. FU dream version of John Hodgeman 😛

So I’m stuck outside with my kids again trying to get onto the set for my interview and I start to get angry, really angry. The words escaped me and no matter what I said I could not convince the staff of my genuineness. I was reaching such levels of frustration that I literally woke myself up.

Gawd I was pissed.

It took me just a few seconds to recalibrate the fact that I had awoken and it was all a dream but closer to an hour to finally fall back asleep.

And then the cat woke me up as it started barfing between my legs on the comforter.

Fun times.

Hugs and kisses 🙂

So I just got done rewriting chapter 2 of my “Doug” story and it went from 1500 words to 2,800. Overall the story, complete first draft, was at 20,000 words. We will see just how much this thing expands in comparison to my Mr. K story which went from 70k to 90k.

I just finished a new Tony E. Milf story but have yet to do any cleanup on it. Once done I will post it here. 🙂

Apathy, it’s what’s for…ah just forget it

So I partake in a writing group with several “starter” authors and one vet who sponsors the group. One of the starters mentioned that they had been contacted by an editor/hunter who stumbled upon their site and wanted to pursue possibly signing them.

Being curious (meow) I pulled up their site and saw that it has existed for only the past two months. This got me curious as to the legitimacy of such an inquiry. I hope this person the best but really? My scam-dar is going off but at the same time I don’t know enough of the facts to publically denounce something like this when I myself have so little experience.

Best of luck peer person 🙂

In light of recent political events that have taken place I would like to make the following proposition. No longer are we to use the euphemism of “Aunt Flow” to describe a woman’s natural biological process but instead use the phrase “Trumping.” Think about it. You could also swap out “she is tripping” with “she is Trumping.” I mean it’s a win-win. He enjoys the attention of being on the bleeding edge of our news media so why not? Also I believe that there is nothing more beautiful than the human body, why not should we not embellish in its exquisite and spectacularness.

If you agree with this idea then please help me and “Trump” this along.

So I had this idea and realized it would fit ideally into another short story of mine. So I started to expand upon it and wrote and outline that should bring it out to about the 30,000-word mark. I then paused as I am not sure about where to take it from there. The original short story was 1,100 words and I completed that back in April of 2015. It takes place in the “Libertarian Wank Fiction(LWF)”-verse. If you are asking “WTF is LWF?” you would be deemed quasi-sane.

One does not seek Wankersville, Wankersville finds you. 😉

So my plotting in all is only about 3,000 words but it does progress the story all the way through act one. Since it is now on the cusp of act 2 I think I need to let it ferment some more in the back of my mind.

I also contacted the grand Poobah of LWF and asked if he minded me wanking a bit in his verse and he responded with “I consider LWF to be basically open-source.” Yea me 🙂

Soo… I need to keep my mind from going completely wanky…

Oh hey. I got this 20,000-word first draft of “Doug” that needs some cleaning up. Let me focus on that. 🙂