Positive Review - Folded Pages Distillery

Dream Ender got a positive review on Folded Pages Distiller. Here is a part of the review:

. . . C.K. Edwards is one of my favorite self-published authors and this book is a great representation of what he is capable of. I found the amount of action and romance to balance each other well. The plot line was engaging and the character building strong. It was hard to put down, especially with the cliff hanger endings Edwards uses for his chapter breaks. I became genuinely invested in each of the characters and found Vincent to be a great protagonist who drove the story forward, always doing something and never stagnant. It was interesting to think about what our world could really be like if dreams, nightmares, became reality.

Library fun

Do the two words in the title above sound like an oxymoron? Stop reading then, please.

However, if library and fun always go together in your mind, please consider the following for this evening's entertainment:

Author C.K. Edwards at Eagle Mountain Public Library

Topic - Getting Started On Your Book

Give me a chance to ruin your opinion of library fun FOREVER!

A poem not about rocks

Warm in my bed.

Layer on layer separate

shut me from the cold air of my room,

insulate the bare skin I've shed to

while heard in the kitchen, after hours,

consequent flesh of my flesh whiles an hour to midnight

with waiting wolf

or lamb.

I will know with no harm done

or blood blotting her sifted snow.

Eavesdrop I, tally seconds to a witching hour,

wounding with doubt if lamb he proves,

but cooling carcasses, fur scarlet-stained in a drift

trump what grievance I give.

Alone in my layers, count 60 then again.

12 to come and see her whole

but the dark will come again, the cold, and

I'll retreat to layers and let her live,

unearth the wolf or lamb.

A poem not about pigs

line leaving pen,

metaphorical blood flow

along arm thru hand from finger

up at once and end in me

this line draining or filling,

more me or less

words with thought their anchor,

held now here,

best here,

true here,

blood and ink now

after Arial.

Thinking about serial killers

Next book I start is probably going to be a YA. Most likely a Pocket Hole three. After that I think I'll start a book where one of the main characters is a serial killer. That makes sense, right? Anyways, I have been thinking about serial killers a little.

water

the base

foundation, substance

such source and beginning

where the end can be anything.

water sack ruptured,

puddle on floor and spray on walls,

and water is all . . . or most.

Mostly water.

you your walk last night

some park, your inadequate dog leashed

more mostly water

now a world water red

blood by any other name

spilt today and encouraged first.

this my springboard dive

to oceans envisioned

sea I see and will create

your sack and your sack and your sack.

the taste now on my tongue

water wells

I am coming.

Poem # something

past weakness is forever weakness,

pebbles lodged in remembered time,

a snag not foothold,

a hidden hook in foliage,

wedged stone,

scum stirred to the surface,

clear water clouded,

potable then remembered filth,

remembered error,

remembered hurt,

forever sullied.

Dream Ender free for a day

Yeah, I know, dreams are usually free, but if you are asking that question you didn't read carefully. Dream Ender is free. As in, a book called Dream Ender, offered on Amazon for free just today.

Read more than just every other word in a sentence you idiot.

Shadow and Shade the paperback (giveaway)

No, not Shadow and Shade the movie. That hasn't come out yet. This is for the paperback book titled Shadow and Shade. Duh.

Go to this link for my Amazon giveaway for a chance to win Shadow and Shade, the first book in the Without Mother Without Father trilogy.

Your chances of winning might be better than your chance of meeting Louis Tiffany the next time you attend the Antiques Road Show (good odds, actually, because he's dead).

Uno (not the game) days left for free Pocket Hole

Tommy's dentist, Dr. Smiler, strongly suggests that you grab a copy of Pocket Hole. If you don't, well, he can be very persuasive.

Pocket Hole free for two days

Yesterday, Pocket Hole was free for the next three days.

But one minus three. You know.

So, free for the next two days. Bobby Bob is of the opinion that if you didn't get Pocket Hole yesterday, you should get it today.

Pocket Hole free for three days

For the luv. Here are some questions you should ask yourself.

Giant star-nosed moles - what do they smell like?

If you ever run into a galbog should you touch the cone on its head?

Why are all dentists from Scipio?

All important questions that are answered in Pocket Hole. Don't delay any longer. You can download this book for free the next three days. Did I say don't delay? I don't know, I can't spare the time to read what I've written above. Hurry!

Daily Ambivalence - just another broken promise

Riding home on the train today holding an umbrella I didn't use once. Even though the weatherman said it would rain today and I should pack my umbrella.

Just another broken promise.

Like that time when Jocellyn told me she would wait for me when I went off to war.

But she didn't.

Because she died.

Just another broken promise . . . eh.

Daily Ambivalence - so, did the guy who invented rice krispie treats ever make any money from that

Scientists always seem to get credit when they invent something.

The same isn't true for master chefs. I mean, sure, Mildred Day's name is often bandied about how maybe she invented rice krispie treats way back in 1939, but I knew Mildred. She totally hated marshmallows.

And you can darn well be sure it wasn't Snap, Crackle, or Pop. They're just animated characters.

But you know, if animated characters could do things like invent stuff I still wouldn't put my money on them. I'd say it was probably Count Chocula. He's got that big castle, you know? And what do all castles have? Big kitchens and big libraries.

Big libraries have lots of cookbooks, and I'll bet Count Chocula uses his big kitchen all the time. Now his cereal sucks so he's for sure not eating that. I don't think it's too far a stretch from there to say he probably invented rice krispie treats.

And he didn't get any credit. It's sad.

So, did the guy who invented rice krispie treats ever make any money from that . . . eh.

Daily Ambivalence - sometimes the wheels on my train sound like drum beats

No standard clickety-clack today but a drumbeat, and I can't think this difference anything but ominous as it builds and recedes between stops, a hardly heard promise of approaching armies, invaders that will more than pillage, alien men and alien minds their dark ways to learn, their dark tongue confess, learn, speak, their thoughts embrace and then understand.

Those around me now on this train, can they hear it? The drum. The beating drum. The voice in the wilderness announcing the approaching end.

Or it could be just a loose axle brush. I've heard a loose axle brush can make that sound too.

Sometimes the wheels on my train sound like drum beats . . . eh.

That dream about pecs

There was that dream where for the first time in my life I looked down and I had defined pectorals, and usually you have to work out to get those but I had gotten surgery and it's not that there is anything wrong with that but instead of filling the bags with silicone the pec bags were filed with Kentucky Fried chicken and in the dream I was really hungry and the nearest fast food restaurant was more than a block away but there right in front of me were two bags of the Colonel's finest and don't hate me, though in the end I was kind of disappointed because the doctors had filled both bags with extra crispy instead of original and there wasn't a single wing.

Daily Ambivalence - a guy told me that when you shoot a watermelon with a 9mm it explodes

Not the 9mm. The 9mm does not explode. The watermelon does.

And the guy was right. Kind of. The watermelon doesn't actually explode so much as blow apart. Not as impressive, really, which makes me wonder - what would it be like if Michael Bay had created the universe?

Part of me is kind of sad watermelons don't explode like mini super novas when you shoot them with a 9mm, but if Michael Bay had created the universe can you imagine how scary that would be? Things could explode for just about any reason. Let me correct that. Things could explode for any reason.

Just brushing your teeth would be treacherous. Open the medicine cabinet and - is that toothpaste in the tube or plastic explosive? That dog you just kicked, is it a chihuahua or a decepticon? That rumble in the floor, is that a passing train or is it the precursor to the first of eight earthquakes that will all register 8 on the richter scale so that when the movie is made it can say something like "And on the eighth day Bay said it wasn't good!"

Yeah, now that I think about it, I'm glad watermelons just kind of blow apart.

A guy told me that when you shoot a watermelon with a 9mm it explodes . . .eh.

Daily Ambivalence - forget about having a distinctive smell

Some guys are all about smelling the same way all the time. You know, they buy the same deodorant, the same cologn or aftershave. People who know them are comforted by the sameness, the sense that the person they know is encapsulated by an odor that surrounds them like invisible moths.

My dad is an Old Spice guy. Father's Day has always been a cake walk with him. For myself, I prefer to mix it up. More than that, I like to be a little strange.

On a Monday, maybe I'll choose Play-Doh as a scent. You can really buy that. Look it up. It comes in a bottle and everything. And that's nice, but something you can pour out of a bottle is too easy. If I do Play-Doh on Monday then I'll do something like Taco Time Mexi-fries on Tuesday. That's harder than it sounds. You can't just eat a bag of Mexi-fries and call it good. You can't let your breath do all the work, that's cheating. No, your whole body has to smell like Taco Time Mexi-fries. Your whole freaking body!

I make a soap.

The number of smells available to you when you embrace the rejection of distinctive smell is only limited by your imagination. Summertime Storm is nice, but so is New Car or Rodeo Clown. On Saturdays I like to get really crazy, so if you see me on a Saturday you might smell Burnt Asparagus or Lunchroom Corn.

Yeah, when I was in high school Elsha was all the rage. I've moved on.

Forget about having a distinctive smell . . . eh.

Daily Ambivalence - I still prefer a book

Despite all the electronic options out there today, I still prefer a book.

Mostly because of the prophecy.

Some people like the feel of paper pages on their fingers, the easy sense of where you are in a story. Or like Shoeless Joe it's the smell, but not of grass, with books it's the smell of old paper, of print that has spent too much time stacked next to others of its ilk. It is the view of books on the shelf, memorials to a reading history. It is sitting next to man you can see is reading one of your past loves. You don't interrupt but in him you sense a kindred spirit. It is the history of the page, the reality that words have lived on paper for all remembered time. Some people prefer books for these reasons, but yeah, for me I like books because of the prophecy.

I mean, it has to be real. That old woman had totally legit fortuneteller written all over her. So all I have to do is have a book in my coat pocket when that fake Elvis shoots me because he thinks I stole his spot on the Strip. The book will stop the bullet and Jason Statham who happens to be nearby will be so impressed he'll ask me to be in his next movie. And I'll win the lottery the next day.  I'll be set. The old woman described all this in detail.

Bummer about the alien invasion though.

I still prefer a book . . . eh.

Murderous rage

I saw a flyer just a few minutes ago that said "Drive Your Engagement."

I, um . . . what?

I guess the intended meaning of that statement was "Take Charge of Your Life," or something like that, but it didn't say "Take Charge of Your Life." It said "Drive Your Engagement."

The flyer nearly sent me into a murderous rage.

"Drive" and "Engage" are probably power words that you can learn about in college. The goal is to find some way of combining power words on a flyer that make the flyer become a "Power Flyer."

I suspect there is some organization out there that hands out awards for the creative use of power word combinations. There's a dinner in a major city once a year or once a quarter and marketing types flock from all corners of the world to see who the hot new word shitters are. Pardon my French.

Well, writing these few words has helped. I'm calm. I've done my serenity now until the next time.

Daily Ambivalence - the disturbing history of glue

Most people have used glue, or at least seen a bottle of glue at some point in their life. It is a common household product that few in their hectic dash through life pause to consider.

Let us do that now. Pause. Consider. Glue.

For one, glue comes in all colors of the rainbow and is used to join disparate surfaces together and make them one.

Wow, that actually sounds like a metaphor for one of modern society's magic words. The "d" word. That's somewhat disturbing.

Disturbing is also a word that starts with d. But it isn't magic.

Dragons are magic though. And they start with d.

The disturbing history of glue . . . eh.

I wonder what empty feels like

Does it feel like this? Inside your mind. More. Inside some cavity you feel but can't see, a mystic nothing, unsearchble, a fountain of story you took from without thought, but now you cast your net and it isn't that the net comes back empty, the net doesn't come back at all.

That's probably hubris.

Whining like that presupposes exchange, that a pen can bleed infinity dry, that my mind can see an end to circles. My melancholy is less than a nothing, a petty criminal, a repeat offender come to steal hope at the end of one miracle as another miracle gets set to unfold. I've met this melancholy before. I saw him last time and the time before, but hope stolen is hope gone. It returns when it returns.

Daily Ambivalence - obvious statements

I have a friend who makes observations sometimes that are pretty obvious. The thing is, he offers them up like they are oral nuggets that could be worth millions. Things like:

My wife really enjoyed her time at the mall yesterday.

or

If my wife says she spent "about 20 dollars" that's code for she spent 50 dollars.

or

If we are going somewhere and need to leave in ten minutes and my wife says "I'm almost ready, I just have one more eye left," that means we're gong to be an hour late.

I'm nice about it whenever he says stuff like that, but in my mind I'm always thinking, "Duh."

Obvious statements . . . eh.

New tradition after writing a book

I decided I will post this poem each time I finish a book. Maybe I'll update it from time to time and tweak a word. I like to write poems. I don't think I'm great, but I'm pretty sure I'm not embarrassingly bad. Here you go:

This book will end

my work of some days,

meager collection of metaphor and simile

arks in story that rose and fell

shifted setting and by degrees

faded in strength.

You are derivative of other works, I say,

yet you will shine for some,

a fitting first for sequels spun in inkjet loins,

a child that will bear my name.

Silent, without voice

but full of words, the riddle

I say you were formed in a thinking womb of months or years

then birthed to impartial scrutiny,

released now, fleeing to the world an infant,

fresh into the hands of strangers

to cherish or abuse.

Tomorrow I will place pen on paper,

parent skills awanting,

and create another.

Daily Ambivalence - a telephone used to actually ring

My daughter has a purse. It's big and it's one of those purses that is so ugly it's cute. Not too many things can be so ugly they achieve cute status. Purses and chihuahuas maybe. With women, the uglier a purse or a chihuahua is the more the woman likes them.

That never worked for me in high school. The fact that I was ugly just meant that I was ugly. It sucked, but at the same time, it wasn't confusing. Life was simpler back then. People who were ugly remained ugly, telephones sounded like telephones, and when you saw a chihuahua you kicked it.

Everything's upside down these days.

Today the guy sitting next to me on the train just got a phone call. His ringtone sounded like the tardis. I mean, I start looking for David Tennant but it's just a phone. Right now I can hear both sides of the conversion. It's the dude's mom calling from Florida.

And look, there's a chihuahua in that girl's purse. I almost reflexively kick the darn thing but I've learned from the last time. Too bad. I like kicking chihuahuas.

A telephone used to actually ring . . . eh.

The battlefields are many

The order comes from a man who received his from another man who probably received the same from another and so on up a chain of command you do not know and wouldn't care to.

Doesn't matter. The only order that counts is the one given directly and it is to go and take that hill from the enemy.

Undiscovered country.

You are compelled to move. The hill is a hill, not unlike the hill you took yesterday and the hill you will take tomorrow. If anyone knows the significance of the hill, all you know is that it isn't you. Will this rise in elevation hold significance for some on a distant date? Will there be a memorial marking at least the day, if not remembering you?

A day in fatigues or another day at the keyboard. I am set to take another hill, write another string of words, not compelled by orders any stronger than the incessant clamor in my head.

In the grand scheme of things, will it ever matter? Who will mark this day besides myself? Just another hill.

Enter to win a free copy of Pocket Hole

Goodreads Book Giveaway

Pocket Hole

by C.K. Edwards

Giveaway ends May 23, 2015.

See the giveaway details at Goodreads.

Enter to Win

Daily Ambivalence - I can only afford breakfast at Melanie's

Not that Melanie's breakfast is all that bad.

She does under cook her eggs and she serves links instead of patties. When she makes her orange juice and the directions say add three cans of water I suspect she adds four. Her hash browns aren't shredded but instead are cubed and she always glares at me when I ask for ketchup. By way of cold cereal the only choices are corn flakes or raisin bran and she won't stock anything else but skim milk. And her cream of wheat has huge lumps in it. I know there are people who prefer it that way but not me.

Dude, I guess I hate breakfast at Melanie's.

I can only afford breakfast at Melanie's . . . eh.

Ran out of milk

I woke up this morning and there was no milk in the fridge.

I'm not sure how that happened but the ramifications of no milk in the fridge are horrific.

I took the train to the station and then ran the rest of the way to work. Then I did a little weight lifting. In today's society what do you cap that off with? A protein drink, of course. And if you don't have milk for your protein drink, what do you use?

Water.

I'm drinking it as I type this and it tastes like death.

So you finish a book

So you finish a book.

Sure there's the fireworks and crowds of well wishers pounding at your door all hours of the night, but when that fades you are left alone again in your mind. Characters that had moved in and taken space have left.

Possibly you killed them and they shant return. Others found their denouement and have no need to ever see you again, lost wholly to their happy ends.

And you alone in your mind.

Some writers are rather loose and will shack up with the next promising protagonist that happens by. Indeed, I know some writers who have hordes of amorous heroes and heroines clamoring to be the next conquest.

Other writers bid adieu to a story and are more like the widow returning to an empty home after throwing a last flower on a casket set to be lowered. A lifetime with a soulmate is over and recreating that same magic will take time.

I am more like the latter. Sometimes I wish I was a little more strumpet-like.

This was a fun book to write

I wanted to write a book where monsters could be real but where the Earth's population is, for the most part, unaware of this minor detail.

I know, other books do this, but you really have to suspend disbelief that all the normal humans live unaware of the body count around them or not once capture the shuffling walk of a few mummies on their iPhones.

I mean, dude, if Lon Chaney Jr.'s Wolfman was real don't you think I would have tracked him down by now and asked for a paw print autograph?

Of course I would.

Well, here is Dream Ender, a couple days from the life of a guy named Vincent. He lives in a world, maybe ours, where anything can happen and usually does. We just don't know about it because we forget.

That dream about the motivational speaker

There was that dream about the motivational speaker and he kept telling everyone to smile until it hurts and there was a guy next to me that was doing such a good job that he was bawling like a baby and I told the guy that smiling until it hurts was just a figure of speech but he didn't believe me and after a while I noticed that everyone was crying except me and I didn't want to smile that hard but peer pressure can eat away at you and I was glad I had my portable paper mache kit with me so I made a smile that was bigger than my face but everybody started freaking out because they said that was cheating and by then the paper mache smile had hardened so I knocked everybody unconscious with my smile and as I stood over their still forms I proudly proclaimed "Now that's smiling until it . . ."

Yeah, I'm not going to finish that one.

Daily Ambivalence - movie theater popcorn isn't health food

You know those morning shows where they interview movie stars just before the movie star's movie comes out and sometimes the morning show even reports on news? Well, I just learned they can be helpful sometimes.

Like today when the tall, thin guy with short hair said that movie theater popcorn isn't health food.

Now, I'm not the kind of person who just hears something and then takes it as gospel. I'm going to do a little research to verify that guy's statement, but he seemed pretty confident when he said that movie theater popcorn isn't health food.

It's a little counterintuitive because the origin of movie theater popcorn is corn and corn is a vegetable or a grain depending on whether you get it out of a can or off a cob. And both of those are good for you. I think they're even part of the pyramid or rectangle. One of those.

Bottom line though, I'm glad I was late for work today and decided to switch on the tube. It's not every day that you learn something new.

Movie theater popcorn isn't health food . . . eh.

Daily Ambivalence - you get in trouble if you open the back door on a school bus

I've learned this lesson for myself.

When you pull the bar on the back door an alarm goes off and the bus driver stops the bus and comes back and yells at you.

Then he kicks you off because you're too old to be on a school bus and all the kids hang out their windows and laugh at you as the school bus drives away, especially that red-headed kid in the back.

Jerk. When he dared me to pull the bar I'll bet he knew this would happen.

You get in trouble if you open the back door on a school bus . . . eh.

Daily Ambivalence - you go down a ways and then take a left

Sometimes I have a hard time making a decision.

I mean, don't get me wrong, once I make a decision it is final. Unless I change my mind. But usually a decision pretty much sets my course. Barring new information crossing my desk or if the decision I made turns out to be hard or inconvenient. Or if I get distracted.

You know, maybe I actually have a hard time making decisions.

I've been driving for a while now because that old man said I should go down a ways and then take a left, but what is a ways? It's been hours now and I keep shying away from the lefts that flash by. One after another and I keep coming up with decisions that argue against going left.

I'm getting hungry so I might stop at the next McDonalds that I see.

I'll get a Big Mac. Or a Spicy Chicken.

Crap, I'm in trouble if they have McRibs on the menu.

You go down a ways and then take a left . . . eh.

Daily Ambivalence - my daughter saw a show where they crash a lot of cars

It was a Hollywood movie and apparently all the good guys and all the bad guys had really nice cars that they liked to crash and go fast in.

Which would make it hard to tell the difference between bad guys and good guys, I would think. I'd hate to be one of the good guys driving my car fast looking for a place to crash it and all of a sudden I kill what I think is a bad guy but later that day after I've totalled my car I find out he was a good guy the whole time.

Would that make me a bad guy?

I don't think I'm going to see that movie, even though my daughter said it was bad A.

My daughter saw a show where they crash a lot of cars . . . eh.

Daily Ambivalence - that girl is taking luggage to work

There was that Joe vs. the Volcano movie where having a great set of luggage kind of saved the day, but if I remember right Joe was going to an island out in the middle of nowhere to throw himself in a volcano.

I would be willing to bet that girl over there is  just going to work, but her briefcase has wheels on it.

My gut reaction to this is mostly negative, as in, what an idiot, you're trip is going to amount to a walk from your car to a build twenty feet away, but maybe I'm looking at it wrong.

I mean, I'm assuming that girl has a job where she goes to boring meetings about subrogation, but maybe she has a job where they do fun things like have sleep overs. If that's the case, bringing a piece of luggage to work that has wheels on it makes perfect sense. She probably has jammies in there and a scary movie and maybe her favorite blanket. Yeah, you know, I'll bet that 's it.

I feel bad that I misjudged that girl. I'm going to go over there and introduce myself, maybe apologize.

That girl is taking luggage to work . . . eh.

That dream about my neighbor's sauna

There was that dream where my neighbor Wes Craven built the sauna in his backyard but he used balsa wood instead of cedar because it was on sale at Lowe's and I still didn't think it was weird that Wes Craven was my neighbor and I can't really think of a movie where teenagers got stabbed by meat thermometers while they basted in a sauna but that could just be a shortcoming in my horror library or this post could be the germ of an idea for some up-and-coming horror director and if that is the case my one suggestion would be that a cop at the crime scene make some kind of quip like "this kid was well done."

Daily Ambivalence - I think I'm cool because I use chopsticks

People look cool using chopsticks. Kind of like some people look cool when they smoke cigarettes.

Only when you use chopsticks you use two sticks and you use them to shove food in your face instead of cancer. And you don't light chopsticks on fire. That's another difference. When you get chopsticks at a restaurant they're usually rolled in paper, so that's a similarity. I suppose if you were a smoker and you had two cigarettes you could use them as chopsticks too.

Wow, I never thought of that but that would be unbelievably cool. I mean, picture Humphrey Bogart in a fancy restaurant with Ingrid Bergman and one minute he's smoking his fag and the next he's eating dim sung. That blows my mind how cool that would be.

Maybe I'll take up smoking. Sure it'll shorten my life and make my teeth yellow, not to mention my religious prohibition, but freakin' cigarette chopsticks!? Cigarette chopsticks!!??

I think I'm cool because I use chopsticks . . . eh

Daily Ambivalence - some piano keys are stupid

There are eighty-eight keys on a regular piano and I wonder sometimes why there are so many because no song in the history of the world has ever used the top key or the bottom key. Mozzart tried to do it once but it's almost impossible to figure out how many lines you have to draw through the note to signify the correct staff position for the bottom or top note. Mozart missed the high note by two keys and he was so upset he gave up music altogether.

Not too many people know that story.

It reminds me of that other story about Beethoven and the biker gang.

Some piano keys are stupid . . . eh.

Daily Ambivalence - my backyard has issues

In the springtime some people look at the blossoms on trees and feel a new song in their heart, the smell of green, the hope of birth and beginnings.

I usually look at my backyard and think, "man, that is going to look like suck again."

We bought a dog last year and the odds are the yard will attain a greater level of suck than ever before. I feel a song in my heart too, but it sounds like a garage full of kazoos.

Now, I really love my dog but I hate kazoos. Which makes me wonder if I came home one day and my dog was playing a kazoo if they'd cancel each other out or if one would reign supreme.

I guess that's a stupid question. You've got to be able to hum to play a kazoo and Oakley's more of a whistler.

My backyard has issues . . . eh.

Daily Ambivalence - the man with the bushy mustache said I should meet him by the fern

Or maybe he just said "by Fern."

This puts me in kind of a dangerous position. Did the guy mean to meet him by a plant or a person? If a person, is that any person named Fern or am I supposed to look for the person named Fern. Is there anyone in the world who has attained one-name status like Weird Al or Hulk, but their name is Fern?

I wish the guy with the bushy mustache had just said to meet at McDonalds. I wouldn't know which one, of course, but then at least I could order a McBitchin.

The man with the bushy mustache said I should meet him by the fern . . . eh.

That dream about waiting in line

There was that dream where I was waiting in line but I had no idea what I was waiting for and I didn't want to ask the guy in front of me because it was Abraham Lincoln and who wants to look stupid in front of Abraham Lincoln so I turned around to ask the guy behind me but it was kind of a similar problem because Genghis Khan probably only spoke Mongolian but I found out that he was a Star Trek fan because anytime you find yourself in front of Genghis Khan it is mandatory to do the Captain Kirk "Kahn!" thing with your hands in the air and Genghis smiled and gave me the live long and prosper sign but immediately contradicted his wish by chopping my head off and that's when I woke up, so I never did find out what the line was for.

Daily Ambivalence - sometimes I think I should have taken up painting forgeries

One reason I never took up painting forgeries is that I can't draw a straight line. But you know, I think that was true for a lot of cubist painters as well.

More importantly, I never took up painting forgeries because every time I take a paint brush in hand I hear Bob Ross's voice in my head chanting "happy trees" and then I lose consciousness.

When I wake up I'm always at that abandoned gas station in Key West and another ship lost-at-sea has been blamed on Johnny Depp.

Sometimes I think I should have taken up painting forgeries . . .eh.

Daily Ambivalence - call me crazy but that last meeting I went to where they discussed the subrogation policy was boring

I was reading a book called Dune. Really enjoying it, you know, and then it hit me - this is way better than that subrogation meeting I went to today.

Subrogation is a legal term that means someone can do something to someone else, I don't really remember because it was a boring meeting, but I feel bad because I think I was given an assignment in the meeting and a lot of money is a stake. But the meeting was boring! It wasn't fun at all like reading a book about giant worms and desert prophets.

I don't want to be unreasonable. I know a meeting about subrogation is inherently less interesting than a seminal work of fiction, but the least my boss could have done was add sound effects, maybe a little CGI.

Call me crazy but that last meeting I went to where they discussed the subrogation policy was boring . . .eh.

Daily Ambivalence - I wonder if there is such a thing as the smell of bacon

If this sounds like a strange question refer to my previous post.

I'm almost beside myself worrying over this. What if there really isn't such a thing as the smell of bacon?

I'd be okay if there wasn't such a thing as the smell of burnt hair, or even the smell of most Calvin Klein perfumes. I mean, who doesn't hate those commercials?

But bacon? You take away the smell of bacon and I begin to doubt the reality of love or kindness, the feeling of peace you get when you write a check to the IRS, the magical sound of geese in a bowling alley.

If the smell of bacon doesn't exist, then nothing good exists.

I hate science.

I wonder if there is such a thing as the smell of bacon . . . eh.

Daily Ambivalence - I'm trying a new brand of toothpaste

The last tube of toothpaste was blue but this one is green.

Only, the fact that this toothpaste is green is all a lie, apparently, because according to a show I watched there is no such thing as color in the physical world. When we see color it is just our mind interpreting different wavelengths of light. This was brought into relief recently by the white and gold dress that was big for a day.

The thing that concerns me is that maybe I haven't changed toothpastes at all, maybe there isn't more than one toothpaste in all the world, and even if I try a red cinnamon one it will just be my mind playing tricks on me.

Man, my favorite color used to be yellow.

I'm trying a new brand of toothpaste . . . eh.

That dream about a short sleeve

There was that dream where one of my sleeves was longer than the other one and there could have been numerous logical reasons for this like manufacturer's error or a growth spurt on one one side of my body, but I had a strong suspicion it had something to do with the city's water supply and how some people believe that adding fluoride is a communist plot but no one can ever explain what the end goal of the plot is because if fluoride makes it so that all Americans have one arm shorter than the other then the athletes who push the four-man bobsled would seem to have an advantage and why would the Russians want to do that?

Daily Ambivalence - when it rains it pours

That is such a catchy, ubiquitous saying that I'm trying to come up with a saying of my own that will live forever.

Now this is just the draft stage so don't hate me. They'll get better.

Ahem.

When it burns it destroys the skin through the dermis and possibly into underlying tissue.

or 

When you fail people think less of you and you are one step closer to homelessness.

or 

Teach a boy to fish and he will play video games or watch YouTube videos just like his friends who don't fish.

or 

An apple a day isn't anywhere near as good as a Butterfinger and Heath shake, or breadsticks dipped in utlra-buttery Alfredo sauce, or claim chowder made with two quarts of heavy cream, or kettle chips and shrimp dip, but apples can still be good if you dip them in caramel then white chocolate then brown sugar.

That last one might be a little long.

But look for one of these or all of them to become a new catch phrase in the 21st century.

When it rains it pours . . . eh.

Daily Ambivalence - I wonder what happened the first time somebody said abracadabra

Were they surprised?

I mean, if they made their little brother disappear, sure, but did they get in trouble? If so, I think some of the blame needs to go to the parents. What were they doing with a stand-alone closet in the middle of the room in the first place? That doesn't make any sense.

But magic itself doesn't make sense. That's the whole point.

You get on a plane, for instance, and it takes off. It doesn't flaps its wings or anything but the next thing you know you're arriving at your destination. Boom. Magic.

I guess in a roundabout way that explains why magicians pull rabbits out of their hats and not bags of potting soil.

I wonder what happened the first time somebody said abracadabra . . . eh.

Daily Ambivalence - I want my headstone to look like an actual head

Now don't you go thinking I'm all into myself. I don't want the head to look like me.

I was thinking Morgan Freeman.

And it would also be cool if they installed those freaky eyes that seem to follow you wherever you stand.

And then maybe Morgan Freeman could record some stuff that played in a loop so that people visiting my grave thought the head was talking to them.

Not a narration of events from my life, you understand, not even famous or inspirational quotes. I was thinking maybe episodes of 24, from season 5. Sure there would be copyright problems but screw them. I'd be dead. And it's Morgan Freeman. Hello?

I want my headstone to look like an actual head . . . eh.

Daily Ambivalence - my backpack has a secret compartment

I didn't know it until just a moment ago but my backpack has a secret compartment.

And you know, that gives me a brilliant idea. I'm going to play a trick on myself. I've got such a poor memory that I'm pretty sure I'll forget about this secret compartment, and so I'm going to create a time capsule and I'm going to say that in the year 2015 I was a secret agent and King of Saskatchewan all at the same time and won't I be surprised when I . . .

Oh wait, there's already a time capsule in the secret compartment. It says that back in 2006 I was a secret agent and King of Saskatchewan all at the same time.

Dude, I totally wish I could remember that. I was the bomb back in 2006!

My backpack has a secret compartment . . . eh.

That dream about chocolate chip cookies

There was that dream about my chocolate chip cookie recipe and the whole cover up at Sesame Street where it was actually Elmo who always needs a cookie fix and Cookie Monster was just trying to help his friend but then the whole thing spun out of control and Cookie Monster was stuck in his role and his real name isn't actually Cookie Monster but Roderick Alphonse and if you watch closely Roderick never actually eats the cookies on screen because he has a problem with gluten.

Daily Ambivalence - a Nestle Butterfinger will soon have fewer ingredients

I write these words with a measure of trepidation.

If you've never been to my house then I probably haven't shown you my shrine dedicated to the excellence that is the Butterfinger candy bar.

Chocolate - yes.

Peanuts - yes.

Both fantastic things, but a host of other candy bars can lay claim to the same chocolate and nuts boast. I've always thought it was the addition of Red 40 that made the Butterfinger that much better than its cousins. Not the Yellow 5 because, well, 40 is more than 5. That's just simple math.

It could also be the almost-an-afterthought addition of lactic acid esters that makes Butterfinger a "Holy %^#$@! What did I just put in my mouth?" kind of candy bar. Genius move whoever thought of that.

This might all fade into the past, sadly. I saw an article claiming that Nestle has vowed to go natural, as in, stop using products that are identified with just a color and a number. It's madness.

What am I going to do with my shrine?

Maybe my wife can have her sewing room back.

A Nestle Butterfinger will soon have fewer ingredients . . . eh.

Daily Ambivalence - I signed up for a free trip to Hawaii and now I'm getting tons of spam

Actually, the fact fact that I'm getting spam is kind of a good thing because it got me out of that prison in Juarez, which on a side note is a totally hilarious story and I'll have to tell it some time, at least after the statute of limitations runs out and that old woman in the black dress gives me her recipe for tamales wrapped in banana leaves smothered in Oaxacan mole that she promised.

Back to Hawaii though. Here I am wiggling my toes on Wai'anapanapa beach and I'm checking email on my phone and I'm totally sick of deleting male enhancement emails.

Great, I'm almost fifty and someone's sending me, like, seventy of those emails. That's just mean.

I signed up for a free trip to Hawaii and now I'm getting tons of spam . . . eh.

Daily Ambivalence - I wish that guy and girl would stop whispering

Ok, I freely admit that starting the bar fight here in Juarez was a bad idea. Those guys at the corner table got the wrong impression about me hating all Mexicans. That's not the case at all. What I said is that I thought their friend looked a lot like Anthony Quinn in the movie The Magnificent Matador, and I really do hate that movie.

Hating all Mexicans? Completely different. I totally don't hate Mexicans. It's offensive to me that they even thought that.

Not that it matters now.

I'm standing in line behind the jail waiting for the firing squad and the funny thing is that I'm not bothered by the intermittent sound of gunfire around the corner as we shuffle forward one at a time, or the bodies being carted past us on stretchers, but that guy and girl in the crowd that keep whispering to each other. It's really annoying. Are we boring them?

I'm thinking about starting another fight.

I wish that guy and girl would stop whispering . . . eh.

Daily Ambivalence - that guy in the hospital said he is afraid of dying alone

He didn't actually look like he was going to die soon, so I told him I'd come back and check on him in a few weeks. And I totally will.

Dying wishes are one of those things you shouldn't ignore. If I was making a dying wish right now though, I don't think I'd ask to not die alone. In my opinion you've got to be more specific, at least when you're making dying wishes.

Me, for instance, I'd ask to go to Disneyland and then I'd try to die on the It's a Small World After All ride. Then, even if I was alone, I'd be surrounded by all those moving dolls singing the same song over and over.

That'd be cool.

That guy in the hospital said he is afraid of dying alone . . . eh.