September 27, 2015

F 7, U 12

Woke up around 4:00 AM to the sound of an animal puking. Kicked the dog off the bed before she got all of her mess on the covers. That's when I found the cold pee spot with my foot.

Stripped the bed, set up the washer, and found another cold pee spot in the living room. Threw some water and a towel on that, started the wash, and went back to bed. 20 minutes later, I heard the sound of the sink running over. Got that cleaned up and went back to bed. 8:30, I was up, steam cleaning the carpet when I discover the cat has poop stuck on her tail. Chased the cat around with scissors and the furminator and successfully de-crapped a cat.

At 10:30, the laundry was done enough to put the bed back together. (Minus the comforter hanging to dry over the shower curtain rod.) That's when I found a hole in my set of new sheets.
Ok Universe. I see you've put alot of thought into this. You may have precisely one Fuck of mine today. Just don't ruin your dinner.

September 7, 2015

The Fruits of His Red Pen

Author's note:  Thanks to my twitter friend @boddenbooks prodding me that I should be writing, this got a makeover yesterday.  Thunderhead helped me with the editing, and I'm happier with how it flows.  For you history/unsolved crimes fans, here's the updated DB Cooper story I've been working on.

December 14th, 1971, two figures are seated around a metal table in a small, neglected Seattle police precinct.  The second coming of John Dillinger had recently taken a $200,000 swan dive out of a 727. Law enforcement is doing everything they could to find the culprit and any accomplices.   
The windowless room, lit by a single buzzing fluorescent light, contained three men. The youngest has the look of a marine corps dropout, his blond hair cropped, his shirt pressed. He wears a permanent scowl that was more a scar than a mouth.  His shoulders share, and pacing like a pit fighter waiting for the bell.  His partner, Douglas Graham, sat facing the third man.