December 4 2018

Rejection and Deflection

Rejection is painful.

It comes in many forms. Being let go from a job. A friend ghosting you. It can even haunt your dreams.

So I woke up this morning at around 4:30 am, a full hour before my alarm was set to go off. I was “pissed”. I looked over at my sleeping wife and wanted to punch her in the nuts. Yes, she lacks that particular part of human anatomy, but you get the idea. She had just “dumped me” in my dream.

Upon being more coherent of just how early and dark everything was, the rational side of my (*squirrel!) started interjecting on my emotional self. I rolled over onto my back thinking I could focus on what had just happened when the urge to relieve my bladder making itself known.

I stumble up out of bed, wood and all, and make my way into the bathroom. I know women probably have it worse when it comes to biological issues but trying to pee into a toilet while at attention really sucks. I manage to sit my ass down and lean forward so that I’m almost touching the ground with my face so that my soldier is able to deflect its flow downward and into the bowl. It’s not comfortable by any means and borders on being painful. Compared to bleeding out of your crotch for a week every month, its a small price to pay.

Finished, I head back into bed. No sooner than I slide back in and onto my back again does, not one, but two cats pounce on me hoping to get some attention. I start petting them and doing some more reflecting on my dream as the two knuckleheads begin trying to abscond with the hand that is petting the other thinking they can each get double the attention.


As I start recalling more of my dream, I begin placing the various parts of it back together and as to why it stung so much. Back in high school, I dated a girl for two years, I will call her Lenna. The house that my wife and I shared in my dream was reminiscent of Lenna’s parent’s house. Even today, as I’m 30 years past that event, I still have an emotional connection to that house. What was even wilder, was that my wife and I were on a trampoline in the backyard. One that, upon further reflection, was similar to the one Lenna chose to break up with me upon at a mutual friend’s house.

So who’s the idiot now? Apparently me. Yeah, I know you can’t control your dreams but the emotions I felt were so vivid and raw. I tried pondering why my subconscious mind would screw me over with a dream like that and the only thing I could come up with was that I might be (hormonally?) unbalanced right now.

Hey ladies, you can keep that bleeding emotional unbalanced stuff, I really don’t mind leaning forward to deflect my pee.

November 28 2018

Today’s Story – The Price of Iron

Yes, it’s (The Iron Price) a rip of “the phrase” from GoT. I needed an idea to start the story and this what I used as my starting point. There shouldn’t be any further connection beyond the tagline.



The Price of Iron


Will didn’t want to join the space marines, at least not at first. He was on vacation in the Alps when the carbon scored iron chunk broke through the Earth’s atmosphere and obliterated Rio De Janeiro. His soul, along with everything he had ever cared about, died that day.

Globules of spittle flew out of the drill sergeant mouth, “You are all a bunch of fucking retards!” The sergeant, having found another victim, leaned in closer towards private Spencer. Private Spencer couldn’t but help start blinking as the sergeant’s continued verbal barrage rained onto his face and seeped into his eyes.

The sergeant noted the reaction and with a grin only reserved for true Sith lords, asked, “Am I making you uncomfortable Spencer?”

Spencer started to nod but Will, who was laying on his back due to his own transgression, tapped the back of Spencer’s calf with the toe of his boot.

The drill sergeant, having caught the motion of Will’s foot from his peripheral vision, spun on him. “You got something to say private Armond?”

Will, still straight-arming his partially assembled weapon over his chest, replied, “No drill sergeant!”

The sergeant stepped away from Spencer and stood over Armond’s chest so that his crotch was centimeters from Will’s elevated weapon. “I saw you tap your boot into the side of Spencer’s leg. You are either clumsy or a liar. We can’t have clumsy in the marine core. You could cause the unwonted deaths of marines. What’s worse than the killing of marines? A liar.” He looked up and around at the rest of the platoon who were still working on assembling their weapons. “A liar is the worst kind of scum there is, short of being a Dessloc. Desslocs are sneaky fuckers who throw whole mountains down and destroy cities like Rio De Janeiro. He looked back down at met Will’s horrid stare. “Yes, I read your file private Armond. I know all about why you are here.” He reached out and slapped the weapon from Will’s grasp. It struck the floor above his head and further disassembled itself. “You dropped your weapon private Armond, how clumsy of you.” The sergeant stepped off and moved down the length of the barracks. “You have KP duty for the next seven nights.”

Will wanted to jump up and beat the fuckers ass. How dare he use the death of his family like that. His mind was fuming with rage. He was on the verge of tackling the fucker and beating him to with an inch of his life.

The sergeant called back, “Now get up and finish putting your weapon together before you really piss me off.” He then changed course and headed towards the latrine. “Seems as if I need to use the head. By the time I get back out, I expect you all to finish having put your weapons back together… or else.”

Once the sergeant was out of earshot, Spencer now feverishly working on assembling his weapon, said, “Is it true? You’re from Rio?”

Armond said, “I’m not discussing it.”

A moment of silence went between them until the sound of a gaseous release of a bowel movement echoed out from the latrine area.

Spencer said, “What are you still doing on your back? He is going to bust your ass.”

Armond knew that he hadn’t been given permission to get up again. He had seen other squad-mates fall for double contradicting orders given by the training cadre. At least this way, even with his arms still extended, he was relaxing on his back.

“Do you want me to get you your weapon?”

Armond shook his head as he said, “No. He is setting me up again. I’m going to take it and not pull any of you into this.”

Spencer went silent but then asked, “Then why did you tap my leg, if you didn’t want to get involved?”

Another round of explosions echoed out from the latrine. It was followed by the sergeant yelling out, “Yippie ki yay mother fuckers!”

Will didn’t want to ponder the question. He was still too frazzled. A part of him also suspected that some part of him had survived that day, and it scared him.




November 9 2018

Looking for a Critique Partner

Did you find this site?

Are you stupid (enough to want to swap stories with me)?


I have a sadistic sense of humor which bleeds through like a twelve-year-old girl experiencing her first period in the middle of her math class.


Have a thirst for some ‘bleeding edge’ sharing?

(yeah, I’m a bad man)



Email me


Just withhold the “periods”


November 5 2018

NaNoNoWriMo 2018 …

So I’m not doing it this year. I also didn’t do it last year (2017). I don’t recall if I did it in 2016? I do know that I did it in 2014 & 2015 and completed my 50K+ words days ahead of schedule.

This year? I’m taking a CompTIA Security+ class and it’s kicking my ass. I should be studying it right now but the muse of daydreams has my attention. I am her little bitch.

I know I haven’t put much attention into my blog or my writings over the past year. It’s just that my life has changed (again) and I no longer have the resources I once had. Sure I work four ten hour shifts a week but with my daughter being a lazy ass, and my son emulating her, most of my time is spent on damage control. It often results in doing what I can, which is never enough, and bringing my wife glasses bottles of wine.


I used to have my morning hour heading into work when I worked downtown. Now? I actually have more time, only its not regulated by myself, it’s more of a damage control thing where I’m constantly bouncing around to whatever new fire needs attending. [Cartoonish voice] You can call me captain kangaroo [/]

I have a secret.

It only took me weeks to figure out too (yeah… I’m slow). My textbook has a review section at the end of each chapter on the topics covered within it. I’ve elected to start skipping reading the bulk of the chapters (got time?) and instead to just focus on the bullet points at the end. Anything I don’t understand already (Hey, I do know a couple of Tings, one was my late cat. She was a rescue import from Tialand, hence the name).

Speeling is for ed10t’s.

I have another admission. I recently purchased (digital content mind you) an album from my youth and I’ve been playing the crap out of. I haven’t heard it played continuously in since the early 90’s. Listening to it now is bringing back a flood of memories and emotions that were long dormant. Yeah, the local radio stations play songs off of it from time to time but it isn’t the same continuous flow that I remember.

The album? How well do you know me? Yeah, I can feel the rolling of your eye thoughts from here.

(Eye thoughts? WTF Dave?)

It’s Hysteria by Def Leppard.

Am I experiencing a Midlife crisis percolating its way up?

Oh, and I also bought myself a new toy for work today. The Silver Surfer action figure.


It is going to look nice sitting next to my already purchased Infinity Gauntlet.



Life is busy.

Life is chaotic

Life is…










By the way, did you catch the extra “no” in my title? It stands for “NO”.

I know, I’m really subtle.

October 24 2018

What I wrote today…

Blind Date


Having heard his name called, Edwin stepped forward and picked up his beverage from the counter. He brought it up to his face and even through the protective spill cover, he could feel the heat radiate upon his upper lip. Not thinking it through, he blew down upon the beverage instead of sipping.

He realized what he had done as his gut tensed up as he glanced about at everyone nearby to see if they had caught him in his folly. Nobody had seemed to notice.

He hated blind dates.

Edwin walked over to the condiments counter and grabbed a couple of napkins before making his way to the seating area. He found an empty two chaired table seat that afforded him a good view of the entrance and parking lot.

Pulling out the chair, he cringed again as it scrapped across the tile floor in a grating sound. Several patrons lifted their heads to glance in the direction of the annoyance, to which he gave his best endearing smile and said, “Sorry.”

His mind contemplated his moving to another table and went about moving one table further down the length of the wall. This time he put his drink down onto the table and elected to lift his chair back instead of dragging it.

Feeling confident over his small victory, he plopped himself down into his seat.

He allowed himself to exhale. It was deeper than he realized as that too seemed to cause those around him to glance once more in his direction. He gave another smile, more forced this time, and said, “Sorry.”

He reached into his fleece blue jackets breast pocket and pulled out his mobile device. He placed it upon counter before him after noticing that he didn’t have any blinking lights telling him of some update. He prayed she didn’t flake on him. Edwin felt a tickle starting in the back of his throat and brought his coffee up to his mouth as he remembered it might be too hot still. His hand felt the warmth seeping through the cardboard carrying ring and held off long enough to catch a new notification flash on his device.

He put his coffee down and reached for the device. With his free hand, he reached for one of his napkins and fumbled bringing it before his mouth to cover his cough.

Flicking the unlock pattern he saw that he had received a new text message from Janelle. His mind feared this was it, she would flake on him.

He hated blind dates.

Edwin decided right then and there and if she did flake he was going to find some way at getting back at his coworker Charlotte for setting him up for another disaster. The last person he had tried dating, he had met online through an app. That had been one of the strangest dates he had ever experienced. Cotton candy was now, and forever more, ruined for him.

His device flashed again and that brought him back into the moment. He clicked on the small icon and read the message.

[Are you still planning on meeting me?]

The second message said [I don’t need a person who plays games]

Placing his coffee down again he fumbled out his reply [Yeah i’ll be there. I’m not the type to place games]

Place? He cursed his typo. Stupid dude, stupid. [I meant PLAY games]

He stared at his phone and awaited a response. Time ticked by and after what seemed like a minute he glanced away from his phone and glanced towards the parking lot again to take stock of the vehicles already there.

He was early. Far too early. They had agreed to meet in not for another half hour but Edwin hated being late. He also wanted to get a feel for her and see if she raised the hairs on the back of his neck. Yes, it was a game but the last chick had ruined cotton candy for him. It had taken him these past six months trying to come to terms with that. Was it game if it was out of a need of self-preservation? Was it game if it didn’t affect her, that is presuming she was normal-ish? He didn’t think so. He missed cotton candy.


October 10 2018

Random Story 2018-10-10

Deric closed his eyes and tried focusing on the instrumental trance music flowing through his headphones into his mind. It was from his favorite playlist and had an upbeat cadence that made him feel invigorated. The particular song he was listening to was a remix from one of his favorite songs in the mid-80’s.

He felt old.

Knowing he needed to get his thoughts down and into his google doc he cracked his eyes open again. He could have typed blindfolded but didn’t want to deplete the world’s reserves of squiggly red lines. It had nothing to do with humility, he just wasn’t that selfish of a person.

The page had the beginnings of a paragraph. His pinky wandered towards the backspace key and some part of his brain caught himself as it recalled that every semblance of a word counted towards his NaNoWriMo totals.

He cursed himself for even attempting this hedonistic project. He wasn’t an author. Who was he kidding? Apparently himself, though not successfully.

He sighed.

He looked up and around the table at those also sitting around the table. To his right sat Gennifer, a middle-aged woman who smelled of cats.

Continuing around on her right was Samual, a retired truck driver who used to run hauls for WallSmart. He preferred that people address him by Sam.

Then came Alexa. She had been coming to the writing group for about six months now and Deric could swear that everything in the woman’s wardrobe was some shade of pink.

Next was Alice, a retired truckstop diner waitress. She was always pleasurable but also knew how to shut someone down should they get rowdy.

To Alice’s right was Rebecca, a young woman that had shown up for the first time today. When she had introduced herself at the beginning of the meeting she had said she was writing about spiritual stuff. As young and vibrant as she was, Deric had stopped listening at that point.

Frank sad on her right and he was an older man that had served in Vietnam. If you hadn’t of been made aware of that fact during his own introduction, you couldn’t but help pick up on it by the best and hat he wore. Frank’s personality reminded him of that joke about vegan’s. How do you know when somebody is a vegan? Oh, they will tell announce it to you and everyone else in their vicinity.

Knock knock

Whose the-


Deric smirked to himself.

The last person, sitting to his left was Maria, a woman who seemed to have it all together. Deric’s sitting position along her side hadn’t been by accident.

Deric mentally cursed himself. He had gotten lost in yet another daydream. He grumbled and looked down at his laptop screen again. There was nothing new.

He hated NaNoWriMo.

His squirrelish mind jumped again. Why name your company WallSmart? I mean how can a wall be smart? He closed his eyes again hoping to lose himself once more in the 138bpm flowing through his ears.

Visions of fictional beings started forming in his mind. One was a starfighter jock and they were weaving in and out of enemy fire. Yeah, he could work with this. He tried letting go of all the other partial apparations and focused on that one. It was not to be. It dissolved along with all the rest.

He looked towards the clock in the lower corner of his laptop screen. He had spent the last 45 minutes and had almost nothing to show for it.

He hated NaNoWriMo

His phone, sitting on the table beside him, vibrated. Thankful for the distraction he picked it up and saw his wife had emailed him. He skimmed the message and having seen that it wasn’t important, got lost in one of the adds in the email message.

The Veddyom movie had been released a few days ago. He wanted to see that. He really wanted to see that. His mind played with the idea of finding time to catch it but then focused once more on his blank screen.

He hated NaNoWriMo.

He had heard about the movie almost a year ago and had been anticipating its release. Why shouldn’t he go and catch it? He was allowed to treat himself to something entertaining, albeit temporary.

Stormy Dannfield had been in town just the week before and he had the chance to go see her perform onstage. His wife wouldn’t have cared about his going. He found himself wondering why. Was it because she trusted him? Or was it because she knew he wasn’t the type to try anything?

His blank page stared back up at him and he closed his eyes once more in embarrassment.

He needed to focus on getting something down on the screen. Something, anything, just words. The back of his mind reminded him that he had promised to stop by the grocery store on the way home and pick up some essentials. Did shopping list items count towards his word totals? It technically did count as him writing something. Could he come up with 1667 things to shop for in the next ten minutes?

Who was he kidding?

He hated NaNoWriMo.

He tried to focus once more on that starfighter pilot. He tried envisioning them streaking once more through enemy fire but found his imagination faltering at the type of weapons being shot at him. SHould they be kinetic or energy based? Kinetic seemed to make more sense as all scientifically accurate energy based weapons would be traveling at the speed of light and thus wouldn’t be avoidable.

Visions of other Star Battle franchises flowed through his mind. They weren’t being accurate with their descriptions and they made billions at the box office and in merchandise. He then paused to ask the question all writers as of themselves, am I writing for art or for money.

His page was still blank.

F-you NaNoWriMo.


October 3 2018

(Part of) What I wrote today…

David walked over to Anna’s seat and plopped himself down beside her with a coffee in each hand. He held one out towards her and in unison, they both said, “Sorry-” and ended up each cutting the other off.

They avoided each other’s eyes and both broke out in an all too familiar grin that felt as if they were still a couple. Anna’s mind came back to the reality that they were no longer a couple quicker and that her father was dying. Still, as painful as the distraction was, it was bittersweet. She brought the coffee up to her lips. It smelled burnt and soured. It was everything that one would expect of free emergency room coffee.

Part of her, a deep feeling, one of familiarity and trust, wanted to reach out and embrace David. Only he was no longer hers. She was the one that had broken off their relationship. He had always wanted children and that was a large part of their separation. Or at least that is what she kept trying to tell herself. The truth was far more convoluted in biases. But now, ten some-odd years later, did it really matter anymore?

Still… the feelings lingered. The desire to feel close to another human being, even when the most important man in her life was ending.

She lifted her right hand and took a big sip of the coffee. She felt the burning sensation it caused as it boiled her throat on the way down.

Pain and grief. An immutable couple.

David sat in the decades-old dated green chair on her left side and reach out his right hand to hold her left hand. She met his face and saw both pity and love in his eyes.

She felt herself yearning to be with him again. She closed her eyes and focused on how her hand felt within his. He had always been a kinesthetic person. Always wanting to hold her, hug her, kiss her at random times which was always the wrong time. She would be making dinner and he would swoop in from elsewhere and attempt to kiss her on his way to another part of the house. Could she not see she was busy with making them dinner? His timing was always terrible.

When they drove places, he would often reach out and take her hand into his own and after a few seconds would feel the need to pull her hand back out. It’s not like she disliked holding his hand but it would always start to feel clammy. She hated it.

She could feel the moisture growing even now as he still held her hand in his own.

She tried to focus on something else.

She did. Her father was dying in the next room.

Feeling a rush of anger and resentment over how she had allowed herself to dawdle over her life with David while her father was barely clinging to life was too much. Anna pulled her hand out of his and started to stand.

David looked towards her and said, “I didn’t mean-”

She cut him off, “I know.” She then started towards the doorway and ended up spilling her coffee all over her front. She groaned in pain as the coffee was just as painful burning her right breast as it was going down her throat. David started to stand but she just dropped the coffee and blurted out, “I need to get some air” and started sprinting.