GRANDPA HOW COME GRANDMA IS NOT HERE

“Grandpa how come grandma is not here? Did she go a way? did she get sick and die?”

Holy kid. How come every time you see me moving things around you ask me stuff. Maybe I will get that 50 cents back.

“No grandpa that was different, you didn’t teach me nothing with my [money tax] question.”

Good I will try again with this question.  “Grandpa, no, stop. Your face is going to make me laugh.”

Sounds a little to late. Here we go. Laugh it out. And while you’re doing that laugh more at I will take that fifty-cents again and this time charge you!, a quarter. 25 big cents.

“Haahaa.”

Guess what. You can laugh 75 cents right into my hand or I’ll tell you nothing about your grandma.  Yeah sounds more like it.

“How come the price went up. Grandpa that’s not fair.”

There is no fair here kid.  Just me and you and my honor, and on my honour I will have earned this 50 cents AND. 25 more big cents.

“Oh grandpa, you’re always trying to be smart or wright…Grandpa I said wright, don’t you get it? The brothers.  Grandpa. You told me this.”

Just hand over the money along with the tax.

“It better be good grandpa, it better not be like the tax lesson.

You paying me or what o-cheep-o.

“Hnhn, GRANDPA, don’t do that with your face. HAhahah.”

A least my eyes, are opened, not my mouth. You’re standing on the steps with your eyes closed and you’re mouth opened.

Yeah laugh some more.

Laugh you’re self to pieces.

I’ll pick you up off the floor.

“Grandpa you have one of those faces that people laugh at.”

Is that right.

“Grandpa yeah. Like if I didn’t know you, and I saw you, I would laugh.”

?

“Grandpa not like that. Hahaa.”

?

“Hahaha. Don’t do that with your eyes.”

Glad I make you happy.

“Grandpa no.”

I got work to do.

“Wait grandpa.”

You laugh yourself back up the steps and clean your room. And when that’s done…

“Okay grandpa, seriously tell me about grandma. Here, look, 75 cents.”

For What.

“Okay, grandpa look. 50 cents, for the story, and twenty-five cents tax. Now tell me, who is my grandma. Where did she go, did somebody take her. My friend’s mom died and went to heaven. He said he misses her a lot and grandpa he actually told me he cries to go to sleep.  He must miss her a lot. Hahahaa, grandpa, grandpa stop. You’re making your face look so sad like you’re going to cry.”

  1. Yup.
  2. Now here we go.
  3. It is sad.

Well what is it with you. You’re laughing like an idiot and some kid lost his grandma.

“No. No it’s your face. Grandpa… It’s like watching a move with your face.”

?

“Grandpa it’s your eyes and your mouth, You’re like this. Hahahaa. grandpa you’re killing me.  grandpa you’re making me laugh.

When ever you’re ready kid. I’m outta here.

  • I still holding this stuff for the garage .
  • And your still acting like a retarded donkey.

“No no okay okay look, grandpa look, serious, serious. But don’t make me laugh with your face. Grandpa, come on, seriously, you have funny faces when I tell you things.”

Maybe you should stop telling me things.

“Okay grandpa, have a drink of water and come a sit at the table and tell me how come grandma is not here.”

First, I want to ask you a question.

Why is it that every time you see me with a heavy load of stuff in my arms you ask questions.  Tell me why…”Grandpa you said one question.”   We can quit talking any time you know…”Grandpa, I just want to know things, how am I to answer other people if I don’t know things. Grandpa asking is for stupid kids.”

Excuse me?  What’s stupid?  Kids?

“No grandpa, questions. Questions are stupid. Hahahaa. grandpa your face.”

?

“Ha hahahaa. No grandpa stop. Don’t look at me like what.”

Is that right.

“Grandpa no. I don’t mean about grandmaaa. Grandpa never mind anything and tell me about grandma. Please, grandpa please tell me.

Fine! Your grandmother was, well still is, how can I say it, but of her mind.  She left on her own accord. She was afraid to be around children.

“Grandpa what does that even mean?”

There is three of her in her own head and they are always fighting who is here for the day or weeks running, some people would say. She would have some pretty rough days.

“What about you grandpa.”

Well I’m not crazy.

“No grandpa. I mean did she do anything to you.”

No. She tried.

“How did you stop her, did you hurt her?”

No. Just held her down and cried.

“Aw Grandpa I’m sorry.”
No. She’s the love of my life.

“Grandpa where is she now?”

Oh no you don’t kid. Not this one.

“Grandpa, seriously, is she in a small town stamping Envelopes. Room 327. Grandpa I just needed to know if I was right. I’m right, right grandpa? ROOM 327. That’s what it’s called right, I figured it out.”

Hey! I heard enough. You stay out of my stuff.

“Wait grandpa. I all ready have it written out.”

Give me it.

“Grandpa I can’t the teacher has it.”

Get it.

“Grandpa I can’t. My teacher went on a vacation to CUBA.”

Yeah I bet he did. Now guess what. This 75 cents is mine.

“Fine grandpa. But come see the picture I made for your story.”

Good god.

“Hahaaa, grandpa. Your face.”

[Scan room 327]

Holy kid! What are you doing.

“It’s okay grandpa, it’s just a picture.”

A picture of what.

“Nothing grandpa, it’s just a picture of Sally’s door with room 327 on it. I promise.”

That’s enough of my stuff kid. Well it better be.

“Oh grandpa there is only two more.”

What!    Listen.  Yeah okay laugh.

IMAG0344

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

HEY GRANDPA I WROTE A STORY ABOUT YOU/CAN I SELL IT

“Hey grandpa I wrote a story about you can I sell it?”

Why you little dickens why would you do that?

“Money grandpa, my teacher said I should write a story about you and sell it.”

There is no story about me!

“Yes grandpa, all the stories you tell me.”

Yeah well those there stories, are me and you kid, secret quite between grandpas and grandkid only. Them’s stories nobody will believe.

“YES! Perfect.”

  1. Now you’re screwing with me kid.
  2. And now you’re laughing like a retard kid, looking at a comic up-side down.
  3. Oh sure laugh you’re head off.

“No grandpa I’m laughing because of your face.”

Really kid? Just tell me why so happy.

“The name of my story is GRANDPAS AND GRANDKIDS.”

Yeah okay then, laugh and slob yourself all over the place. How is that even funny?

“Grandpa, grandpa. You’re going to love this. Only grandpas and grandkids can buy it.”

There’s more than two out there you know.

“So grandpa you’re the best. People are going to love this, I know it.”

How do you know it.

“Because I love this story grandpa.”

Yeah well, hey wait there, come back.

“Okay in a minute Grandpa. I need to press send.”

WELL WHAT IS IT?

“THEFLASKDRINKERS”

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

IMG_1514“GRANDPA.  IT’S OKAY.”   Yup, laughing trust me.

“Well grandpa the story is not about you? Really.  Now come on grandpa, it’s a story you told me about your great-grandfather or grandfather. What ever grandpa it’s not about you.  Trust me. I wouldn’t tell on you.”

  1. What do you mean!
  2. And what are you laughing at now?
  3. There is nothing to tell on me.

“‘Grandpa, I’m not laughing at you. It’s your face.”

Yeah here we go again. Your acting like a kid…”Grandpa I am a kid. 11 get it I don’t know how many times I tell you I had my birthday and you still don’t get it.”

Yeah? You’ll get it if you push send.

“Grandpa, I already sent it down stairs, well coming up the stairs, you saw me with my iPhone. Grandpa don’t look that way, you are going to make me laugh.”

Yeah well that’s a little to late to eh.

Hey yeah dumb kid, you don’t have a copy, soo it does not matter to me what you sent.

“Oh grandpa as if I need a copy…you told me the story over a hundred times, I’m sure I pretty much know it by heart now. Besides, never mind now grandpa, I sent it.”

Yeah well you got chores and home-work so get at’er.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

#THETV/FILMRIGHTS MARKETPLACE ON WHAT IS NEW TODAY/I’LL SELL ALL RIGHTS THEN I’LL CRY

So I wrote a story and it goes like this.

ROOM 327 / NORA

Really, it’s about Frank. He is THE FRANK DOMINO right out of THE FLASK DRINKERS, story, the small village of Avonmore/MURRAY BARKLEY, who is THE MR. MURRAY BARKLEY himself, from Avonmore, diving straight into the story, HIGHNOON-BUZZERS

So this story is   ROOM 327 / NORA , is about.

[“LOVE” LUST & DANGER! MIXED WITH FUN]

Frank fell in to the role of owner {THE TRICONE INC.} making envelopes & boxes.  The towns people believe this and earn an honest living happily. When really, Frank is from a secret society where stamping out evil, no matter the form it arrives in.

Nora thinks. Plus Frank is freaking hot! ” He stands tall’, but he blows spit-balls. “He stands like an Indian warrior.” ride that cowboy

Frank took in this kid called Chris. He felt responsible for the death of the kids parents. He allows Chris to act as his right-hand man, running the production lines, of TRICONE INC.  This causes the kid to out weigh his authority running to Frank. The kid is 22.

Then one day Nora moves here, becomes proud owner of THE OLD FEED MILL.  Getting a job, working stamping envelopes.  Up until now Nora’s only problems are her two hidden personalities, always changing her mind, she believes this is what women do or they are not women. Innocent.

She can’t believe after all these years, stories of the old mill & Mr. & MRS. Wilson still become the talk of the town when Nora is around. They want inside. Do or die.

This day [DALLAS & CURRY] just arrived off the only bus that drives out that way twice a month. Where this fortunate, accidental meeting takes place, entwining them & herself to this cat and mouse game.

They are killers-this their bread & food. Roaming from town to town searching for the rich, teaching his son the in and out of the job. Only Curry has a mind of a child, and right now all he wants is suck-suck from Nora. Knuckle-head idiot bastard, falls in love with Nora-first sight and the only thing in his head is rape and murder with her.

Nora is always muttering about lots of things so lots of things go unnoticed. Or do they. She works for Frank who Loves her. But afraid to say. She’s so amusing. He wants love too.  Would she want him back? This is his big dilemma.  Or does he just want in the old feed mill too.

She keeps to herself, by herself, for herself. She believes herself to be nuts. Crazy. Innocent.

 Someone people would say. ANTAGONIST-ANTAGONIZE-ANTAGONISM ALL IN ONE.

Here is the thing.

  1. Be care full what you ask for.
  2. Every word has its proper meaning.
  3. Love lust & Danger come all together.

THE END.

000_0267

  

 

THETALER ITS HIGH NOON

It is I, your THETALER. I’m in the bar.

You know who I am, THETALER OF ALL TIMES. I have stepped forward onto your earth. You need me, us, you are at risk from this day forth-I can only say to you. For this is none of my fault, This is. Your, doing. Well not all of mankind., but most of you world wide-caused our ripple of destruction. [see the word]  SARGATE/ Blay zumi bo mee> , You caused a crack from earth to mars from mars to earth. You are under attack!,

But of course who is going to take heed from my words and get to the cities!

WORLD WIDE was given nangto drupe perseasa  tie zine.

  1. There is a child
  2. She must be saved
  3. I need to learn.

Then. “Take another drink! Play some music!, Or Shut the hell-up! Tell me where you are from!” An angry drunk man yelled at Jean to shut-up, causing the place to sit still.

The funny little guy made his way across the floor followed by the click click clicking singing from his cow-boy boots. You can bet everybody watched. > What the hell, the guy is hilarious. keeps me coming to this drinking hole way out-side the city limits. > I can tell you, so do many of these customers. They even bring their friends just for a laugh at this guy. But it also goes to say several of these drinkers have never met the guy. The clicking stopped. All eyes upon him, waiting watching like the first time seeing a MASTER SHARK jumping at you right NOW! No body drank., it seemed odd that even the jukebox finished its last song! Time stopped! Then CRACK! just like that, silence broke.

“I am Jean-Guy Rubber-Boot! They tell me I come from your mother’s tit! Are you running a tab.”  Laughter nothing but laughter could be heard.

Then just like that, he turned clicking his way back to his spot drank a drink then asked the bar-keep for a dollar for the pool-table.  “You rack’em I stack’em.”  He placed his dollar on the table. But the same man bellowed again. “What the fuck! Who does this clown think he is.?” He stood-up from where he sat doing his best to maintain his balance, “Play some music! Where did that guy go. I wanna buy him a drink., A round for everyone.”   Shouts and yammering chatters and cheers ate up all space.

“Who are you really?”  I said, he looked into my eyes. “There was a Roy in my head.” He put his attention to a shot-glass he is holding.   “I am RIGEL, one of the brightest stars in your universe.”   Some how Jean-Guy R.B. had a hold of a 40 ounce bottle of whiskey pouring a shot. Of course he offered me one. Yes I took it. We laughed, down the hatch. I needed more Information, I can tell you it was the most fun I had in a long time. Of course when he talked of this world coming to an end, I entered more dialogue to my chronicles of this nature.  I can tell you as I was in the city yesterday, keeping an eye on a strange woman sing songs of the end. Stay out of the wind she sang.  I wonder if these two know each other?

I myself have seen red over the horizon two nights ago but I have no explanation as of yet. I have recorded this happening as coming in intervals of three, then it was over.  The cause is unknown, further investigating is needed. But as far as I could tell it came far from the country’s outer edges.

The time is late early hours of the morning, 1:49am so for this night I am packing it in and will drive back to the city to return again.

When I let the establishment every-one was hanging in for last call on the alcohol. Jean-Guy  is still talking of the earth’s destruction in 25 more days. “Give it a rest Joe. Fuck look at him . . .He’s a fucking bum. Fuck, drink or go home. Who the fuck is he bothering. You fuck? You’re buying him drinks all night. Leave the fucking guy a lone.”  Ray went to the jukebox.

Things were still going strong with much fun, when I left the bar. I could tell the rest of the night in that establishment will be safe.  But as I leave the place behind all the red flashes in the wooded area sparked off in the thicket. I can tell by the diameter of the radiant glow this to be their resting spot for this time.  The bar is safe for now.

100_3133

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ABOUT MYRITINGBOARD

Well this is just the thing. I can not find any spot to make a marking.

Where do I find about? I found it before, rather it was just there for me to explain what I am about.  Oh silly me sounding like a girl again.  Must be the inner me. A little girly girl. “The dog ate my slipper.”   Don’t worry you will get another slipper.. “But you don’t understand, I was my glass slipper.”  So go cry then.  But leave us. We need to know about MYRITINGBOARD.

“So what about it pray tell.’

“It changed.”

“Did it now, into what? A playing field?”

“Can you see the look on my face! I am serious! People should know about myritingboard! You. What do you know. You’re just a piece of meat!”

“Hey calm down now, I will toss you an ink jar. You can colour your world into anything you’d like.”

“Please life is changing about me I must change about me too.  Myritingboard is about telling it straight. life is like that. Straight.”

“Don’t you mean the earth is round?”

“What is this earth? I am talking life! I am telling you I am thestorytaler and I will tell you the story straight the way it is, no back-outs no cop-outs no escape from the way life is.”

“So this is what you are saying you are about? Telling tales the way they go down with your ritingboard.”

“Yes myritingboard, you have it so.”

“Hum, can I leave now?”

“With my honor. But not without telling you there should be a page about, ABOUT.”

000_0084

 

 

 

 

RULES AND MORE RULES FOR WRITERS

Rules for everything, everywhere, world wide, even for writers trying to get noticed.

Rules are not easy at times giving us headaches like we are criminals acting all stealth trying to get one toe-nail in the door.    TOE-Nail?  Yes! Toenail. The doors are closed so tight you are screaming with joy for your toenail in the door.

But this is not good like you thought because now you are STUCK THERE!

Let me in let me out, my head hurts or my toe. I’m so confused.

They want this from you.

  1. A poster with a professional pitch.    Do you need an AGENT?
  2. Your pleasure composed into a Logline, Title and Synopsis that will tickle them.
  3. The most catching Title ever, blocking out hundreds of others, make yours shine.
  4. The most important 30 words creating a Logline that will lure them to you.
  5. YUCK! up to seven pages of detailed plots/illustrations/driving the characters deals, creating  three acts then splitting the first & second  act where there is vengefulness100_3215 , caring, wining losing. At this point I want my toenail free.  A WONDERFUL WORLD
  6. You need to select an honest place to protect all of your written work before you even try getting it out there.   They say there are places online/how safe is this?
  7. It is time for you to pitch your screenplay/book. So now you need a door and one box of band aids. There are thousands of people wanting their written work looked at hoping to get produced. So Where? There happen to be zillions of places online if you can get in there.
  8. They say enter contests, at least you will/ maybe get recognized.
  9. It is like a roller coaster up & down. But the best poster picture wins. You just hope it does not look like anything else ever!

Rules and more rules for writers.  No crying No Stalking No killing. Just follow the RULES.

TIC-TOC TIC-TOC TIC-TOC

WARNING:   Association to connect with the mind.

Tic-toc, tic-toc, hide your clocks if you’re outside take off your watch, tic-toc, tic-toc.

Put your headphones on, volume up. TIC-TOC !

The day was long, work started out fine, after several had hours passed things became tedious, soon after that tedium set in and stayed. “This reeks like bull crap. I need to get out of here.!” He look over his shoulder seeing three more piles of waiting pallets to be scrapped before he could leave. “Not today,” this said with a long release of breath.

These pallets held  discarded pieces of wood needing to get sawed into smaller pieces to fit the size of a reprocessing machine, turning the unused boards to pressed wood for resale.

Finally with a lowered head, the job is done, he walked out of his work building with out even punching the clock. Not even say safe to all. Home. That is all he wanted, to get out of there and go home. Something had bothered him the night before, what? He has no idea what is wrong but for the lack of sleep, which reminds him of this exhaustible feeling. And forget eating. The hour is late evening set in and he refuses to think about food even though his stomach pokes at his mind here there, hello feed me, no time, no time. He hears his watch tic toc,  tic toc,  tic toc. STOP! “I don’t understand!” He sits in his truck waiting watching, for what?

He is being watched! In the trees, look over there, you can see the red flashes. He can’t. He doesn’t know to. Tic toc tic toc   BANG! -Knock knock knock. Back to reality, he is startled by this hammering on the side window. It is his good friend with raised eyebrows and that wonder all over his face. He then motions for the window to be rolled down.

“What’s up ya dick?  What’s the big hurry! You haven’t said a word all day, I gave your lunch to Joe.”

“I don’t know.” He still sat in his truck all confused.

“Look. We still on for tonight. We talked Lucy into meeting you.”

“What? Lucy? Tonight?” He glanced at his watch, he rubbed at his head, he stay bewildered.

“What the hell you bastard! You pissed yourself when you saw Lucy. You said you’d do anything to get with her again. Why are you being a dick!”  He gave his friend the finger.

“I’m busy. I have work. Tell her another time. I need to split.”

“SPLIT?  Are you whacked in the head? “

“Next week.”  He rolled up the window and drove away not even looking at his friend who still standing there shaking his head.

HOME. He is home. He unlocks the door going in, tosses the truck keys on the small stand by the door as he shuts and relocked it. He heads for the kitchen sink splashing cold water to his face. This feels good but really does not help. He took off his watch taking a long shower. This helps. He forgets for this time, as he is listening to the water splash down around him drowning out any noise,  he stands there under the streaming wetness soaking in all the aroused pureness water gives us. “I need this day over.”  Minutes drained away.

To his surprise he did feel much better so he tossed a man sandwich together sat eating muttering in his head how he has a school project to finish .

He took a course in the arts of Electricity giving him a final test on putting together a three-way switch that works!, this is to be handed in by the Monday coming.  So finishing the sandwich and the mulling he set to work gathering all the wires and tools and parts to construct his three way switch board. Time passes and with great success he is quite pleased with the work at hand as it is complete and does indeed work. “Yes!”

He looks to the clock tic toc  tic toc                        He  looks at the clock.                                            The clock.         Why?   He does not know.   He can not move from the clock. He listens to the ticking sound non stop. He wants to move but for some reason he is paralyzed, waiting for something, but what, he can not say. Waiting watching standing in a trance knowing that all time stopped, even the second-hand did not move.  This happened last night as well, only he happens to be a very deep sleeper so he couldn’t fully wake.

Now he is awake and they are back, humming their eerie mind waves, capturing his thoughts controlling his every move and there is nothing he can do. Just stand in front of the timeless clock waiting, tic toc tic toc,  watching, tic toc tic toc  tic toc, stuck in this hypnotic awe asking over and over why!

The just like that. He turned from the clock and went to the front door unlocking  it, opening up the entrance  then took off all his clothes then stepped out into the dim night walking onward.

He can see five figures running towards him. He can see and hear their long sharp claws scraping  across the paved road-way. He could see the vigilant white teeth. he thought the eyes were in place of their stomachs, but the closer they came he can see that their heads were on long necks hanging low to their scaly hips. He could see that these creatures resembled reptiles, large running lizards like things sending mind waves, telepathic thoughts causing him to obey their every command. Tears rolled down his cheeks then he lay down in the cool grass as all five encircled him.

These are called BUGOIDS. Right now I am not at Liberty to say. But the larger one spread open his legs. It started eating all his sex glands, anything to do with the reproduction glands, all and any organ clean of any disease is to be devoured by this one  Bugoid while the others waited.

Tears streamed down the side of his face and he thought he was having sex. No pain at all, none. Then the humming stopped and they snatched his eyes.

The next morning, nothing remained of him, not one drop of blood nothing! His clothes were even gone.

TWENTY-SEVEN DAYS

CAGES hanging birds
LET ME OUT

What if you had twenty-seven days to live, to escape to get out. What are you going to do?  Any given situation needs a well thought out plan of action to be ready hanging in the on-set of perfect timing.

You thought you had it all worked out sitting back in your cushy lazy boy chair, your hand in the bowl of tasty popcorn as you glare at the television set watching your favorite TV show. All your bills were paid by you. Shopping is done. The house tidied and things are cool, but all the while outside the streets are littered with ZOMBIES!

You hear screams, you pay no attention, just turn up the volume no bother, the people next door are always loud. But then you are distressed by all the banging at the doors and windows you get up to go see. Crap! You can not, will not believe your eyes. you blink just as the glass in your picture framed window smashes opened and death falls in.

You grab your pet chicken stuffing her in the hanging cage, then you run and pull down the cord allowing a get-a-way up into the attic. Oh so safe! And just in time. Hordes of grr-ing Zombies fill your home. What, you’re not happy? There is nothing in the attic not even light? How can this be?

What kind of life will you have now? Did you even plan if things go wrong you would have a flashlight or heat or a chair to sit on or even a chicken to eat? How long do you think you will even have before you crack! 27 days is out of the question.

Maybe if you would have thought to at least have a pencil up there with you jotting down the chronological happenings, we would know better how to prepare for such events.

So lesson learned. Make something out of your attic if you have one.

poor chicken.