tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76936832024-03-13T19:16:56.223-06:00Cheeky Wench's TavernThe personal anecdotes of one MsHellion...okay, not so personal, I probably shared them with you the last time we went drinking...but if that's been a while, catch up here.
If you want to catch up on my writing anecdotes, you can find me sailing at: HTTP://YOHOWRITERSLIFEFORME.BLOGSPOT.COMHellie Sinclairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03933713255844695337noreply@blogger.comBlogger148125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7693683.post-27132838434654087932010-12-18T13:55:00.001-06:002010-12-18T13:57:17.944-06:00New GoalsSo the goal from last year didn't pan. <br /><br />Sometimes you have to scrap and start again. That's where I am; that's what I'm doing; and that's what the ticker above is reflecting.<br /><br />New goal: first draft of new idea (of old characters) by May 20th. 90,000 words.Hellie Sinclairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03933713255844695337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7693683.post-88796344482770665112009-10-31T23:59:00.002-06:002009-11-01T00:06:29.497-06:00NaNoWriMoI need to finish this book, so I'm casting my lot with NaNoWriMo. 50,000 words should finish Adam & Eve.<br /><br />I need to make things bad and worse for Adam & Eve, as they date in the modern world. Any suggestions for things that would be plain awful or plain funny? I have a handful of ideas, all leading back, of course, to Adam and Eve falling back in love with each other. But I really, really want a BLACK MOMENT. Right now, though, it's in the vague category...I guess like all true NaNos, I'm going to have to go on faith that when I get there, it'll be as godawful as I'm hoping. Godawful for the characters, not the book....<br /><br />One hour into NaNo and I haven't any new words yet. I better be off to get cracking at this...it's nearly 1700 words a day. <br /><br />If you're NaNoing, good luck, and I hope to cross the finish line with you!Hellie Sinclairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03933713255844695337noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7693683.post-12240970177643991832009-09-22T21:02:00.005-06:002009-09-22T21:08:07.792-06:00BanterI read books for the banter. It's why I love Jennifer Cruisie books so much. You can practically roll in the banter. <br /><br />Basically I write dialogue for women to say all the cheeky, clever things I'd either wouldn't have the guts or think of in time to say; and I write all the stuff I wish men would say. *LOL*<br /><br /><blockquote>Eve scoffed. “You couldn’t get me.”<br />“I got you once.”<br />“You’ll recall the options were limited.”<br />“Maybe you’re right. Maybe if we’d had all the options in the world, we never would have ended up together. Then again, maybe we would have. Come on, Evie, what’s so bad about me you wouldn’t have picked me again?”<br />“I assume you’re looking for an answer other than: you’re an asshole.”<br />“Babydoll, all men are assholes. We just have varying degrees of it.”</blockquote><br /><br />Okay, maybe that's not dead romantic...but does feel like it might at least be true. *LOL* <br /><br /><strong>What do you look for in dialogue? Funny and bantery; or the "You are my favorite form of heroin" romantic whatnot?</strong>Hellie Sinclairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03933713255844695337noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7693683.post-87475043871848035222009-09-13T12:22:00.002-06:002009-09-13T12:29:24.706-06:00Cute Meet, AgainWe know the hero and heroine of this book have been married before--so really the cute meet is hard to do. How do you make something old new again?<br /><br /><em><em><strong>Nyiah—the dusky brunette from downstairs—was talking to a potential Mrs. Smith. Just the right height—maybe 5’4—and the right build, a pert ass and reach-to-Heaven legs. She wore a pair of heels that made her look vulnerable and kick-ass at the same time. Ass, legs, strategically placed clothing. This girl was intriguing.<br /><br />She looked like a girl, a real girl, much more so than any of the other half-naked females in this room, and she did it without so much as removing a shoe. Her short blond hair was frayed into something that looked like she’d spent quite a bit of time making it look like she’d just climbed out of bed. And with her little sunflower halter sundress that looked like it was one string tug from falling off altogether, he was very much tempted to invite her to bed.<br /><br />Of course, he was going to have to find out her name first.<br /><br />He took another long drink of tequila, wobbling a bit, but not bad. He wasn’t really drunk. He never got too drunk. He’d always been able to hold his liquor. <br /><br />Although he was curious how he suddenly found himself behind the little blond vixen. He was only just across the room—then again, the room was small. Maybe that’s how he got here so fast. He just didn’t remember such a short expanse.<br /> <br />She smelled like apricots.<br /><br />Funny, apricots are what he always associated with….<br /><br />“Eve!”<br /><br />His perfect woman turned and Adam gaped down into the familiar lines of his ex-wife. But not his ex-wife. His ex-wife was wholesome, round, and had honey-brown hair. This woman was all sophisticated and sleek lines and bald. And blond. He’d loved Eve’s hair, the way it felt in his hands, the way is trailed down her back and tickled his thighs when she rode him.<br /><br />The room spun upon that thought. Concentrate, old man.<br /><br />Eve’s aqua-blue eyes widened between their thick lining of black stuff women put on their eyes to make them look bigger, which only made her look more fragile, more seductive. Why was she wearing makeup? She didn’t need makeup. She didn’t need to look anymore seductive. Her nostrils flared, and her gaze narrowed. “Are you drunk?”<br /><br />He’d be the one asking the questions here. <br /><br />“What the fuck happened to your hair?”<br /><br />Then a funny thing happened. The room swirled so fast around him, it went black, and he didn’t remember Eve answering his question. Typical.</strong></em></em><br /><br />So be honest--he knows too much about her hair right? How does a guy-guy describe hair? 'Cause the guy I'm dating would possibly describe it this way, but he also painted his kitchen "terracotta"--so he could be a secret fan of Judy Garland too...Hellie Sinclairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03933713255844695337noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7693683.post-77182270023330841172009-09-05T00:00:00.000-06:002009-09-05T00:00:00.838-06:00Meet LucyLucy is clearly a side character, though Lucy being Lucy, he does have a thing about stealing the spotlight (I'm pretty sure he's a Leo, bless him). Therefore, even though this book is about Adam & Eve (don't tell him, he still doesn't know the title isn't called "Lucifer: Finally My Side of Things"), I thought the first excerpt should be about Lucy. <br /><br />This scene takes place the day after Adam, Eve, and Lucifer arrive to Las Vegas. The hows and whys they got there are detailed in the previous chapters, but let's just say: it's Lucy's idea. Lucifer, as you might imagine, has his own and clear agenda. The devil has made his own deal with well, his own devil...and now he's got 40 days to reunite Adam & Eve to wedded bliss. If he fails, oh, well, at least he had fun in Vegas, right? He can remember that while serving eternity (again) as that snake. <br /><br />In the mean time, he'll work his plan, which is "Give them what they want" and "Make sure what they think they don't want is forbidden." And he'll start with Eve, because she at least is still speaking to him.<br /><br /> <span style="font-weight:bold;"> <blockquote>“It doesn’t matter if I did or not,” she replied coolly. “It only matters now that we’re divorced. Of course I loved the father of my children. He was a great father and a good provider.”<br /><br /> Lucifer cupped his hands behind his head. “Really? That’s weird. I always thought he was an unmitigated ass. And considering how he blamed you for that whole garden debacle, I think it’s really great you can think of him so fondly. The fact you’re carrying a torch for him now is a bit much….”<br /><br /> “I am not carrying a torch for Adam!”<br /><br /> “Oh, you clearly are. You’re still in love with him. Which is so tragic since he’s so clearly over you.”<br /><br /> Eve reeled as if slapped. “Excuse me?”<br /><br /> “I know. I wouldn’t have believed it either. I mean of the pair of you, I would have thought the situation would be reversed. Adam much more likely seems to be the torch carrier. I suppose, though, if you really want him back, you can just dally about, pining like some pathetic wallflower, and reunite with him back in the Garden of Eden. I mean, he’s made it clear how forward he’s looking to doing that.”<br /><br /> “I am not pining!”<br /><br /> “Never mind the 1001 ways to fix mangoes, which I’m sure is in your repertoire.”<br /><br /> “I am finding a new husband!”<br /><br /> “Of course, there is the possibility of Adam finding a wife in the next forty days.” Lucifer grimaced. “That would be awkward in the Garden, wouldn’t it? The new wife and the old?”<br /><br /> At Eve’s dirty look, Lucifer sighed theatrically. “Listen, I’m an avid watcher of American TV, and I can’t tell you the number of desperate women there are in the 21st century. I grant you it’s one of my favorite reasons why I’m here, if you get my drift. And where else would they be most desperate but in a city with more wedding chapels than liquor stores? And I hate to admit this, but Adam isn’t that bad looking of a guy. After watching a few seasons of The Bachelor, I have to concede, it’s probably going to be like shooting fish in a barrel for him.”<br /><br /> “As opposed to me?”<br /><br /> “Well, you’re not exactly in the first flush of youth.” Lucifer rocked his hand. “I mean, you’re not bad. No one is going to kick you out of his bed for eating crackers or anything, but it’s like the difference between George Clooney and Jennifer Aniston. Women are dying to marry George Clooney, but the same does not hold true for poor Jennifer.”<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"></span></blockquote></span><br /><br />Sweet, isn't he?Hellie Sinclairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03933713255844695337noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7693683.post-80640309241018436232009-09-04T12:03:00.002-06:002009-09-04T12:18:30.998-06:00A New BeginningHere's the scoop, the premise if you will: Adam & Eve have been going to marriage counseling for about, oh, 6000 years. It hasn't been working. In fact, at the last session--after the Counselor emphasized "empathy" and "tolerance"--Eve blurted out she wanted a divorce and Adam said it was the most sensible thing she's ever suggested. <br /><br />The Counselor--after some thought--agreed with one caveat: they must find new "soul mates" (you know, the soul mates they so clearly weren't for each other); they must do it in 40 days; and they must do in 21st century Las Vegas. <br /><br />Good luck to those poor bastards. <br /><br />Oh, did I mention Lucifer is being sent along with them to be their mentor?<br /><br />Let the games begin.Hellie Sinclairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03933713255844695337noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7693683.post-87593907637219899092009-09-04T12:00:00.002-06:002009-09-04T12:03:34.983-06:00Pirate: I'm Going to Steal ThatTerri did something brilliant with her personal blog. She's going to blog about her book. I want to do that too! Well, I don't want to blog about her book--I don't know it as well as she does. Though it's a GREAT book, be sure to keep up on her writing adventures.<br /><br />No, no, I want to write about MY book. The "In the Beginning, Again" book about Adam & Eve. So you'll get semi-regular blogs about the progress of that book here. Now that I'm actually making some progress, you should get some relatively regular blogs.<br /><br />Yeah, I can tell you're excited. Try to contain the enthusiasm.Hellie Sinclairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03933713255844695337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7693683.post-23760546440137281952009-05-26T13:54:00.001-06:002009-05-26T13:57:50.536-06:00What's My Crime?<span style="font-weight:bold;">If you saw ME in a police car what would you think I got arrested for?<br /></span><br /><br />I saw this in an email and am curious what you all think I'd be in jail for.<br /><br />(P.S. Harry Potter is in theaters in 49 days.)Hellie Sinclairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03933713255844695337noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7693683.post-72123801059426074632008-11-24T15:57:00.002-06:002008-11-24T16:05:44.922-06:00So It Begins...What with <span style="font-style: italic;">Twilight</span> come and...gone (well, it'll be gone in about 8 weeks or so, I imagine), I can now turn my attention back to that Harry Potter & the Half-Blood Prince will be out in about 8 months. 7.81 months to be exact. I have a little tracker. No idea how it works--math, you know--but the movie I was so excited and wanting to see on November 21 will actually be out July 17, 2009. Barring that WB doesn't flake out a second time and move it to Christmas 2009 to be complete prats.<br /><br />I had a half-second's inkling of "waiting" to see Harry Potter 6 after the hub died down. Then I saw the second trailer. Or the actual trailer, really, the one that follows the kick-ass teaser which had me foaming at the mouth months ago. Oh, this looks good. These looks like things from the actual book! Could a miracle really have happened?<br /><br />Anyway, I'm doing my Harry Potter dance, focused in on the release date with all the single-minded obsessiveness of a native-born Missouri deerhunter, counting down days until the next time he can deer hunt. Which by the way, is in December. I know, I didn't care to know that trivia either, but if I'm going to be burdened with that useless bit of info, it's only fair you should be too.<br /><br />Anyway, here are the current stats for when Harry Potter will be in theaters. Obess with me. You know you want to.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Months</span>: 7.81<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Weeks</span>: 33<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Days</span>: 234.33<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Hours</span>: 5,640<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Minutes</span>: 337,458<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Seconds</span>: 20,246,658.17Hellie Sinclairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03933713255844695337noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7693683.post-76096010714469698652008-11-06T11:30:00.001-06:002008-11-06T11:33:10.313-06:00Friendship: Oh, What a Tangled Web...My best (and longest standing) friend and I were talking about the complications of the man-woman dynamic. As in, women are sensitive, and men, while they typically mean well, are usually missing something important in the sensitivity area, like a brain. Men and women, duh, are wired differently and therefore think differently; and she was marveling that men and women ever hook up at all. I too wonder from time to time how men ever get laid.<br /><br />I’m sure you all agree men can be amazingly obtuse and singularly dense about things that should be so obvious. You can even tell them and draw them diagrams about the importance of the topic you’re ranting about, and like Frasier, men are of this thought: “There's an incredible piece of scientific equipment known as the Tunneling Electron Microscope. Now, this microscope is so powerful that by firing electrons you can actually see images of the atom, the infinitesimally minute building block of our universe. If I were using that microscope right now, I still wouldn't be able to locate my interest in your problem.”<br /><br />This makes men seem very insensitive—you know, not caring about our problems—and it’s not that they don’t care, or even that they don’t understand. I believe they’re more than capable of both. It’s just their priorities are not our priorities; and they are not going to devote that much energy into worrying about something that is not going to matter in five years (when it so clearly barely matters now), when they can be using that brain power for good and happy outcomes, like how to get sex…and possibly a beer. <br /><br />I can’t say men are wrong in this. I like beer. But as a woman and a best friend, I have to agree that men are insensitive…and empathy deficient much of the time.<br /><br />However, as complicated as the man-woman dynamic is, there is no way on God’s earth I will ever be convinced that it is more complicated than the woman-woman dynamic. My best relationships are with women, and they are the most frustrating, rewarding, irritating, happiest, worst, best, and most fulfilling relationships I have. One would think having a uterus would at least put me on a level playing field with my friendships. And God knows we talk about everything, so it’s not like we’re not communicating. It’s just that…I spend a lot of my time pandering to a lot of the irrational.<br /><br />As women we hate this, right? I mean, that excuse holds us back from higher positions and holding office—it’s a lame excuse. We can be very rational, thank you. But oh, my God, I do think we hold the corner on being completely irrational as well. “You’re not even angry at me. Why am I the one being yelled at?” “Because I can’t tell my mother-in-law she’s a blazing shrew, that’s why!” Oh-kay. It’s also amazing to me how something can be only my problem, my desire or whatever, is suddenly encroaching on their happiness in some way. And if I pursue it, I’m not a good friend…and I’m not being sensitive to the situation. (Women can do the guilt manipulation like no one’s business, can’t they?) It’s even gotten that I almost have the same empathy disorder my best friend accuses men of having. Technically she knows I’m not, but I’m certainly giving a good imitation of it. <br /><br />And it’s when I’m being my most unempathetic that I actually feel men might have a point: this barely matters now. What are we getting so worked up about? Can’t you just be happy right this second without trying to predict the next five years of potential happiness to follow? After 33 years of being a female, I’m going to say: Nope. We can’t. Sorry. We’re just weird.<br /><br />But the woman-woman dynamic is so important. I think it was my second day of kindergarten when I came to the stunning conclusion: Life sucks. Followed by the second conclusion: I better find a friend because that’s the only way I’m going to cope with the first conclusion. So that’s where I found my best friend. For a long time, I thought you could only have one real best friend. This is probably because of school. There’s a lot of back-stabbing and turncoating in school, so it’s little wonder that I basically had one friend who never did that so therefore I thought, you should only have one best friend. I’m not sure. I didn’t have a therapist then, but I imagine that was a lot of it.<br /><br />Only my best friend knew something then that I didn’t learn until much, much later. College actually, because by then, I had been replaced in my friend’s life by a boyfriend. Talk about a rude awakening and adjustment phase. This is what I learned: No one person can be every single thing to you, and what an incredible burden to assume one person can be. You can have lots of best friends. For God’s sake, you wouldn’t want just one pair of shoes, would you? Which pair would you choose? Surely you’d need to consider the occasion.<br /><br />This is a lot easier on certain aspects of the woman-woman dynamic. That means you can stop pestering your BFF to go to movies with you that she has no interest in, or asking to do “girl only” things with you, when you know she feels guilty leaving her husband alone on the couch. Don’t force your friends to be more than they are or give more than they can freely give. And for God’s sake, stop trying to make them more like you. It’s not going to happen; and it shouldn’t. That’s what being a friend is about. These are supposed to be people in which you feel free to be yourself around and they love you anyway. It’s about accepting people as they are, and if you can’t, then let them go. There is no point in continuing a friendship in which everyone is unhappy. Life sucks—and the point of friends is that they’re supposed to make life a little shinier. <br /><br />But having all these best friends, all of which only see a certain Hellion, is this lying? Does this mean no one friend has ever seen Hellion in the altogether then? Which Hellion is the real Hellion then? Or are all the bits of Hellion true, even if when you put them all together they contradict themselves? (Women are nothing if not contradictory.) Is it possible to have a friendship with any one person in which all aspects of yourself can be shown and not fracture the friendship?<br /><br />I don’t know.Hellie Sinclairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03933713255844695337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7693683.post-37188501920826457352008-10-03T13:52:00.002-06:002008-10-03T13:54:19.934-06:00Poem of the Day: Ballad of the Men I Have Vamped in VainI saw this once a LONG time ago, printed it, lost it, and couldn't find it again. Fortunately someone put it on the web again, so here it is, for the rest of you. Truly fitting. And I'm sure some (or all) of you can relate like me:<br /><br /><br /><br />OF virtue in woman and honor in man<br />Has many a bard sung the praise;<br />And if I now mention the subject again<br />It's distinctly a negative phase,<br />For while virtue and honor are well in their ways<br />One wearies at length of their clutch,<br />Especially when it inspires the phrase<br />"Yes, dear, but I love you too much."<br /><br />These modern young men who write books about sex<br />All say, "To be chaste is a sin!<br />Live life to the full without hindrance or checks!<br />None too young or too old to begin."<br />But for the deplorable plight that I'm in-<br />(And you'll surely admit it is such)-<br />They have no reply but an asinine grin<br />And a "Really, I like you too much."<br /><br />There are brave men a plenty, the newspapers say,<br />Who rape and seduce all the time-<br />But none of them happen to come 'round my way.<br />My friends don't seem given to crime.<br />For bridge or theatres or parties they're prime<br />And they don't seem to shrink at my touch.<br />But their failing (which goaded me into this rhyme)<br />Is that all of them like me too much.<br /><br />It's not that I go in for Passion myself-<br />I find it a terrible bore-<br />But a virgin can have no respect for herself<br />In this day of the glorified whore.<br />So I call at young hopefuls' apartments galore,<br />But, when safe in a masculine clutch,<br />I imply my intentions, they show me the door,<br />And assure me they like me too much.<br /><br />Are they cowards, or heroes, these diffident males?<br />Do they brave every feminine shell?<br />Or is it my personal presence that fails<br />To intrigue them? I never can tell;<br />For experts have said I make love very well<br />Still I must lack the magical touch-<br />For they praise and admire and love me-but Hell!<br />They-all of them-like me too much.<br /><br />ENVOI:<br /><br />You, prince, who have hardily ventured to learn <br />Of the men I have vainly ensnared, <br />I've done as you bid me, and ask in return<br />Whether you, in their place, would have dared.<br />And this I implore you, don't ever get scared,<br />And when virgins entreat your fond touch-<br />Do whatever you feel that the Fates have prepared-<br />But don't tell them you like them too much.<br /><br />Anonymous, US, C. 1920Hellie Sinclairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03933713255844695337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7693683.post-44605620370208102512008-08-21T14:58:00.001-06:002008-08-21T15:09:33.636-06:00Yoga & Hellion the Stress AddictMy doctor yelled at me again. Okay, she didn't actually raise her voice. She smiled kindly as she said, "Your blood pressure is a concern." You're telling me. <span style="font-style: italic;">Please don't tell me to stop eating salt, please don't tell me to stop eating salt</span>.<br /><br />So I need to work on not eating as much salt. And eating more fruits and veggies. And losing more weight. And walking more <span style="font-style: italic;">every</span> day. And not stressing about every little thing every five seconds. Gah.<br /><br />After leaving the doc's office, rather depressed that I'm about two more doctor's visits away from being taken out back and being shot for my crappy processed-foods lifestyle and genetics (both sides of the family) like some nag that's outlived her purpose, I went to the library and contemplated skipping the gym. But thought after having written on my form I went to the gym three times a week, that I shouldn't lie so soon after committing it to paper.<br /><br />Holly was there after my BodyPump class. (I did both BodyPump and Yoga--does it matter? No, I still have a crappy HBP rating. <span style="font-style: italic;">Bastards</span>.) I was laying on my mat, enjoying the fact I hadn't collapsed and died in the last class, and she grinned: "Corpse pose already?"<br /><br />"Yep." Then I mentioned the doctor thing.<br /><br />"You need to stop stressing out, man."<br /><br />I just looked at her.<br /><br />"You're right. Look who I'm talking too. Maybe you need some Xanex. And make sure they write you a big enough prescription that I get some too."<br /><br />I've heard of worse ideas. Xanex is sounding mighty tempting at the moment.<br /><br />But I did yoga instead. Maybe I'll ask the doc at the next checkup. Which is in a month. Yeah, me.Hellie Sinclairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03933713255844695337noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7693683.post-87064729985891604342008-08-06T13:23:00.003-06:002008-08-06T13:24:36.956-06:00Song Lyric Wednesday: Our Favorite Pet<p class="MsoNormal">As sung by The Limeybirds, who you should totally Google and go watch their act live if you get the chance. These girls are hysterical--and the interpretative dance is worth the price of admission alone. When I grow up, I want to be Charity.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Some folks have a pussy, a budgee or a tit,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Some folks have a puppy to fill the house with sh….</p> <p class="MsoNormal">But me, I raise chickens, and I’ve a favorite one,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">He’s Dick, my little cockerel, and I don’t know where he’s gone.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Has anybody seen my cock,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">My big Rhode Island Red,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">He’s mostly pink</p> <p class="MsoNormal">With a little bit of blue</p> <p class="MsoNormal">And purple round his head.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">He’ll stand straight up in the morning</p> <p class="MsoNormal">And gives me quite a shock *cock-a-doodle-doo*</p> <p class="MsoNormal">[He’s a chicken.]</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Has anybody seen,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Anybody seen,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Anybody, anybody seen my cock</p> <p class="MsoNormal">He’s a plucky little fellow</p> <p class="MsoNormal">And he’ll stand straight up to me!</p> <p class="MsoNormal">He’ll raise his head,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Again and again,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">And make me utter, “WHEEEEE”</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Has anybody seen my cock,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">My big Rhode Island Red,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">He’s mostly pink</p> <p class="MsoNormal">With a little bit of blue</p> <p class="MsoNormal">And purple round his head.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">He’ll stand straight up in the morning</p> <p class="MsoNormal">And gives me quite a shock *cock-a-doodle-doo*</p> <p class="MsoNormal">[He’s a chicken.]</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Has anybody seen,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Anybody seen,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Anybody, anybody seen my cock</p> <p class="MsoNormal">His two enormous waddles hang down</p> <p class="MsoNormal">The best you’ll ever find,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Mister, you can stroke him if you like</p> <p class="MsoNormal">If you feel that way inclined.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Has anybody seen my cock,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">My big Rhode Island Red,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">He’s mostly pink</p> <p class="MsoNormal">With a little bit of blue</p> <p class="MsoNormal">And purple round his head.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">He’ll stand straight up in the morning</p> <p class="MsoNormal">And gives me quite a shock *cock-a-doodle-doo*</p> <p class="MsoNormal">[He’s a chicken.]</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Has anybody seen,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Anybody seen,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Anybody, anybody seen my cock</p> <p class="MsoNormal">But now he’s gone</p> <p class="MsoNormal">And flown the coop</p> <p class="MsoNormal">His life was such a strain</p> <p class="MsoNormal">He was always up…</p> <p class="MsoNormal">When I needed him.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Perhaps he’ll come again.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Has anybody seen my cock,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">My big Rhode Island Red,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">He’s mostly pink</p> <p class="MsoNormal">With a little bit of blue</p> <p class="MsoNormal">And purple round his head.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">He’ll stand straight up in the morning</p> <p class="MsoNormal">And gives me quite a shock *cock-a-doodle-doo*</p> <p class="MsoNormal">[He’s a chicken.]</p>Hellie Sinclairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03933713255844695337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7693683.post-11827291467503262082008-07-30T10:29:00.002-06:002008-07-30T10:35:46.508-06:00Poem of the DayHey, I was in the mood for poetry. Even if it was my poetry. I wrote this about 10 years ago (Sept 1998). <br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Happiness is a state of being in which one feels<br />characterized by good fortune and marked by pleasure….</span><br />Soft kisses, wispy as moonlight,<br />Then rest quietly<br />Against my breast as the shimmering caress<br />The sweet-plump curve of my hip—once, twice,<br />And the game is up.<br /><br />I stretch and groan, my belly stretching<br />Into me, his morning stubble raking in a teasing nuzzle<br />Down the slope of my neck…and<br />His teeth graze<br />Wantonly along the rise of my breast, nipping delicately.<br />And he pauses there until I open my<br />Eyes and smile, my hands reaching to cup his face<br />Between my palms, one leg creeping to curve over his hip.<br />His smile is voracious, carnivorous even…and he<br />Pounces, kitten-like, his silky hair tousled across his brow<br />And his muscles rippling…he smells of bedsheets and nights unbridled<br />And moments tender-rough…and I tug at his shoulders until he collapses<br />Mockingly into<br />A heap on top of me, laughing as he rolls me<br />Above him, my hair teasing as it spills around<br />Us. His hard warm hands<br />Rub up my back and curve firmly over my shoulders, tilting me as he<br />Drawing a slow wet kiss on my midriff.<br />The morning light dims and the bedrooms walls fuzz at their edges,<br />As we melt languidly into the bedsheets…and his fingers<br />Begin their roguish romp, sliding down and down, and I open my eyes<br />To see his impish salacious smile—and I laugh joyfully,<br />Thinking….<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Happiness is a state of being in which one feels<br />Characterized by good fortune and marked by pleasure.</span><br />Ah, ‘tis true, ‘tis true.<br /><br />P.S. Here's your quote of the day: "If you don't think sin is fun, you haven't been committing the right sins."--Billy Graham (attributed)Hellie Sinclairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03933713255844695337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7693683.post-51714021252490621842008-06-23T14:02:00.003-06:002008-06-23T14:20:06.624-06:00Heaven, Ice Cream & Mark TwainMy sister and I were discussing church yesterday. She was trying to talk me into going to her church. I said, I'm too liberal for a church; and I look for fights. I believe what I believe. Not to get all political or religious, but if you did a checklist of the democratic party, I'd probably agree with most of it...though most of the little ticks on the democracy side is, well, considered immoral by 99% of churches. (You know, hate the sin but not the sinner, which sorta drives me crazy since I still think you're not really loving the sinner at all. You're kinda being...self-righteous and better-than-thou towards someone you think you're better than. I call it conditional love. They'd love you for real if you were sinning like a big fat sinner you are.)<br /><br />Anyway, so was our discussion. And my sister says: "Well, it doesn't matter. There won't be any sex in Heaven."<br /><br />This is not news to me. 18 years as a Deacon's daughter, I'm well aware of all the fun things Heaven is without. To which my sibling added: "Well, it's better to spend eternity in a pleasant climate than in a fiery hell." I asked her if she was sure, since we were going to be without sex and all. I mean, ETERNITY is a long time to go without something. That's like getting to Heaven and there's no ice cream. "But you won't be hungry," they explain patiently; and frankly I have to think: "That's really not the point of ice cream, is it?" How often do we eat ice cream because it's a health food to help along as we're hungry? Exactly.<br /><br />You don't eat ice cream because you're hungry. You eat it because it tastes good.<br /><br />So it's really not the point that in Heaven we won't need sex because we won't need to procreate; and we'll all be brothers and sisters (and therefore it's all sorta incestuous anyway)--and well, you think it was bad now when you're in the middle of sex and you realize, "Hey, Jesus is watching." (Hey, it's happened.) I mean, in Heaven, he's really watching. We all are.<br /><br />Frankly I want to be wherever Mark Twain is. He has us nailed.<br /><br /><blockquote>...the human being, like the immortals, natually places sexual intercourse far and away above all other joys--yet he has left it out of his heaven! The very thought of it excites him; opportunity sets him wild; in this state he will risk life, reputation, everything--even his queer heaven itself--to make good that opportunity and ride it to the overwhelming climax. From youth to middle age all men and all women prize copulation above all other pleasures combined, yet it actually as I have said: it is not in their heaven; prayer takes its place.<br />- <i>Letters from the Earth</i></blockquote><i><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></i>Prayer. I don't know about you, but that does not sound like a pleasant way to pass an eternity. What would we have to pray about? We're already in heaven; everyone else is in heaven--if they didn't make it, we've been told prayers won't help them at this point. So now we're left with praise prayer, which I'm not saying God's not deserving, but I think he has a bit more to do with his time than say 'Thank you' a billion times a day as we continue to praise him. I mean, that's gotta be boring after a while...and he's a humble guy, so he's only going to tolerate that so long, I would think.<br /><br />Still.<br /><br />Clearly I can't hope for Heaven making up for the dearth of hanky-panky I have going on down here. So I guess I'll just have to catch up so when I'm in Heaven, I don't miss it so much. I should probably go ahead and eat all the ice cream I'm going to want as well.<br /><i><br /></i>I don't know about you but I'm going to my local Ben & Jerry's.<i><br /><br /></i>Hellie Sinclairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03933713255844695337noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7693683.post-39766443421723783402008-06-19T13:41:00.002-06:002008-06-19T13:43:59.841-06:006 Words or LessI think Marnee tagged me for this. Weeks ago, but I haven't thought of anything.<br /><br />Obsessed...no. Passionate. Yes, passionate.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Passionate, <span style="font-style: italic;">rebellious</span>, and freedom-seeking pirate</span></span><br /><br />There we go.<br /><br />Me in 6 words.Hellie Sinclairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03933713255844695337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7693683.post-15238987054965826712008-06-11T14:41:00.002-06:002008-06-11T14:45:07.911-06:00Taglines and CostumesAt the Bandits, we were asked to pick three words that describe your "voice." I picked irreverent, droll, and chick-littish. Then I said, well, not typical chick-lit, more like "small-town, Southern chick-lit." Terri now thinks that should be my tagline; and Cassondra (at the Bandits) also thinks that is the way I should pitch my work to agents/editors. What do you all think? And those of you who've read my stuff--do you think <span style="font-weight: bold;">small-town, Southern chick-lit</span> works?<br /><br />And I think I'm going to be Maid Marian (dressed as a sassy Robin Hood outfit with bows and arrows) for Halloween. I have the costume picked out; lot less material than usual; and I get weapons. Now if I can just find the right shoes!Hellie Sinclairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03933713255844695337noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7693683.post-65595548840240495292008-05-21T14:23:00.000-06:002008-05-21T14:24:46.367-06:00An Ideal Man Is Like....<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">A good bra</span>: supportive, uplifting, and makes us feel sexy</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p><span style="font-weight: bold;">The perfect pair of jeans</span>: a perfect fit where it counts, looks good dressed up or dressed down, and always highlights the best aspects of our ass</p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>Okay, these are lame. Do you guys have any?Hellie Sinclairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03933713255844695337noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7693683.post-61210491835996842702008-05-20T11:01:00.001-06:002008-05-20T11:01:35.079-06:00<center><img src="http://pages.prodigy.net/hpdevo/quiz/hermi.jpg" /><br /><a href="http://pages.prodigy.net/hpdevo/quiz"><span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:78%;">Which HP Kid Are You?</span></a></center>Hellie Sinclairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03933713255844695337noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7693683.post-9693289370265348102008-05-19T15:21:00.001-06:002008-05-19T15:22:31.687-06:00Quote of the DayThe entire sum of existence is the magic of being needed by just one other person. --Vi Putnam<br /><br />No idea who Vi Putnam is, or if in fact, this is a person...but damn, that's a great quotation.Hellie Sinclairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03933713255844695337noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7693683.post-29310433880302456302008-05-06T16:10:00.004-06:002008-05-06T16:22:56.171-06:00Movie Season Is Upon Us<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYqzqKmRihpq1dGLpETGjuir2UApBCGicOJ3QFTkkqrM4xGlYCRnrWH4weFY3fT3Neg5cSz7C4tLi0ydGVxrUXFdqSjp3hsM4ynSKry_fYVXweU3hVG55tFkTb5y3zwsN98iLv/s1600-h/indiana-jones-crystal-skull-teaser.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYqzqKmRihpq1dGLpETGjuir2UApBCGicOJ3QFTkkqrM4xGlYCRnrWH4weFY3fT3Neg5cSz7C4tLi0ydGVxrUXFdqSjp3hsM4ynSKry_fYVXweU3hVG55tFkTb5y3zwsN98iLv/s200/indiana-jones-crystal-skull-teaser.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197393886145478994" border="0" /></a>I love this time of year: the morel mushrooms are all over the place (and God, they're good) and the hype for summer movies is at full throttle.<br /><br />My former boss isn't intrigued by the movie selection this year, but man, I'm hyped. (Okay, not the in same sort of hyped I was last year at this time, when I was literally counting the minutes until I got to see Sweet Jack again...but there can be only one Pirates of the Caribbean. Or three, maybe four if they work out the details. Whatever.)<br /><br />Speaking of sequels I'll toss my money at, Indiana Jones is coming back to the big screen. Granted it's been almost 20 years and lately, Indy has been looking a bit worse for wear, but they're bringing back Marion, too. And there might be a "secret baby" (all grown up), being that Indy's sidekick in this movie is a 21 year old guy who has some "personal business" with Indy. That is one secret baby plot I can get behind. I've been dying for Marion and Indy to have some babies, and just the THOUGHT that might be what's going on has me excited! He's still got the hat and the whip...and that devilish look about him. AND he's an archaeologist! Hello, the older you get, the more interested he is in you.<br /><br />This weekend I'll be seeing <span style="font-style: italic;">Made of Honor</span>, which Patrick Dempsey has become my favorite movie leading man. Loved him in Enchanted, and I think he'll be just as enchanting here. This weekend, <span style="font-style: italic;">What Happens In Vegas</span> also will be out--and though I'm sure it's not going to win any awards, it still looks amusing. Campy and funny...and the same plot device we've seen in about three other Ashton Kutcher movies, but whatever. Looks amusing. Anything to distract me from my dreary life.<br /><br />In June, I've picked my "Get Out of Jail BAD Movie" Movie: <span style="font-style: italic;">The Love Guru</span>. I've already raved about this at the ship, because it features, at some point, Justin Timberlake in a speedo and sporting a pornstache. I'm so there, baby. I don't care how bad it is, it looks funny.<br /><br />Of course, Adam Sandler's summer movie comes out like a week before him (maybe two), and it looks like it has some merit as well. Politically incorrect, cheap laughs, and I'm sure an ending where he saves it from being a completely themeless movie.<br /><br />So it's clear I'm going to be spending a lot of my time at the movie theater this summer--which is good because I don't have AC anyway. <span style="font-weight: bold;">What movies will you be seeing and what are you excited about? </span>Hellie Sinclairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03933713255844695337noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7693683.post-66478916786316936452008-04-15T10:55:00.002-06:002008-04-15T10:58:00.710-06:00ContestNo, I'm not featuring a contest. But Amazon is.<br /><br />If you're a Harry Potter fan...or even an Amazon.com fan, this is the contest for you.<br /><br />Go <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/feature.html/ref=amb_link_6087512_1?ie=UTF8&docId=1000207461&pf_rd_m=ATVPDKIKX0DER&pf_rd_s=auto-sparkle&pf_rd_r=14W7XZS0JA7HVCSBCA5K&pf_rd_t=301&pf_rd_p=383361401&pf_rd_i=beedle%20the%20bard">here</a>, and play.<br /><br />No fee. Just be willing to be one of a billion entries that's filtered out...and take the chance that you might be one of the ones. I've already entered. Wish me luck...and meanwhile, I wish you luck. One of us should get the chance to go!<br /><br />And if you don't win the Grand Prize, there's always the second prize. :)Hellie Sinclairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03933713255844695337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7693683.post-1363798936448965272008-04-14T09:23:00.001-06:002008-04-14T09:23:18.352-06:00<p class="MsoNormal">It was a necessary war, they said.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">We must fight for truth.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">For justice.<span style=""> </span>For prosperity.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">And for these things, they sent my son</p> <p class="MsoNormal">To die for peace.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">My prayers fell on deaf ears,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">My fury at the senseless death ignored.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">And so my son returned to me,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">A broken toy soldier in a box,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">And I buried him with my heart.</p>Hellie Sinclairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03933713255844695337noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7693683.post-30116008848924937812008-04-03T12:13:00.003-06:002008-04-03T12:23:31.934-06:00The Deathman Cometh....You know you sometimes read these little new bits in the newspaper and laugh because they can't be true. And yet they are.<br /><br />This week, I read about a man who was on the way to the store to get some mushrooms for his pizza, who died when he swerved to miss hitting a deer. The clincher? He was riding a scooter.<br /><br />You laugh because you think, No way, what kind of bad luck are you under to have that happen? I mean, he was wearing a <span style="font-style: italic;">helmet</span>!<br /><br />To top this, this guy was in my yoga class. A marathon runner. Tight hamstrings--only wanted to do that yoga pose where you can put your fingers under your heels and straighten your hips to the ceiling. He was a wonderful guy. For one, he never was resentful for the fact me and my two yoga-partners-in-arms were complete gigglers; and if any of us were missing, he'd ask after that person by name. He was smart, interesting, and the loving father of three sons and loving husband of a professor here at the university. He was a very valued colleague; he worked for the chief counsel of the county. He ate right, I believe; exercise faithfully; and even yoga'd to relax. What does all this get you?<br /><br />Dead. From a rogue deer.<br /><br />So last night I yoga'd to the best of my ability, as we lit candles for him and played his favorite CD in class; then after we went out for ice cream (though we hadn't had supper yet.) Because you never know. You might not get a chance for dessert if you do it the "right way."<br /><br />So go get ice cream. Tell your friends you love them. Hug your children.<br /><br />The Grim Deer stalks, baby. It stalks.Hellie Sinclairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03933713255844695337noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7693683.post-4014074258452576552008-03-28T16:17:00.003-06:002008-03-28T16:51:24.454-06:00Watercooler Talk FridayThe boss is out of town today, so there were several moments in the day where my ass actually wiggled out of the office and talked to the co-workers.<br /><br />First topic of discussion was very important. I sent a co-worker to go look at the movie trailer for <a href="http://www.theloveguru.com">The Love Guru</a>. Clearly an Oscar-nomination worthy flick coming out in June--and if anyone should get the Oscar nod, it should be Justin Timberlake, who is going to be the sole reason I'm watching this flick. Plus the site had the quite memorable quote of the day: "If you're happy and you know it: think again." That's my mantra, baby, right there.<br /><br />The rest of it...well I was *going* to talk about but it got too long, too heavy, and displayed way too much of my ignorance about China-US relations. Clearly though I prefer to not worry about the direction the boat (America) is headed and will just play my fiddle to the best of my ability until the damned thing hits an iceberg and sinks itself.<br /><br />The question of the day boiled down to this: when it comes to November and you head to the polls are you going to be voting FOR someone? Or are you going to do what most of us will be doing, "I'm not voting to FOR someone, it's more like I'm voting AGAINST someone." None of us knew who we wanted to voted for. All the options frightened us. And frankly I'm going to think it's a miracle if Bush doesn't get us in another war before he leaves office.Hellie Sinclairhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03933713255844695337noreply@blogger.com8