This week’s internet hygiene tip for smart boys and girls of all ages: be sure to practice safe Googling.
I received this email from my publisher’s publicity assistant:
Great news! People can now pre-order The Mighty Quinn. Here are the links: Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Mighty-Quinn-Robyn-Parnell/dp/1938063104/ref=sr_1_20?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1350928793&sr=1-20&keywords=the+mighty+quinn
Barnes and Noble (the cover image should be up soon): http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-mighty-quinn-robyn-parnell/1112095494?ean=9781938063107
And another interesting piece of news to go along with this is that evidently there is an erotic novel series called The Mighty Quinns… And so when you search “The Mighty Quinn” on Amazon or B&N, your book gets lodged right in the middle of some saucy covers. Not the most ideal placement, but perhaps we’ll just suggest people search your name instead.
Where is a deep, protracted, “Oh, myyyyyyyyy” when I need it? Oh, yeah, right here.
But of course, I had to do my search and check out the source of those alleged saucy covers. I found Harlequin Blaze a certain publishing imprint, which describes itself thusly:
You like it hot! (Our) stories sizzle with strong, sexy heroines and irresistible heroes playing the game of modern love and lust.
They’re fun, flirty and always steamy.
Ah, as in, Lifetime Channel aficionado core porn? Excuse me for using the p-word; the genre prefers to call itself Erotic Romance, or Romantica. And, indeed, the series cover “art” features various square-jawed, pectorally-enhanced men, most of whom seem to be battling (but not too successfully) the genre-specific, shirt-be-gone malady.
The idea that a searcher for my book may encounter (from The Mighty Quinns: Marcus):
Boat restorer Marcus Quinn is not going to sleep with the infamous Eden Ross he tries his best to ignore her topless sunbathing and blatant teasing. But when that fails, what else can he do but give her exactly what she’s asking for–frenzied, brain-numbing sex?
is reason enough to send me into frenzied, brain-numbing my Happy Things file, and confer a Pretty Purple Toe to…well, to me. And to The Mighty Quinn. Singular, please.
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Whaddya mean, there’s nothing to celebrate this weekend?
Notable birthdays on October 26 include
– Leon Trotsky, Russian revolutionary and founder of the Red Army, 1879
– Mahalia Jackson, “The Queen of Gospel” singer and civil rights activist, 1911
– Felix the Cat (the wonderful, wonderful cat), 1917
– Wheel of Fortune host and Vanna White’s drinking buddy, Pat Sajak, 1946
– Hilary Clinton, Secretary of State and world-renowned texting-maniac, 1947
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Smarter People Than Us Said This
– The truth will set you free. But first, it will piss you off. (Gloria Steinem)
– If 50 million people believe a foolish thing, it is still a foolish thing. (Anatole France)
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It’s been quite the week, both personally and politically, and no rallies for wisdom or reason or common sense in sight. One of the few things I find more relaxing and sanity-restoring than doing Tai Chi, reading a good book or contemplating the diverse criteria for categorizing farts is the bestowing of the Asshat of the Week award.
So many worthy recipients come to mind. Nominees include:
-The conservative/Republican/fundie/non-uterus bearing Indiana senate candidate who attempted to justify his grievously mistaken notion that what goes on in a woman’s uterus is any of his bid-ness by proclaiming that even a pregnancy resulting from rape is something his god “intended.”
-Perennial Lady Asshat Sarah Palin, who was mysteriously silent on fellow wingnut whackadoodle conservative pundit Anne Coulter’s use of the word “retard” to refer to President Obama , despite the fact that when then White House chief of staff Rahm Emanuel used the term, Palin wasted no time in seizing the spotlight, and called for Emmanual to be fired.
About the r-word. After Anne Coulter’s spew, a mutual friend of MH and moi posted a FB link to an article that addressed how most people still don’t get the gum-flapping about using “retarded’ as an insult. That night MH and I had a rumination-worthy dinner conversation about the subject. In that calm, trying-to-appreciate-the-issue way of his, MH dared to postulate that people (in particular the teens, including our own, we’ve heard rib friends about having, say, a “retard” idea) never envision an actual, mentally retarded or developmentally disabled person when they use the word to tease a friend. MH rhetorically wondered/wanted to understand why other people find it hurtful, or claim insult for another person or category of persons, when the word is not directed at them.
Earlier that day I’d read a commentary about the incident on a British newspaper’s website. The article began “… it should come as no surprise to anyone that Coulter used terms that were idiotic and offensive.” Well, now, I said to moiself. I’d bet that many people, even those who decry using retarded as an epithet, would not hesitate to declare that a politician who preaches about divinely intended rape pregnancies is an idiot, and his ideas moronic. And they’d likely do so with nary a thought as to the origins of the labels.
Perhaps, MH speculated, it is just too recent in history that retarded was both a medical description and an insult, but idiot and moron have been out of the medical lingo long enough not to ruffle feathers in the same way.
Yet again, I digress. The business at hand:
I’d read the excerpts in online newsmags about a certain cartoonist blogging his endorsement of a certain presidential candidate. Surely, they must be wrong, I thought. Had to go to the source to discover that no, Toon Guy wasn’t quoted out of context. And the context, yikes.
In a recent blog post Scott Adams spends a good deal of time enumerating President Obama’s failure on what seems to be the key issue for Scott Adams.
We grapple with increasing world population growth and climatologically induced natural disasters and extricating ourselves from ill-planned wars and a possible nuclear Iran and the continual rumblings of other conflicts in the Mideast and around the world and a tenuous economic recovery and the burgeoning social, cultural, political and economic divide both abroad and here at home…and the deciding factor for Adams? The Obama administration’s upholding and enforcement of existing Federal laws governing medical marijuana dispensaries.
“So while I don’t agree with Romney’s positions on most topics, I’m endorsing him for president starting today.”
Uh….yeah. Because nothing says rational decision-making like voting for someone you think is wrong about most topics.
And so, with a lusty, pungent inhale, asshat bong-head of the week goes to Scott Adams.
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With all the hoopla-doodle-doodery as Armageddon the election approaches, I yearn for a combination sanity/humor break. Has it really been two years since the The Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear took place at the National Mall in D.C.?
The rally, as those of you who were sober may remember, was co-led by The Daily Show host Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert (who stayed in-character as his Colbert Report conservative political gasbag analyst). The purpose of the rally, besides being a send-up of a certain, prevaricating talk-radio show host’s ironically titled “Restoring Honor ” rally, was to have some fun promoting the idea of civil, reasonable social and political discourse — you know, the kind of dialog favored by most intelligent, thoughtful, good-natured folk, in contrast to the fear-mongering and irrational shrillness of the more vocal and extreme political voices which manage to dominate the news.
After the rally I remember spending more than a few I-should-be-working hours minutes perusing the online photo collections of people who’d attended or covered TRTRSAOF. Revisiting the list of homemade signs carried by (and/or t-shirts worn by) the rally attendees still brings a smile to my cynical heart, and will do the same, I hope, to yours. It is in that spirit I share some of my favorites:
Use your inside voice
I Disagree With You But I’m Pretty Sure You’re Not Hitler
Make Awkward Sexual Advances, Not War
I scare Juan Williams at Airports (sign carried by a Muslim woman)
ALL CAPITAL LETTERS MEANS I’M SERIOUS
Down With Zippers
I Masturbate And I Vote (But Not Usually At The Same Time)
Facts Are Like Opinions Except They’re True
Reality Has A Well-Known Liberal Bias
We Disagree But I Still Understand I Mustn’t Stomp Your Head
What Exactly Is In That Tea you’re Drinking?
THREE WORD SLOGAN! THREE WORD SLOGAN!
I Want My Country Forward
I Fought Nazis And They Don’t Look Like Obama (sign carried by an elderly man)
If You Keep Shouting Like That You’ll Get Big Muscles All Over Your Face
Confused Senior Citizens For Sanity
Christine O’Donnell Turned Me Into A Newt!
I hate taxes. But I like: roads, firemen, some cops, traffic lights (except red ones), national parks, the coast guard, etc. so I pay them anyway. Oh yeah, I hate war too.
More Beer Nuts, Less Paranoid Nuts
…and take it off CAPSLOCK
The Mad Hatter called. He wants his tea party back
WTF, I thought I voted for a Muslim?!
I like tea and you’re kind of ruining it
Don’t be a douche
Even my sign chooses not to yell
Obama is not the devil, I am
(carried by a woman wearing a devil costume)
I like my beer cold, my TV loud, and my homosexuals flaming
I want more tortillas when I order fajitas at a restaurant
Is this the line for Justin Bieber tickets?
Eggs are white. Obama isn’t. Breakfast is RUINED.
Stop Americans from stealing our jobs
100% randomly searched at the following airports
(t-shirt with picture map of us with all major airports highlighted, worn my man with cobalt blue turban and long curly beard)
Bacon is good for me
The sign is too damn BIG
We should do this more often
My arms are tired
404 error political message not found
(Sign attached to a beagle puppy’s collar): I am not afraid of Muslims, tea partiers, socialists, immigrants, gun-owners, gays…but I am kind of scared of LARGE BIRDS
Am I acting suspicious? (sign carried by a man wearing a Sikh turban)
Lions and tigers and Muslims, oh my
I am pretty sure that god hates us all equally
I already regret choosing to carry around a sign all day
I’m mad as hell but mostly in a passive aggressive way
End Glee theme nights
I see smart people
My name causes national security alerts. What does yours do?
(shirt worn by Muslim teenager)
When I think about Christine O’Donnell I touch myself
God hates TimesNewRoman
I am the next generation responsible for you in your old age – FEAR ME!
(sign held by toddler sitting atop his dad’s shoulders)
I left my hyperbole at home
The rent is too damn high
Somewhat irritated about extreme outrage
Does this shirt make me look Muslim?
If you’re not using your braaainnzzzzz can I eat ‘em? Please?
(shirt worn by zombie)
I shaved my balls for this?
Ironically, this rally is insane.
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Thanks for stopping by. Au Vendredi!
 Alone, or in a suggestive embrace with a lissome crotch clutcher
 French poet, novelist, journalist, Nobel Prize Winner, and all-around quotable dude
 Screamers: High-pitched, tight-sphincter offerings, often of astonishing duration and tonal variations.
 What is it about religion that compounds political stoopidity? Never mind; I already know.
 Sounds like a pop star moniker, doesn’t it?
 Okay, Sarah Palin remaining silent on any issue, for any reason, should be a cause for unilateral rejoicing
 However, Coulter really was directing the “retarded” at developmentally disabled voters
 The scale has been revised several times since its inception, with moron, imbecile and idiot replaced with words deemed more descriptive of a scale of intellectual deficiency, such as Beck, Coulter and Limbaugh.
 Dilbert comic strip creator and infamous internet sock puppet, who seems to enjoy nothing better than (a) to warn readers of his blog that they are going to misunderstand what they read and (b) issue condescending apologies for confusing readers with his cogent blathering proclamations. Because, you know, people are too obtuse to appreciate his genius.
 Why is it always the lying, slandering, chickenhawk Glenn Becks of the world who loudly squawk about “honor”?
 I think Stewart in fact denied that particular motivation for the rally. But, really.
 Actually, that was a chant, not a sign