Rants, Raves, & Random Thoughts

Shameless self-promotion of my writing skills or lack there of.

Thursday, November 30, 2006

Coming to a Store Near You...

I received an interesting email from my Publisher the other day. He has a new business model for 2007 and he has a new vision of how to distribute my new book, Drums of the Nunne’hi when it’s released after the first of the year.

Here is an excerpt from the website that I found particularly interesting:

The 100-page short and focused book imprint (Fat Cat Media) will be not only targeted towards the Internet and brick and morter book store market, but also towards the impulse-buying market of counter displays by the check-out lanes of local discount, department stores and supermarkets, where consumers will be exposed to them and hopefully, buy out each printing we offer. Negotiations have already begun with retail giants such as WalMart, Target and many supermarket chains.

If that news wasn’t exciting enough, A sneak preview of my book is available now. The “Un” Real Texas by Steve Bussiere just so happens to have the first chapter of, Drums of the Nunne’hi stashed away in the back of it. So, slide by, pick up a copy (available in .pdf as well if you would rather download it). I had the privilege of reading this yesterday and I have to say, it was quite funny. I think you’ll enjoy it.



These are exciting times…

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

Dar-Wednesday

It’s time for another installment of The Darwin Awards.

(21 December 1997, Texas) A Dallas man who was exposing himself to passing traffic died Friday night. Police were alerted by a motorist who had spotted Richard Hollis, 47, standing naked on a railroad trestle. When officers arrived, Hollis was standing under the trestle, still naked. As officers approached, he grabbed his clothes and ran back onto the railroad trestle. He leapt from the trestle, apparently aiming for a concrete support underneath, but missed and fell 35 feet to the ground. He died at Parkland hospital an hour later.



Monday, November 20, 2006

Run, Shelly, Run

It was a chilly fall morning in Tulsa, not uncommon for November. The day started out like many others. Woke up early, for a Sunday anyway, to the smell of coffee. My wife and I exchanged excited glances as we sipped from our steaming cups of Joe. We tried not to talk about what was to come, though it was all that was on either of our minds. There was to be enough pressure for the day without dwelling on the whatifs and possibilities.

By 6:45 a.m. we were dressed for the occasion and out the door. We circled around downtown, navigating side streets because the main thoroughfares were blocked off. By the time I dropped her off near the starting line, I think I was as nervous as she was. This was the day, the culmination of months of training. This was the day that we would find out what she was made of, if she trained enough, if her body would be strong enough. This was the day of her first marathon, The Route 66 Marathon.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I’m here to tell you…my wife is an amazing woman. Not only did she complete the entire 26.2 mile course, but the last mile was uphill and into a head wind. She did all this in just over 4 ½ hours. She RAWKS!

I can’t tell you how proud I am of her. This is truly a great accomplishment.

She is in healing mode now. As you might guess, she is quite sore. Her body held up, but it is protesting the abuse. So, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go tend to her.

My Baby’s Big Day

Thursday, November 16, 2006

Give it a whirl...

In the absence of personal time to create my own post this week, I send you elsewhere for your reading pleasure…

David Niall Wilson is conducting an experiment concerning Technorati Rankings. He’s sees a trend and after a bit of thought I tend to agree with him. Stop by and see what his take on the matter is.

Saturday, November 11, 2006

Soldier to Soldier

To my brothers and sisters who have fallen in service to our country, I salute you. To those of you still fighting the good fight, Hoorah. My thoughts and heart go with you. Thank you for preserving my rights.

I have enjoyed working at Syntroleum. I gave nearly 8 years of my life to honing the technology and moving the company forward. I’ve been part of several historic moments in the production of alternative fuels. There have been a few bad times to go with the good, but overall my experience with them will be remembered fondly.

I quit not out of frustration, not out of spite or even passion. I was presented with an offer I couldn’t refuse from another company. So, I’ll close one chapter of my career, take a deep breath (and a couple of days) and dive into the next one on November 27th.

My posts my be a little dodgy around here for the next week (like they haven’t been for the past several) as I spend my remaining time with Syntroleum tying up loose ends and making the transition go as smoothly as possible for them.

To my friends and mentors I leave behind, you will be missed. Thank you and good night.

Friday, November 10, 2006

Changewinds

I just quit my job today. Update to follow...

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

Dar-Wednesday

It’s time for another installment of The Darwin Awards.

Alan Hall, 48, was found collapsed on the front lawn of his brother's Fairfield home on December 5, 8 hours after his penis had been cut off at the base. Paramedics rushed Hall to North Bay Medical Center, where surgeons were unsuccessful in their attempts to reattach his severed organ.

Hall blamed the maiming on a woman named Brenda, whom he met at a local gas station the previous night. He brought Brenda to his trailer, parked in the driveway of his brother's Fairfield home, and had sex. Around 3AM, the woman mentioned revenge and cut off his penis with a razor-sharp hobby knife, then fled the trailer on foot. Details of the attack were sketchy, and police were unsure why Hall could not defend himself. Fairfield police Lieutenant William Gresham said Hall may have been using drugs.

A heated manhunt for Brenda ensued. She was described as a 42-year-old white female, 5' 7" and 135 pounds, dressed in a white blouse, navy blue jacket and blue slacks, and possibly driving a brown Ford F350 pickup truck.

Meanwhile, after being discharged from the hospital on Monday, Hall drove off in a pickup hitched to his trailer and disappeared. Detectives were eager to interview him again, but were unable to locate him due to his transient lifestyle.

More intriguing details began to emerge.

Hall was arrested during the 1970's for drug possession and drunk driving. In 1982 he was arrested for taking his young daughter out of state. Psychological tests suggested that he suffered permanent mental trauma while serving with the U.S. Navy in Vietnam, causing blackouts and alcoholism. His ex-wife described him as a packrat who enjoyed taking trips in his mobile trailer home.

In 1983 Hall was convicted of voluntary manslaughter of a 23-year-old Suisun City woman found strangled in a car parked at a local Denny's restaurant on 17 February. Hall confessed to the murder, saying that she taunted him about his inability to achieve an erection when he tried to have sex with her. His statement was ruled inadmissible because of improper police interrogation techniques, and prosecutors agreed to let Hall plead guilty to voluntary manslaughter. He served half of a six-year prison term.

Police speculated that the woman who cut off his penis may have been carrying out a 14-year-old vendetta for the slaying of her friend. But the truth was even stranger.

When Hall was finally located and interviewed on Thursday, he admitted that he cut off his own penis. A voice stress analyzer indicated that he was telling the truth. "At this point, there is no evidence that a crime occurred," police Lieutenant William Gresham said in a press release. "The case is being reclassified as an injured person report." Hall may face misdemeanor charges for filing a false police report.
Ironically, Alan Hall works as a pipe-fitter, according to court records.


Tuesday, November 07, 2006

No Way...

An old cowhand came riding into town on a hot, dry, dusty day. The local sheriff watched from his chair in front of the saloon as the cowboy wearily dismounted and tied his horse to the rail. The cowboy then moved slowly to the back of his horse, lifted its tail, and placed a big kiss where the sun don't shine. He dropped the horse's tail, stepped up on the walk and aimed toward the swinging doors of the saloon.
"Hold on there, Mister," said the sheriff. "Did I just see what I think I saw?"

"Reckon you did, Sheriff. I got me some powerful chapped lips."

"And that cures them?" the Sheriff asked.

"Nope, but it keeps me from lickin' 'em."

Friday, November 03, 2006

Friday 55

Clouds roll in, a storm on the hunt. It will not rest until it can release its pent up energy. Shadows spread, chewing up streets, marking its territory as the power builds. Darkness rules, the sun turns away, unable to bear witness. With a mighty roar, it unleashes it’s fury, cleansing the world once more.

Thursday, November 02, 2006

Fun With Fiction

I see him, gliding from shop to shop, Barnes & Noble, B-Dalton, Camelot Music. He’s pathetic and weak, with his superficial smile and hollow words. Who does he think he is? If he would stop being so full of himself for a moment and cast a glance behind him, he might catch the clerks rolling their eyes as he walks away. He’s a blemish, a flaw, a stain on society. He’s everything that’s wrong with this world. He’s-- He’s-- He’s stopping at the food court? Holding that smile so long must have caused him to work up quite the appetite.

The Golden Wok, huh? Good Moo Shoo there. I bet he’s one of those pompous bastards that-- yep, there he goes, he’s nabbed a pair of chopsticks. Look at him. What a scumbag, he’s trying to talk the lady at the register out of charging him the dime for them. What an ass. She caved, probably just to get him out of her sight. Honestly, who eats with chopsticks in the food court? Someone who thinks there better than the rest of us, that’s who.

What a pig! Look at him shoveling it in. He’s hovering over the carton like a momma bird protecting her young. Of course, he can use chopsticks; he’s holding the box right next to his mouth. I’d like to take one of those chopsticks and shove it-- What is he looking at?

Oh, shit! Why is he staring at me? Look away. Be calm. Let’s order something. Get the Moo Shoo. He’ll think you were just interested in his food. Now, this lady’s smile at me is genuine. She gave me two sets of chopsticks for free. I didn’t even have to ask. I reached for them and she turned away. What a nice lady.

Now, where do I sit? Not too close, if he’s smart he’s watching to see what I do right now. Not too far though, I wouldn’t want him to slink away. I have a public service to perform here. I need to observe him. See what makes him tick. See the effect he has on those around him. I have to learn so that I might teach.

I guess lunch is over, he’s on the move. What the hell does he think he’s doing? He just cleaned his own table. He’s so vile. Doesn’t he know that if everyone starts doing that, there be no jobs for minimum wage workers? How are these kids supposed to put themselves through college if people like him eliminate their jobs?

Oh, I guess he’s had his fill of shopping, he’s making a beeline for the door. I wish this parking lot was smaller. What if he sees me again? I made it to my car first. What does a guy like that drive? Figures, he’s in a gas guzzling SUV, a Trailblazer; a God Damned, overpriced, gas sucking, pollution riddled, global killer.

He drives like my Grandma, letting people pass him left and right. What a moron. He sickens me.

Where the hell is this guy going? We’ve been driving forever. Shit, he must live out in the Boonies. Heh, that might not be such a bad thing. Is that--? Hell yeah, it’s a fucking cow. We just passed a pasture with cows and shit.

Finally, he’s pulling into a driveway. Wow, that’s a big house. Two stories. I bet he bought it just to show how much better he is than his neighbors. I’ll pull around the block here and see if I can-- Oh, shit! The garage door is closing, can I make it under without him seeing me? Hell yeah, I’m in. I’ll give him a few minutes to get settled.

His house smells like vanilla. I bet he burns those candles to keep it like that. What’s that sound. Rat-at-tat-tat. It’s coming from around the corner. Maybe if I’m quiet, I can sneak a peek without him noticing. Ah, it’s typing. He’s sitting at the computer. I’ll go slow. He looks like he’s into what he’s writing. There’s no way he’ll here me.

Oh, God. It’s so hard not to bust out laughing. I’m standing right behind him and he doesn’t even know it.

What the hell? He’s writing down everything I’ve thought since I saw him. Where’s those God Damned chopsticks. I’m gonna put an end to this once and--

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Dar-Wednesday

It’s time for another installment of The Darwin Awards. If at first you don’t succeed…

(December 1997, Pennsylvania) A prisoner in the new Allegheny County Jail in Pittsburgh attempted to evade his punishment by engineering an escape from his confinement. Jerome constructed a hundred-foot rope of bedsheets, broke through a supposedly shatter-proof cell window, began to climb to freedom down his makeshift ladder.

It is not known whether his plan took into account the curiosity of drivers on the busy street and Liberty Bridge below. It certainly did not take into account the sharp edges of the glass, the worn nature of the bedsheet, nor the great distance to the pavement. The bottom of the knotted bedsheet was 86 feet short of the ground. But our hero did not reach the end of the rope. The window pane sliced through the weak cloth and dropped him to his untidy demise 150 feet below.
But wait there's more!

(3 November 1998) Apparently the prison rumor of the previous death did not reach a prisoner who was awating transfer to federal penitentary one year later. He tied eight bedsheets together and rappelled from his seventh-floor window, only to find the rope fell 25 feet short of the ground. Luckier than Jerome, he merely fractured his ankle and scraped his face.

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