Lazy Gilly was a flower child - all the summer calmly running wild - she'd be silly and her friends just smiled

This is actually a chalk sidewalk drawing by Julian Beever. Is that wild or what? And if you think the above looks three dimensional, have a look at these. I mean, they're all merely drawn on a flat pavement.





I love insane stuff like Julian's art. He's awesome, isn't he?

This just in: Lisa Kudrow is narrating the audio version of my friend Ellen Meister's novel! I am thrilled beyond belief for Ellen and as I've stated here many times in the past year, you are all going to be able to say "We knew her when!" once her book comes out this August. In fact, you should all pre-order it right now right here!

Hey, due to popular demand and Pearl Jam fans coming at me from all over the world, some of whom do not easily read or speak English, I've made the You Tube movie with Eddie Vedder and my son Eric (and Rock School Hall of Famers Larry Allen, Joey Randazzo, and Julia Ranier) a permanent link on the right hand side, directly under the Amazon book links. I also permanently linked the "Robin Slick and Neil Gaiman Together at Last" post brought to you with the help of my pal David Niall Wilson because every time I look at it, I laugh my ass off.

So how cool is this -- an excerpt from Three Days in New York City is up on Playgirl Magazine and my bio and an interview will also be in the magazine in a couple of months.

Yeah, that makes me happy.

Speaking of happy, Happy Birthday to Ms. Carolyn Pagnotta, my son's girlfriend, who turns 18 today and oh boy, do I wish I were Carolyn because Eric has some awesome things planned for her. Obviously I can't spill anything now but expect a full report next week.


Once again, Happy Birthday, Carolyn!

So I'm not sure if this is (my luck) something that's been floating around the internet in a lot of writing circles for years but I saw it for the first time yesterday and I thought I would share it here because it cracked me up:

Says an English professor from the University of Phoenix:

"Today we will experiment with a new form called the tandem story. The process is simple. Each person will pair off with the person sitting to his or her immediate right. As homework tonight, one of you will write the first paragraph of a short story. You will e-mail your partner that paragraph and send another copy to me. The partner will read the first paragraph and then add another paragraph to the story and send it back, also sending another copy to me. The first person will then add a third paragraph, and so on back-and-forth. Remember to re-read what has been written each time in order to keep the story coherent. There is to be absolutely NO talking outside of the e-mails and anything you wish to say must be written in the e-mail. The story is over when both agree a conclusion has been reached."

The following was actually turned in by two of my English students: Rebecca (last name deleted), and Gary (last name deleted).

THE STORY:

(first paragraph by Rebecca)
At first, Laurie couldn't decide which kind of tea she wanted. The chamomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he liked chamomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him too much her asthma started acting up again. So chamomile was out of the question.

(second paragraph by Gary)
Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than the neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom he had spent one sweaty night over a year ago. "A.S. Harris to Geostation 17," he said into his transgalactic communicator. "Polar orbit established. No sign of resistance so far..." But before he could sign off a bluish particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship's cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat and across the cockpit.

(Rebecca)
He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who had ever had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4. "Congress Passes Law Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel," Laurie read in her newspaper one morning. The news simultaneously excited her and bored her. She stared out the window, dreaming of her youth, when the days had passed unhurriedly and carefree, with no newspapers to read, no television to distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things around her. "Why must one lose one's innocence to become a woman?" she pondered wistfully.

(Gary)
Little did she know, but she had less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands of miles above the city, the Anu'udrian mother ship launched the first of its lithium fusion missiles. The dim-witted wimpy peaceniks who pushed the Unilateral Aerospace disarmament Treaty through the congress had left Earth a defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were determined to destroy the human race. Within two hours after the passage of the treaty the Anu'udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying enough firepower to pulverize the entire planet. With no one to stop them, they swiftly initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion missile entered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his top-secret mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam, felt the inconceivably massive explosion, which vaporized poor, stupid, Laurie and 85 million other Americans. The President slammed his fist on the conference table. "We can't allow this! I'm going to veto that treaty! Let's blow 'em out of the sky!"

(Rebecca)
This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic, semi-literate adolescent.

(Gary)
Yeah? Well, you're a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium. "Oh, shall I have chamomile tea? Or shall I have some other sort of F--KING TEA??? Oh no, I'm such an air headed bimbo who reads too many Danielle Steele novels!"

(Rebecca) Asshole.

(Gary) Bitch

(Rebecca) F__K YOU - YOU NEANDERTHAL!!!

(Gary) Go drink some tea - whore.

(TEACHER) A+ - I really liked this one.

I dunno -- frat humor, maybe, but it made me smile. And really, that's all I ask for these days.

And P.S. - the title of this post? Lyrics to Friday, by Joe Jackson.

She don't care no more, she gets paid on Friday. Does that ring a bell? Awesome song. I've been pulling out the golden oldies lately and enjoying myself to no end.

Later,
xo