E-Male

They say 'everybody has a novel inside them', well that's crap in my case because I have loads inside me! I've started writing half a dozen, got bored, then moved on to the next one. That's why I like writing short stories, sit down for an afternoon and it's done. Not that any of these are any good it's just something I enjoy to do and find it therapeutic. I did send a few off to women's magazines with the hope of making a few quid but apart from the 'filth' they all got returned! DJ enjoys reading them so that's good enough for me.

Anyway, back to the novel! About four years ago I started writing a story with hopes of grandeur. It was going to be a bestseller and made into a film, I had even decided who was going to play the leads in Hollywood. Anyway this story has come out of my drawer at irregular intervals every since and it's still no nearer becoming a Blockbuster. I really can't get up any enthusiasm to finish it, I think this may be because all the time it's not finished I can daydream about it being a success but when it's done the bubble will burst! DJ keeps trying to get me to finish it as I know the ending and won't spill the beans. I think this is probably a bit selfish of me as she has read the 30,000 odd words I have written and has been left in limbo.

'Is there a point to this blog?' I hear you ask. Well yes actually there is DJ suggested start another blog and post a chapter a week of my story to give me the impetus to get it finished. If you fancy a read you can find it here E-Male and I'll post every Monday.

Finally; if Hugh Grant and Reese Witherspoon still read my blog make sure to keep your diary's free for the end of next year because I might be giving you a call!!

Night!

This is me if I was a book apparently! I do take exception to the short bit as I am well over 6 foot! Can't disagree much about the other bits though!

You're Night!

by Elie Wiesel

You've had some truly horrific experiences, especially recently, and
you can barely stand to discuss them. While many people are afraid of getting close to
you because of this, it has also built a fascination and admiration of you that is hard
to rival. You know that things are about to get better soon, but that the trauma will be
impossible to forget. You are short, but powerful.


Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

My First Baby!

I received a quiz from my Mother-in-law the other day and duly filled it in and returned it. I thought maybe some of you would like a go so have added to the end of this post. I left my answers in just in case you're interested.

MY FIRST BABY

Here you go mommies - a different kind of survey for a change - it's all about your first born! (Daddies can do it too)

1. Were you married at the time? No.

2. What were your reactions? Freaked.

3. How old were you? 26

4. How did you find out you were pregnant? I think it was a stork!

5. Who did you tell first? No idea!

6. Did you want to find out the sex? No, we already had the sex this was the by-product!

7. Due date? Yes there was bound to be one!

8.Did you deliver early or late? Exactly on the date! I am a postman after all!

9. Did you have morning sickness? No but for every day since!

10. What did you crave? Beer.

11. Who irritated you the most? Everybody.

12. What was your first child's sex? A fumble in the bike shed I think?

13. How many pounds did you gain throughout the pregnancy? Nothing, I spent a bloody fortune!

14. Did you have any complications during your pregnancy? Sleeping with a fat fidget?

15.Where did you give birth? At the hospital!

16. How many hours were you in labor? I only voted labour ( you missed the u) once!

17.Who drove you to the hospital? Someone should have driven me?

18.Who watched? It wasn't the Discovery Channel you know!

19.Was it natural or c-section? It all seemed very un-natural so must have been a c-section?

20.Did you take medicine to ease the pain? No! I was numb from the alcohol

21.How much did your child weigh? What? Pik and Mix at Woolworths?

22.Did your child have any complications? Crying, shitting and puking!

23.What did you name him/her? You had a him/her?

24. How old is your first born today? 17

25. Where does he/she live? In the bedroom!

26.Does he/she have children? Fuck, I hope not!

As you can see I don't really remember much about this traumatic time!!

Saturday Morning!

The last post I wrote (which seemed so popular) was the dream I had the previous night. It ended when I woke in a cold sweat not sure if I had an hour to live, it was that real!
On a lighter note; I was out delivering early today and had to knock the door of one of my first drops with a parcel. It was about 7:10 when I lent on the doorbell and not expecting an answer I went next door and delivered their mail. When I got back the door was opened by an elderly, sleepy looking man in his pyjamas. It was then I realized the doorbell was stuck on and had been ‘ding-donging’ for the best part of two minutes. The old boy looked at me, looked at the parcel, looked at the doorbell, ran his fingers through his hair then let out the loudest fart I’ve ever heard!
I handed him his mail and the parcel at the same time trying not to laugh while apologizing. I left him shaking his head and poking his bell (not a good look) and went on my way with a spring in my step. Being easily pleased things like this make getting out of bed worthwhile!

Nightmare!

He opened his eyes and felt a shudder coarse through the whole of his body. None of this made sense! The building was cavernous but felt claustrophobic, the air was warm but he felt an icy chill in his bones and, probably most importantly, he didn’t want to be there though he knew it was where he was supposed to be.
He looked around, that was a feat in itself. The room was as dark as night but he could see, his eyes being able to penetrate the blackness. It was as if he was wearing a miner’s helmet with the light on the top piercing the dark. He felt his head, as if to check for the helmet, there was none, but he already knew that.
He was standing in aisle of what appeared, at first glance to be a warehouse, in between two rows of racking. The racking was built out of a thick angle-iron and was battleship grey. Its shelves looked like they were made from scaffold boards neatly buffered together. The shelves were so deep he couldn’t see the back and went so high he couldn’t see the top and, they were empty. The floor was hard and cold. He knew it was black marble even though he couldn’t see it. He couldn’t see his feet either they were covered in what appeared to be a rolling mist. It reminded him of dry ice at a Motorhead concert only this was a dirty grey and felt heavy on his toes.
He reached out to touch the shelves and although they we close he couldn’t reach them. He walked towards them but they got no closer, he didn’t know why he’d bothered because he already knew this as well.
He shuddered again! He didn’t know why or how he knew all this stuff, he just did. Also, he wasn’t alone!
There were people shuffling past him all the time searching for a way out but resigned to the fact there was none. They were all different; young and old, male and female, black and white but all with one common denominator, a black sack. Well that’s what it looked like, a black sack tied with a thick rope thrown over their shoulder and dragged behind them as they moved along. He knew it wasn’t a black sack and he knew what it was though he tried not to think about it. He wouldn’t even look behind him to see if his was there, he knew it was.
Something appeared out of the darkness and stopped next to a shuffling figure. He couldn’t describe it! He could look at it, stare into its eyes, but couldn’t remember a thing about it when he looked away. It had with it a box. The box was transparent but he never looked in it, he was transfixed on the rainbow of colored lights flashing around the top. It spoke to the person who nodded then stepped slowly into the box. As they did so they left behind the ‘black sack’ which in turn dispersed into the misty floor.
He watched as it approached other people who in turn nodded stepped into the box leaving behind their ‘black sacks’. Then it approached him, inviting him to enter the box, he shook his head, it nodded and walked away towards the next person. He let out a sigh of relief but soon it was back inviting him again.
“No thanks!” he said.
It looked at him and shook its head.
“You’re wasting time; you need to get into the box.”
“What time?” he asked already knowing the answer.
“You have an hour to say your goodbyes and now you are wasting time, your time.” It said with no emotion.
“You aren’t death! Death has a cloak and a scythe but you…….” He didn’t finish his sentence because in his heart he knew and started to step into the box.

Make Friends and Influence People!

I thought after the serious post last time I better lighten the mood a bit! You think he might be regretting something about now?

PS: Kahless gave Ivana an award you can see it here

The Meaning of Life?!

You hear phrases like: everything happens for a reason, what will be will be and for every action there is a reaction. So, if you do something are you responsible for what happens to others?


e.g. Every morning when I drive to work I get to the bottom of my road, turn right and head on over the hill. If on Monday instead of turning right I turn left and use a different route and there is a crash on the bridge. A five car pile up, the third car is where my car would have been if I'd taken my usual route. The car is crushed and the driver is dead! Is that my fault? Am I responsible for his death and the repercussions for his family or would it have happened anyway? Karma?

I'm not trying to get heavy or anything like that it's just been playing on my mind a lot lately. Is our influence on our children that important? Do they turn out the way they do because of what we instill in them or would they turn out that way anyway because, I don't know, because they would? We have two teenagers who have been brought up exactly the same but they and their outlook on life are completely different, why? Shouldn't they be both the same? It screws with my brain!

I heard somewhere someone say "We are not responsible for our kids we are responsible to them." I guess this to mean that we have a responsibility to clothe them, feed them , school them, teach them right from wrong and set them out on the right road but we are not responsible for how they interpret this and the path they take!

I never listened to my step-father and would do the opposite to whatever he said, black would be white as far as he was concerned. Looking back whatever he told me was usually right, he'd probably been there and done it, but would I have turned out the way I have if I had done everything he told me without finding things out for myself often the hard way?

Perhaps we aren't supposed to know the answers to these questions but I'm happy for any hints! By the way next week will be, "How long is a piece of string?"