Friday, January 30, 2009

Antonio: 0; Ninjas: 1

Awwww. It's the end of Ninja Appreciation Week already? And I was just starting to have fun.

This whole thing makes me think of one of my favorite ninja stories. Slayer, fabulous hubby of mine, is a ninja. And one day, he had all of his ninjish students over to make these cool things called mitsubishi.

I'm not talking cars here, people. You could write what I know about cars on a postage stamp and have space left over. No, mitsubishi are really cool ninja things. You take eggs and blow all the goop out, and then you fill the shells with flour (if you're nice) or metal shavings (if you're not). Then, when you're in the middle of a fight, you can break them on people's faces.

Which is pretty much the ninja idea of fun right there.

So Slayer and his ninjish students were at our apartment blowing eggs when the phone rang. And when I picked it up, a guy said, "Hello, Carrie. It's Antonio Banderas."

Because of course hot Spaniards call me all the time. They can resist my snarfishness.

I figured it was one of my friends, because that's the kind of thing my friends would do. So I answered in an equally exaggerated Spanish accent: "Hello, Antonio. I've missed you so much." And we started this silly, playful conversation. The whole time I'm trying to figure out who the heck it is. I'm guessing, and he's laughing harder and harder.

And that's when I realized that I don't know him.

He wouldn't get off the phone. I told him that I have a boyfriend and was not interested in a relationship with a semi-stalker semi-Banderas. He didn't care. So I hung up the phone. And then I spit at it. OOOooooo. I'm so tough.

He called again. Twice in a row, even, because I am that irresistible. So I took the ringing phone out to the living room full of ninjas and explained to them what was happening. Slayer took the phone and into the other room to let Antonio know in no uncertain terms that I was his ninja babe. And that's when the ninjish students stood up, eggs in hand, and offered to protect me.

I would have liked to see Antonio Banderas get the crap egged out of him by a bunch of ninjas. I would pay good money to see that.

He never called again, though.

Thursday, January 29, 2009

Ninja Love

Ninjas deserve kickass a theme song, so I wrote one. Only I still had “Jungle Love” stuck in my head. It could be worse. I could have written one to the tune of “I love you, you love me,” from Barney.

Anyway, here’s the original song, just so you can appreciate its inherent ninjaness. Warning, there’s some adult language in this clip, so please don’t watch with your mininjas.

And here are the words to the new ninja theme song: NINJA LOVE.

I… I’ve been watching you
I think I wanna throw ya (Throw ya)
I… I am dangerous
Girl I want your henka (Henka)

My ninja love (gogyo gogyo go)
I think I wanna throw ya (Throw ya)
Ninja love (gogyo gogyo go)
Girl I want your henka (Henka)

You… you’ve got a pretty sword
I think I wanna hone it (Hone it)
I… do things a little dangerous
Get into a fight with a hundred guys
Huh… (Ninja love) Look out!

Oh (gogyo gogyo go)
I think I wanna throw ya (Throw ya)
Ninja love (gogyo gogyo go)
Girl I want your henka (Henka)

Come on baby, where’s your do?
You wanna fight me or what?

(Gogyo gogyo go)

I… wanna take you to my dojo.
Lock you up and take your cowl.
(Gogyo gogyo go)
You… will have to take me down
I wanna see you kick me in the mata.
(Gogyo gogyo go)

My ninja love (gogyo gogyo go)
I think I wanna throw ya (Throw ya)
Ninja love (gogyo gogyo go)
Girl I got henka (Henka)

Hey Sensei! Now Kunoichi! YES.

And now it’s time for your ninja terminology for the day

Henka: Variations on a single technique.
Gogyo: A series of techniques based on the five elements.
Do: Pronounced more like DOH and less like DO. It has a lot of meanings, but the one that seems to fit best in the song is movement or motion.
Mata: Crotch.
Kunoichi: Female ninja.

Yeah, kunoichi rock the casbah. We even get to wear cute purple gis with red belts, because we like to look nice while kicking your butt twenty different ways. I use the term "we" lightly, because I haven't trained in a long time and am proud that I remember how to fall down.

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Things That Make Me Snarf - Ninja Auditions

Most people don't have what it takes to be a ninja. Don't believe me? Apparently, these dodos auditioned for a part as a ninja in a commercial or something.

My favorite is the "What kind of wood is this?" guy. Listen, dude. Whatever kind it is, it's stronger than you.

All of this made me think. I'm always talking about vampires, werewolves, and zombies in Hollywood. But what about the ninjas? I'm short on the ninja love (oh ee oh ee oh... I think I wanna know ya!).

Sorry. I just flashed back to that song by Morris Day and the Time.

So, without further ado, I give you five Hollywood ninjas that would make me snarf. And not always in a good way.

1. Richard Simmons. Because Sweating to the Oldies Ninjastyle is pure genius. "Ninjas, you are FAAAAT!"

2. Paris Hilton. Because ninjas are HOT. That, and I wouldn't mind seeing her get beaten up.

3. Carrot Top. Can you imagine catching him in your house and ripping his cowl off?

4. Zom Cruise. Forget the lawn flamingos. He'd be the ninja with a couch fetish.

5. Christopher Walken. Because really, I think he should be in EVERYTHING. Every movie needs a Walken cameo. Walken as Scarlett O'Hara. Walken as ET. Walken as the ninja.

I like Walken almost as much as I like ninjas. Maybe I'll send him some of my spare socks.

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

The Ninja Appreciation Points Program

Alright. Now you've learned a little about how to appreciate your local ninjas, although if you're like Jamie you may have to do this from the grave. But why do ninjas deserve our love and attention? Why should you appreciate them?

Other than the fact that if you piss them off, they might leap out of your closet and impale you at any moment, of course.

Ninjas keep you safe. They patrol your house at night to make sure that the bad guys don't steal your collectible cards, jeweled headdresses, or gold teeth. They stand by your bed when you're sick and stroke your hair soothingly with their black gloved hands. They walk your dog at night so he doesn't piddle on the carpet. And yes, they occasionally steal a sock or two, but really, which would you rather have? Piddle on your carpet or a missing sock every once in a while?

It's true: the missing sock phenomenon has nothing to do with the dryer and everything to do with ninjas. They tie the socks into makeshift nunchuku and let the little ninjas practice with them. There's nothing cuter than a bunch of mininjas whacking each other with socks.

Besides, if you are nice to your friendly neighborhood ninjas, you'll earn plenty of Ninja Appreciation Points (NAPs), which you can redeem for valuable prizes, like a Get Out of a Headlock Free Card or the very popular Break Into Disneyland with a Ninja and Ride Everything For Free.

Would you like to have your very own Fraternal Order of Ninja Sticker for your bumper? It's the best way to avoid being pulled over by street ninja. Here are some ideas on how to gain (and lose) NAPs:

Donate bag of spare socks to local dojo: +5 NAPs
Forget to wash socks first: -3 NAPs
Socks are printed with cutesy little samurai on them: -10 NAPs

Sharpen ninja's sword for him when his back is turned: +10 NAPs
Test the sharpness on his back hair: -10 NAPs
Test the sharpness on his lawn flamingo: -20 NAPs

Throw a surprise party for your favorite ninja: +5 NAPs
The party games don't involve throwing pointy things at each other: -2 NAPs
The theme of the party is the Teletubbies: -20 NAPs

Monday, January 26, 2009

Ninja Appreciation Week

I'm here now in large part due to the generosity of Scillius Maximus. He took pity on my computerless state and loaned me an old laptop. This means, of course, that I've got to promote him yet again, and I thought long and hard about this. The name had to stick with that Latin vibe. It had to fully communicate my gratitude for the computer loan and for setting up an account for me under the name "Writing Goddess." It had to rock the casbah. So, without further ado, I hereby promote Scillius Maximus to:

Scillius Maximus the Great (fo shizzle)

It's a new dialect. I call it Ebonicus.

And it occurs to me that I never ran Ninja Appreciation Week here at The Wonder That Is My Blog. Scillius Maximus the Great (fo shizzle) is a ninja. Slayer is one. My personal trainer is one. Tiny T is one. I'm surrounded by ninjas. Really, you could be surrounded by them right now and not even know it. I'm not trying to make you paranoid, just making a comment based on personal experience.

So it's time to show the ninjas in your life how much you care, and since I've got a lot of ninja-related experience, I thought I'd give you a few tips.

Do a good deed for a ninja this week. Of course, that will necessitate finding the ninjas first. Dress all in black and go outside. Yell "Free shuriken to the first fifty ninja!" or "Quick! Come look! The Teletubbies are committing seppuku!" (Seppuku is that whole ritual disemboweling of one's self with a sword thing.) When the ninjas show up, stick tracking beacons on them. Then run very fast, because ninjas don't like to be tricked, even if it is with the intent of doing them a good deed later. If you can turn invisible or morph into a cloud of gnats or something, that would be a good idea. If not, paint yourself green and pretend to be a hedge.

And then, once the ninjas have given up on trying to find you and practice their ginsu skills on you, put on your Secret Ninja cap. The Secret Ninja is kinda like Secret Santa, but thinner, better dressed, and more likely to gift pointy objects. Help little ninja grannies across the street. Paint their houses black in the middle of the night. Do not under any circumstances mow their lawns, because you're messing with their ground cover. Ninjas love crawling around belly first in tall grass.

That's a little known fact about ninjas, but I can tell you for certain that it's true.

Get your friendly neighborhood ninja a gift. Ninjas like prizes. They particularly enjoy things that are black, things that are pointy, and lawn flamingos. So if you can find a black, razor-tipped lawn flamingo, you're good.

Ninjas pride themselves on being well rounded. They really appreciate art, especially if it can also be used as a deadly object. So get out your crayons and draw them a picture on heavy waxed paper. They can flick it at people and inflict major paper cuts, or roll it up and use it to whack people over the head or something. If the picture involves blood, guts, or pointy objects, you'll get extra Ninja Appreciation Points, and you can redeem them for fabulous prizes. I'll tell you more about the Ninja Appreciation Points Program later on this week.

Your homework for tonight is to think about what you can do for your local ninjas. It's Ninja Appreciation Week! Let's party!

Friday, January 23, 2009

A Haiku

Stinks really bad just like a
Piece of zombie poo

Can you tell it's still not fixed yet?

Monday, January 19, 2009

Zombie Computers Must Die

My computer died. I really need to quit talking about zombies so much, because I make them sound cool, and then all of the electronic devices in my house want to join the ranks of the dead and semi-resurrected. Which is decidedly NOT cool. You hear me, washing machine? Don't cave to peer pressure!

Anyway, I went through purgatory (otherwise known as the tech support line at Comcast cable) just so's I could get internet access long enough to download a few essential things and write to you so you don't think that I turned into a zombie and abandoned you. You hear that, HUUUUUNGH the minivan? You've abandoned me!

I feel so betrayed.

But seriously. I shall not be around much until my computer is (hopefully) restored to me, because the laptop is ridiculously slow. I hope it's not turning into a zombie.

Friday, January 16, 2009

Rob Zombie, Eat Your Heart Out

I like to laugh. This is probably no big surprise. When I was in college, I was picked out of the audience at a comedy club for one of those Don't Laugh competitions. The comedian does his schtick for two minutes, and if you don't laugh, you get a t-shirt or something else inane. So I go up there and sit on the stool, and he takes out this stuffed dog and introduces me to it. And then he slams it on the floor and yells, "SIT!"

And I crack up. It wasn't even that funny, but the fact that I wasn't supposed to laugh made it impossible for me to resist.

I owe KC a big salute for making me snarf over her suggestion of the Spice Girls as the dance squad for my marching band. Yeah, this was a couple of days ago, but I was distracted by the party at the House of Snarf.

Still, as much as I love all things Spice, I'm not sure that the Spice Girls really have enough flair to be the dancers for my band. Because remember, I've got Zom Cruise, the Teletubbies, Batman, and a Pampire on the field. (Not to mention ME, because I exude coolness like a rockstar exudes fish. Which is to say, not at all.)

So I've decided that the girlies of Spice will need to take their act up a notch if they're going to hang with us. And you know what that means: Vampire, Werewolf, or Zombie. They've got to commit to one of these groups. Personally, I'm thinking zombie, because that would make for some killer dance moves. There's the Lurch and Moan, the Lurch and Moan in Platform Shoes, and the Lurch, Jiggle and Moan. The possibilities are endless.

And really, the world needs a Posh Zombie, don't you think?

Thursday, January 15, 2009

Book Talk, Baby

There is a party going on in the House of Snarf.

That would be my house, in case you couldn't figure it out.

Yes, my car is literally frozen in the driveway. Yes, we missed the school bus this morning and had to throw ourselves upon the mercy of our kind neighbors to get the Batboy to school. These things are true, but I don't freaking care.

I finished No Pain, No Brain.

Can I just tell you that I rock the casbah? I mean, really. I'm not egotistical or anything.

It needs to sit for a few days and hopefully receive a little bit of critiquey love from my peeps, and then it shall go out into the big wide world, and hopefully there shall be much snarfage.

Speaking of the peeps, I owe some serious thanks to my critiquers. I hereby offer the title of Disciple of Snarf to the following people: Ami, Bryan, Ellen, Laura, and Ray. When I'm famous, I'll still remember you. Faintly.

I'm just kidding. Seriously, the book would suck if it wasn't for your feedback, so thanks. Hopefully it doesn't suck now, though, because then that wouldn't be much of a compliment, would it? Anyway, I'm mucho happy about that.

You may have noticed that I'm also listing the books I've read for the Read 50 Books in 2009 Challenge in the sidebar. And damn it, I've already got another must read.

Book numero 3 was Wolf Songs, edited by M.H. Bonham and featuring the fabulous Cate. The best part about reading this is that I can honestly say that her story "The Graveyard of Dead Vehicles" was one of my favorites, along with "To Love Loki" by Gerri Leen. I'm all about the mythology.

Book numero 4 was Unwind by Neil Shusterman. Let me get this off my chest: I hate Neil Shusterman with the fire of a thousand suns. He is so darned good that he makes me cry. I shall never be that good, except that I just finished No Pain No Brain, so maybe I am. But seriously, Unwind takes a really difficult subject and makes a good book out of it, and it doesn't come off as preachy. That's awesome. This one gets a star from me; if you haven't read it, you need to.

Book numero 5 was The Ninja Burger Honorable Employee Handbook. I know enough ninjas, and I was considering starting a franchise except that they'd have to disembowel themselves if they made a late delivery. That's a really good way not to have any friends any more. I giggled through this one a snowy afternoon when the kids were playing hide-and-seek.

And last for this week, book numero 6 for 2009 was Geek Love. It's not the sort of book I'd usually read, although the premise is sure interesting. It's about a family of carnival freaks and has lots of people with missing limbs and some cool piano playing Siamese twins. But it's all about the issues. Slayer and I used to watch movies about issues when we were first dating and trying to impress each other. Now, we watch movies with lots of car chases and snappy dialogue.

So, if you combine all of those titles together, you get Unwind the Geeky Ninja Wolves. And people say I have no talent for titles...

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Carrie's Snarfalicious Marching Band

I really wish I could be in marching band again. I loved being in the band. I loved the incessant practices. I loved the plumes on our caps that looked like Big Bird's privates. I loved wearing dickies. I particularly loved the time when we marched two miles uphill (you think I'm exaggerating, but I'm not) to get to a parade, and then when the parade finally started, I fainted right in the middle of the street. This may have something to do with the fact that my drums weighed about 3/4 of what I weighed. (Again, not kidding. How in the bleep did I make it that far?)

I miss playing "Gonna Make You Sweat," because C & C Music Factory are unrecognized musical geniuses. I miss the solo in "Wipeout" because it made me feel kewl when I most definitely was not. (Although I did not get the traditional dumpster slide initiation common to all freshmen percussion line members, because I picked the biggest, scariest senior and started flirting with him. Because I am smart with a capital MA.)

So I'm going to start my own marching band. I'm going to play snare drum, because really it's my only chance. I played quads because I'm REALLY left handed and couldn't play a right-handed snare part if someone held a squirt gun full of pate to my head. My right hand rides the short bus. Anyway, I'm the snare. Batman will play the quads, because then I can stand next to him and admire his eyebrows. Richard Simmons gets to play the cymbals, because that would be funny.

I'm going to find the Shaved Sasquatch to play the tuba, because it just seems to be fitting. The Teletubbies will play the la-la out of the flute. Pampire is going to play the trumpet, because that girl can blow. And Zom Cruise is going to be our field conductor. If he does a good job, I'll get him a couch to jump on.

But the real question is, who should be in our dance squad? They'd better look good in pigtails and go go boots, because ALL dance squads should have pigtails and go go boots. (Ahem. I HONESTLY accidentally typed ho ho boots. Whoopsie.)

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

Things That Make Me Snarf - Richard Simmons

Richard Simmons is a genius.

Slayer and I were watching TV the other night, and he made some Richard Simmons comment. I don't remember what it was, but it got me started thinking about how funny R.S. really is. I think he should be in every single movie that is made.

In fact, here are ten movies that I think would have been much better if Richard Simmons was in them:

1. The Terminator, with Richard Simmons as the Terminator

2. E.T., with Richard Simmons as the alien

3. Gone with the Wind, with Richard Simmons as Scarlett O'Hara

4. Spartacus, with Richard Simmons as Spartacus

5. Grease, with Richard Simmons as Danny Zuko

6. Harry Potter, with Richard Simmons as Snape... or maybe Dumbledore

7. Friday the 13th, with Richard Simmons as Jason

8. Bridget Jones' Diary, with Richard Simmons as Bridget... or maybe Daniel Cleaver

9. Three Men and a Baby, with Richard Simmons as the baby

10. Lord of the Rings, with Richard Simmons as Sam

11. (ADDITION) How could I forget Chewbacca? That's the best one of all.

Man, I really should have been a casting director, because this is sheer genius. Or an agent. I could start the Richard Simmons Talent Agency. That would be so cool.

Saturday, January 10, 2009

7 Things About Moi

I've been tagged, courtesy of Natalie.

Share seven facts about yourself in the post. Tag seven people at the end of your post by leaving their names and the links to their blogs.

1. Funny noises crack me up. So if you ever get into an argument with me, your best defense is to start quacking.

2. I am really upset that I can't write music, because I think the world needs a zombie musical. I'm also upset that I can't draw, because I'd like to do a graphic novel about Zom Cruise and Pampire.

3. What I can do is put both of my legs behind my head, and I cannot find a good use for that skill. I can also say, "Pshaw, and monkeys might fly out my butt" in German. Which is yet another useless skill.

4. I helped discover a new disease. And no, I'm not kidding. Apparently, I am smart when you can get me to stop babbling on about Batbrows and Pampires.

5. I have really small ears. I have those headphones that you stick into your ears, and they kept popping out the last time I was at the gym. They popped out and one went straight down my cleavage. The guy on the elliptical next to me laughed so hard that he snarfed and something flew out of his mouth. I'm not sure what it was and wasn't about to catch it to find out.

6. My favorite Goonie is Mouth. My favorite Smurf is Handy. If you put them together, you get Handy Mouth, which sounds wrong with a capital ONG.

7. I once had an audition for a low budget ripoff of the Fly Girls, only I injured my knee the week before I was supposed to dance. Just think, if I hadn't kicked my knee out of the socket, I might be known as C-Ha.

I have totally lost track of who has been tagged and who hasn't, and I don't want anyone to kill me. So I tag Dopey, Doc, Sleepy, Sneezy, Bashful, Grumpy, and Happy. There. That's seven.

Friday, January 9, 2009

Not THAT Kind of Dancer

All that theater talk yesterday has me thinking about, well, theater. Kinda obvious, ain't it? But seriously... it's probably not all that surprising that I was a big theater chick way back in the day. I did a lot of backstage work, set building, and that kind of thing. And let me tell you, you haven't heard enough jokes about screws, screwing, and screwdrivers until you have worked with a bunch of high schoolers constructing a set. We used to hold contests on who could say the raunchiest things.

Yeah, I won. Because I have no shame. But you knew that already, didn't you?

Anyway, one year I decided to step out from behind the curtain, and I don't mean like I did that one time that some of my crew members weren't really paying attention and pushed half of a car onto one of the actors. I mean like in acting.

I got a part in Midsummer Nights Dream as one of the fairies, which worked out really well for me because they have a couple of dance numbers and I was dancing a lot back in those days. But what didn't work out is that the director (I almost typed 'dictator,' which is really a freudian slip) decided to do something 'creative.'

So there I was, playing a fairy, doing a little sexy type dance, dressed like Dopey from the seven dwarves. Everyone in the show was dressed like a cartoon character. The dwarf-fairies ended up being the comic relief, and I was unofficially dubbed as Sexy of the alternadwarves. There was also Slutty, Ditzy and Boobie. Don't ask me; I don't know.

I still think it's funny. But not as funny as when we made a fake manthing out of a toilet paper roll and stuck it under Tarzan... I mean Theseus' loincloth. I'm just now realizing what pervs we truly were.

Thursday, January 8, 2009

Things That Make Me Snarf - Valkyrie

This is even funnier if you imagine Zom Cruise in it.

One of the best parts of this video is that I kind of semi know the guy who plays Tom Cruise. He used to be in a theater company with Bestfriend. (And no, I can't remember if he was at the naked party or not. Because I know you're wondering.) Bestfriend used to throw an annual Halloween party, and one year he came as Die Fledermaus and his girlfriend at the time was American Maid. If you don't know who those people are, you need to go watch some Tick immediately because I'm not allowed to talk to you any more until you do.

Anyway, that year, Slayer was Mr. Furious, and I was The Bowler from Mystery Men. I had a heck of a time figuring out what to do about the bowling ball with the skull in it, because grave robbery ain't my bag, baby. I ended up sticking a glow-in-the-dark skull into one of those hamster exercise balls, and the rest was history-ish.

I miss theater. Theater people come up with the best Halloween costumes. Like the one guy who was a Twister board and kept running up to pretty girls and yelling, "Right hand on yellow! Right hand on yellow!" I'll give you two guesses where the yellow dot was, and the first one doesn't count.

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Oh Buuuga Buuuga

I think Pam Anderson's cover is blown. Just about everyone knows she's a vampire. Although I'm sorry to tell many of you that Britney is actually a zombie. How do I know this? Well, when you play "Oops I Did It Again" backwards, you can hear the real words:
Oops I ate brains again
And chomped on your heart
Got hurgn uungh gaaar
Oh buuuga buuuga.

I'd translate the last few lines for you, but then you wouldn't need to buy my zombie dictionary.

And Katie Couric is a werewolf. I've been told by an insider that after all of her interviews, she wolfs out and eats her interviewees. Of course, he was wearing a tinfoil beanie, so I think you've got to take that story with a whole shaker full of salt.

Sorry. Just dropped a potato chip down my cleavage and entirely lost my train of thought. I think I'll have to move on.

I finished two books in the Read 50 Books Challenge: Ninjas and Zombies and Freaks, Oh my! (Apparently, I'm reading about ninjas, zombies, and freaks. I didn't know that until about two seconds ago, but what the bleep. I'll run with it.) Anyway, my first book was The Zombie Survival Guide by Max Brooks. It's supposedly humor, but honestly? The concept was the funniest thing about it. If you're a big zombiephile, get it. If not, skip out and read World War Z instead, because frankly, the survival guide reads like the background work that made WWZ so fabulous.

Book two was The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman, and I think it fits with my new theme. Ain't much that's freakier than living in a graveyard and wearing a winding sheet. And I was really distracted by that. Like, was he wearing it like a toga, or was it wrapped around his waist? It reminds me of the time I was acting in a workshop scene from Prelude to a Kiss, and the two characters were supposed to be hanging out in their apartment after some happy together time, so I wore a long t-shirt with a bathing suit underneath, and the instructor said she missed the entire scene because she'd spent the whole time trying to look up my shirt and see what I was wearing.

Talk about freaky.

But lucky for me, I was able to get past the winding sheet, and enjoy one of the best reads I've had in a while. The Graveyard Book gets a star from me, as if that really means anything in the greater scheme of things, but it makes me feel special to give out stars, so I'm going to. If you haven't read it, you should.

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

Britney Can't Be All Three

I think it's time for another round of Vampire, Werewolf, or Zombie. For those of you who missed the first round, the rules are simple. I give you three random people, and you have to tell me which one is secretly a vampire, which one is a werewolf, and which one is a zombie. There are no prizes in this game except the satisfaction of knowing that there are other people out there who are just as twisted as you.

Or something like that.

Anyway, here are your celebrities for the day. We've got Pamela Anderson and her scaryboobs.

Then there's Britney Spears and her issues.

And last but not least, there's Katie Couric. One of these things is not like the others, folks.

And I know you're thinking this, so let me reiterate it: Britney cannot be all three. That's cheating. Quit it, or I'll send Zom Cruise after you. (Get it? Zombie Tom Cruise has been shortened to... oh, never mind.)

So tell me, peeps. Which one is the vampire, which one is the werewolf, and which is the brain-loving zombie?

Monday, January 5, 2009

All Hail Lord Tangent

I was thinking that it would be cool if dreamcatchers really caught what you dreamt about so you could play with it later. Last night, half asleep and half awake, I was wondering who would win in a fight between Zombie Tom Cruise and Batman. It would have been cool to wake up and see it in live action. I could have bet against me and see if I won.

Of course, if that really worked, and if I was smart, I'd dream about hybrid minivans. I'd have to hang the dreamcatcher on the side of my bed though, because how ironic would it be if I dreamt about a minivan and it manifested over my bed and squashed me.

Speaking of minivans, I've finally named mine. It's been resurrected so many times that I think it's a distant relative of Zombie Tom Cruise (on the zombie side, not the Cruise side). My minivan is now named HUUUUUURNGH! This translates as "runs like crap" in zombiespeak. The best part about this is that when it doesn't work, I can sit in the driver's seat and yell, "Run HUUUUUURNGH! Run!" Because for some reason, that strikes me as fricken hilarious.

Which makes me think that it's a pity that there is no zombiespeak dictionary. Because I'd like to be able to say, "The streetcar is filled with potato salad" in zombie. I can say it in German, and I've gotten a lot of use out of that sentence.

Actually, I really have. And now I want to write that darned dictionary. That's the problem with tangents; when I run with them, I usually end up with an idea that strikes my fancy, and then I've got to resist the urge to write it. I need a ghost writer, although not a literal ghost. Not like I'm prejudiced against ghosts or anything, but they'd end up dictating the book because everyone knows that ghosts can't type for crap, and I'd have to listen to the recording and try to transcribe it, which wouldn't save me any time at all.

Darned tangents. Now I want to write the zombie dictionary, a dreamcatcher book, and a frustrated-writer-ghost book. Maybe I could put them all together and write a book about a frustrated writer ghost that lives in a dreamcatcher and is writing a zombie dictionary. Tangentially. Because I'm all about the tangents.

Thursday, January 1, 2009

What Shall I Read?

PJ Hoover, lovely person that she is, is doing a Read 50 Books Challenge. (I gave it capital letters. It shall probably now take on a life of its own and start trampling small cities. Methinks I should stop reading the Japanese monster book again.) Anyway, the idea is to read at least 50 books over the next year, and I've vowed not to cheat and reread stuff I've already read, because that is a biscuit thing to do. And really, I have too much free time.

I can't write that sentence without snorting. Which is really attractive, let me tell you.

But seriously. Me loves the books, and me needs some good recommendations to add to the list. So, I ask you, gentle (there's that snort again) readers: What should I read?

Obviously, I like anything snarfworthy. Anything that involves kewl monsters, superpowers, or Tom Cruise giving in to his zombieness and attacking people on the highway. (Someone really needs to write that book. Wait a tic. I'm someone.) I'm a genre chick: me especially likey the sci-fi and fantasy. And of course, there's YA. I wouldn't write it if I didn't love it. Because at my core, I haven't matured much since high school except that now I wouldn't date a guy who got a cue ball stuck in his mouth. Or the one who thought he was a vampire. Or the one who drove repeatedly past my house at night playing "Groovy Kind of Love" by Phil Collins. (What WAS he thinking?) Or the mobster.

Now I'm a ninjas only kinda girl. Because black is where it's at, bay-bee.

So gimme some suggestions (for books, not for ninjas). Pretty please with a cue ball on top?