Hello? ¿Bueno? ¿Bueno?

 I really should be writing, but... I just realized I'm due for a new cell phone.  By the way, I hate smart phones.  They're too smart for me.  You need a Doctorate to figure how to use those things.  That, or you have to actually read the instructions.  "What language is this?!"  I don't have time for that.  I'm supposed to be writing, remember?  "Honey, put down that script and do the grocery list."  If only I'd paid more attention in school,  I'd be smarter and wiser and able to operate those fancy contraptions... "Somebody help me!"  My parents should've found me a tutor back in the day... "I can take pictures, too?"  Simply amazing... Pretty soon there'll be a phone that performs oil changes every 3,000 miles... "What's this thing called texting?  Isn't that illegal except in Nevada?"

What if...

What if I had never decided to be a writer.  Then maybe I'd be free to do other stuff, like visit China.  "Do they serve Mexican food there?"  I'd drop in on the panda bears, tempted to feed them... "Psssst... Mr. Bear, you ever try a burrito?"  But I can't do that.  "Why?"  I'm too busy trying to come up with good characters, compelling story lines, industry-approved fasteners.  "I'm sorry, Sir, we'll have to execute you-- you used  the wrong brads..." I tell you, writing's no walk in the park.  It's bear eat bear out there... "Unfortunately, we don't accept unsolicited material..."  Excuuuuuse me!  "You're accusing me of solicitation?!"  Maybe I should try something more stable, like acting... Yeah, maybe I will... By the way, what's a headshot?

Oscar Nominations

I'm glad one of my scripts wasn't nominated for Best Original Screenplay.  I'm thrilled, actually.  I would've had to go in search of a tux.  No, thanks.  It would've brought back flashbacks of my high school prom.  "What were you doing in that tux, young man?" Great.  Knowing the tuxedo shop, they'd charge me extra for the food stains.  "Waddya mean you ate ketchup with a fork?"  A nomination would've meant I had to wear nice shoes, too.  I don't think so.  The last time I shined my shoes, Nixon was in office... All that shoe polish stuck underneath my nails, and then there's the fingernails..."I can't take it off!"  Then to have to walk the Red Carpet.... Please... All those microphones stuck in my face... "Is it true you failed 'Typing' in Junior High?"  Please...  "Why were you embarrassed about showering at school?"  Yes, I'm more convinced than ever that an Oscar nomination isn't worth the trouble... "Pass the ketchup, will ya?"

Go back and walk!

Okay, so we get a treadmill.  For what?  To run away from my creditors?  "Hey, get back here, you!"  I just don't need any distractions right now.  None.  "Run, Forrest, run!"  I need to write. How can I do that if there's exercise equipment staring me in the face?  I mean, if there's a way that I can run while working on the laptop, fine.  Otherwise, that treadmill's just going to bring stress into my life and you know what the results will be-- WRITER'S BLOCK!  Great...  Maybe if I learn to balance the laptop on my head while I'm working out... "I smell something burning..."  Maybe not such a good idea... Well, I better get back to writing that script-- right after I visit the refrigerator... "Expiration dates are so overrated..." Til next time... "I don't remember salami tasting this way before..."

My First Time...

Hi... I hope you all enjoy the new blog... Look at me, all nervous and stuff.  I'm actually sweating... You can do this, take it easy.  Put your hands on the keyboard, one finger at a time... "Thatta boy!"  Nice and easy...  Yeah, I CAN do this.  I know I can, I know I can... Mom and Dad are going to be so proud.  "My baby's all grown up!"  Thank you, Mama.  "Why, my boy's one of them there authors."  Ah, Dad, you're making me blush...