Reading Is Fun

I just recently completed my first full-fledged attempt at a novel. If you've previously read and enjoyed my Golden Boys stories, you'll love this. I took the four characters from my Golden Boys stories and put them in a murder mystery plot, but with their same idiotic behavior. Does anyone know someone in the publishing industry or who is a literary agent? I have very little idea of how to get this thing from my hands to becoming a full-fledged on your bookstore shelves novel. Any leads you have would certainly be appreciated. Feel free to e-mail me with suggestions if you have any.

I Had A Dream...

A few days a ago I had a dream that I shaved off my goatee. Then yesterday someone said to me, "You ought to shave that off. You'd look ten years younger." Is the universe conspiring to tell me to shave off my goatee? Should I listen to it? Also, some of my long time blog friends might remember a post I did a year ago about vanity plates that was sparked by seeing a plate that said, "Dali Lama." Yesterday after I was told I should shave off my goatee I walked out of the office and into my parking lot, and what car was parked there? Yup. The Dali Lama car. Is it just me, or are those two coincidences happening that close together weird? Is the universe telling me something? Should I shave off my goatee?

"You're a Hottie"

So I was on my way to a dentist appointment. I got out of my car in the busy parking lot of a medical complex that contained several small buildings housing a variety of doctors offices. As I began to cross the lot a van slowed down and the drivers side window was descending. I assumed it was just someone stopping to ask what building a particular doctor was in. The van slowed as it approached me and I slowed my walk, preparing to give helpful directions because that's just the kind of good samaritan I am. The window rolled all the way down and I saw that the driver appeared to be a woman of about 50 maybe. I make eye contact, thinking I'm about to field a question for directions. She looks me straight in the eye and says, "You're a hottie." So I ask for her phone number and after my appointment we went to her house and made mad monkey love on the dining room floor. No! Are you kidding?!!? That was gross! She then drove off without another word. I'm not sure why, but I immediately felt queasy. I suppose this is how very young women feel when some creepy old guy hits on them. Although she is obviously an incredibly bright and perceptive woman, it still creeped me out. Normally, from someone younger I'd accept the compliment and it might put a smile on my face for the rest of the day. I definitely didn't smile as I walked away as quickly as I could. If she thought I was a hottie then though, she should have seen me after I got my teeth cleaned. Now we're talkin' hot! And no, there were not any psychiatric offices in that office complex.

GPS= Giant Pain in my asS

For my new job I do quite a bit of driving around, so I purchased a GPS device for my car. We've all see the commercials where the guy professes his love for his GPS before regaining his senses, realizing that it is just a mechanical device. That won't be my problem. I often do talk to my GPS as it's talking to me, but we're usually arguing. I even switched the voice to that of a British woman, hoping that the accent would make it seem like much less of a nag. It doesn't. Here are a few sample conversations between me and my GPS:

GPS: In two tenths of a mile turn right.............in one tenth of a mile turn right........in 200 feet turn right....
Phil: I know, I'm turning right!
GPS: Turn right
Phil: Shut up! I'm already turning. Leave me alone!

Or another example is when we disagree on directions. For instance yesterday I asked it directions to a specific restaurant and it wanted me to get on a toll road for something like a quarter mile.

GPS: Take ramp on left in 200 feet.
Phil: No. I'm not going to pay a toll just to go a half mile.
GPS: Take ramp on left
Phil: No. I'm not going to. I can see the restaurant from here.
GPS: As soon as possible make a U-turn.
Phil: No, I'm not going to go on the ramp. SHUT UP! I can see the restaurant.
GPS: Recalculating. Travel two tenths of a mile to destination on right.
Phil: See? I told you!

Perhaps my terse demeanor is why my GPS sometimes gives me wrong directions and possibly tries to get me killed. It often has no regard for my safety when it directs me through crime infested, gang run neighborhoods, or down streets that are closed for construction. I think it's out to get me. At some point I imagine myself pulling the thing off the dash and flinging it out onto the highway as I'm traveling at a very high rate of speed, laughing maniacally as it tumbles to it's tiny electronic death still babbling at me. If I'm ever stranded on a desert island I'm sure as hell not taking my GPS with me to keep me company. To quote the great philosopher, me, technology is the opiate of the asses.

More Desert Island

Yeah, I know this is a cop out, but who doesn't love to play desert island? Ok, here's the next one: Rest of your life you're stuck on a desert island with your favorite beverage and one movie. What movie do you choose and why? You can only pick one. No say, 'yeah, but I also considered this." Pick one without any qualifications.

I go with The Princess Bride. It's completely silly and funny and has a lot of those lines that are funny no matter how many times you hear them or how many times you and your friends do them back and forth with each other. If I'm stuck on a desert island I want to be able to laugh on a regular basis. Of course I'd be seriously pissed if my DVD player broke and I couldn't watch my one movie.