Cinematic Gold

This used to be one of my favorite movies.  I have to admit, it is exactly what I remember it to be.

New Out in the Garage Description (in progress)

I just wrote this but I felt that it was pertinent to share it with you (as well as update the description on my BOOKS page).  My goal was to write a more enticing, professional-sounding description of my book, and I think I have accomplished that (just go back and find the various other versions, strewn about throughout this blog).  This description will also be the one on Amazon and all the other websites as well as the one on the back of the book.  Anyways, here is the direction I am going, and I think this turned out very well (we'll see if it is the one I actually end up using):

Lance Adamson was born in the 80's, stranded in Nodtown.  There, he lives with his mom and Grandpa Harry at Grandpa Harry's house.  He spends most of his time playing drums -- when he's not in school, anyways -- jamming with Grandpa Harry, who plays bass, but it is the furthest thing from cool.  While Grandpa Harry is the one who took Lance out to the garage for the first time and taught him how to play -- how to really play, how to let the music carry him away -- to Grandpa Harry, jazz is religion, and, nowadays, all Lance really wants to do is rock out.  Wayne, Lance's best friend, plays trumpet with them -- but he is actually more of a guitarist.  He plays that thing as often as other dudes masturbate.  Lance and Wayne could totally start the greatest band in rock n' roll history, except that Grandpa Harry will never let that happen, not in that garage, anyway.  Lance knows that it's time for a change...

Of the various different versions I have written, I think this one is my favorite.  It sets up the story but doesn't really give anything away.

ISBOA

I am on a roll here, it has been like three days in a row, now, that I have updated this.

It seemed high time that I should get a bit saucy, so here it goes.  This blog has officially been saucified. There, it's been done.  It's irreversible.

Now that the saucification has been asserted, and then doubly or triply verified, I will be eligible for membership in the International Saucy Blog Owners of America (ISBOA).

Then, as other members of ISBOA, I will gain the full authority to officially verify the saucy levels of another persons blog and deem that person eligible for the group, or not.  We're not that picky so we're more like the Masons than the Illuminati.  And we're saucier than either of those groups, so there's that bonus of being a member of ISBOA.

Needless to say there are a lot of hipsters who are members, because, let's face it, who else are saucier than hipsters, other than, say, drag queens?

ISBOA FOR LIFE!

xoxoxo

































Okay, shit... ISBOA just disbanded.  We are no longer a group.  It seems like, combined, we had too much sauciness than even we could handle.



























































































Well, it looks like I have to become a drag queen now.

Thursday Night Jams

Erotica

Eh, life.  Isn't it grand?  No, that's a serious question.  I think sometimes a person forgets that can happen.  He forgets that life doesn't have to be about what shit he is going through, because, in general, life itself is all hard and disappointing and whatever.  But then there is also those few fleeting moments of happiness, and hopefully he has enough of them close enough together that just when he starts to come down from the last one, he has a new one to renew his faith that there is any meaning to existence at all.  And once he knows what that feels like, then he tries to carry it with him and remind himself of it when the reality doesn't match up to the state-of-mind.