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A place to keep my entries for various contests and challenges |
| This book is not only a place to create, keep, and store contest entries, it's also a log of items that may one day become something more. |
| What erotic stories, books, pictures, movies, art, etc. have you read/seen and would you recommend to others? Doesn't this qualify as self-incriminating evidence? Oh well, I guess if you're ashamed of it, you shouldn't do it. Right? I have read some erotic material, seen a few erotic movies, and even written a couple of erotic stories of my own. Although one is probably multi-genre as it also is a comedy. I have them set to private now, as a result of getting some negative feedback. One or two comments even instructed me not to reveal my private life publicly. (All my stories are fictional unless otherwise stated) As far as what books I've read, I don't remember the titles or the author. Both books were part of a series or trilogy, and it was something like a highlander or outlander. I don't even know where the books came from, but I needed something to read and found them on the bookshelf. It's been many years since then, and why I don't remember. As for movies, again it's been many years. My younger brother liked to watch erotic movies and I would watch them when visiting him. Most were just crap with a lot of sex and nudity, but there were a few that were also entertaining, but again, I don't remember the titles. I guess I'm not really into erotica as far as reading or watching, since more times than not, it's not entertaining, it's just smut. But, who knows, perhaps a few others will pick this prompt and share some actual, enjoyable erotic titles that I can investigate. A proud member of "WdC SuperPower Reviewers Group"  "Reading soothes the soul, writing sets it free." T.J. |
| If you could change the taste of something, what would it be and what's its new flavor? When I first read this prompt, I thought, "Todd Gammit! This is going to be tough." But then it hit me like Anita Grabbit (fictional name, true story) did in high school when she bent over in a skirt and I succumbed to temptation. What was I saying? Oh yeah, if I could change the taste of something it would have to be chicken. Before I get on to what chicken's new flavor will be (I need to think about this) I would like to explain why I would change the flavor. It's really quite simple, I'd change it because anytime you ask someone what something tastes like, they say chicken. Once you know how this got started you'll understand; it was a misunderstanding that's been carried down through the generations. Eons ago a cave-dweller, Gogg, struck a large bird with a stick and ate it. The other cave-dwellers grunted, "What's it taste like?" Gogg thought hard about this as he ripped off another bite and choked on a bone. "Chicken -- chicken!" They all thought he was saying it tasted like chicken, but in truth, he was crying out that he was choking. Luckily, Gogg got the bone out and survived, but ever since that day... Well, you get it now. Anyhow, what would be a good flavor for the change? Since so many things taste like choking chicken, I figured it would be nice if chicken tasted more unique, like say armadillo! A proud member of "WdC SuperPower Reviewers Group" "Reading soothes the soul, writing sets it free." T.J. |
| 1) Which are worse, local or national politics/politicians? 2) If you won the lottery, raffle, or gamble (e.g. slot machine), what percentage would you give to charity, if any, and what type of charity would it be? 3) What things are you not willing to ever compromise and willing to battle to the end over, and why? These are the three prompts I have to choose from, which is fine. However, trying to write very much about any of them could be a wee bit difficult. For example: 1) Yes! 2) None! 3) Freedom; self-explanatory. Sure I could go more into depth I suppose, but on which one? Politics are corrupt, as are politicians. Personally, I try not to get into conversations about politics and religion. Too many people get butt-hurt over it. As for number 3, Yes freedom is important to me, but, at my age, how would I battle over it? Rioting? I find that to be hypocrisy. So, I reckon it's number 2. If I won a large sum of money I would enjoy it and not worry about who and how much to give away. It's not that I don't like helping people, I do. But to find a charity that actually gives my donation to others without skimming some off of it is not worth my time. Currently, I do try and help others less fortunate than myself by donating various items to the local churches and through the school. If, and quite often I do, have items that are still good, but I no longer need them, they go to one of the churches or the school to be passed on to someone who can get some use out of it. I received a new Kindle Fire for Christmas with a larger screen because my eyes are not as strong as they used to be. My old Kindle Fire was still in great shape, fairly new (a couple of years old), and no longer needed, so I did a factory reset and passed it along, similarly, I did the same with my previous laptop when I got a new one. I don't know for sure if someone needy ended up with these items; Whoever took them may have more income than I. But, at least I'm convinced that nobody skimmed off of them in order to receive some ridiculous salary. I used to do this through the Salvation Army, but when an acquaintance of mine had to serve some time in county lockup for driving while drunk, he volunteered whenever possible to get out of his cell for a while. At least once a week, he volunteered at the Salvation Army, loading up donations to take to the local landfill because they did not have room for everything and only wanted the items that would fetch the most money! So, I thought, after he informed me that some of the clothing, furniture, and various other items I had donated were hauled to the dump, why bother? I cut out the middling middle man as much as possible and try to put my donations into the hands of people who will get some use from them. A proud member of "WdC SuperPower Reviewers Group" "Reading soothes the soul, writing sets it free." T.J. A proud member of "WdC SuperPower Reviewers Group" "Reading soothes the soul, writing sets it free." T.J. |
| Have you ever gotten tipsy, inebriated, or drunk? If you remember what happened, tell us about it. If you don't remember, make something up. If you never were, explain why you shouldn't be banned from the Banana Bar. This prompt is kind of in-depth (not any more than some of the others) so I thought about writing this after a few cocktails this evening. However, I doubt I would get inebriated since I'm tired and would end up falling asleep long before drunkenness encroaches. Ah, inebriation; intoxication, under the influence, tipsy, bombed, plastered, smashed, three sheets in the wind, tanked, hammered, pickled, soused, drunk as a skunk, and the list goes on. I think a person could write quite a piece just on all the various terminology for drunk. But that's not what the prompt asks. It inquires if I have ever been drunk. Yes, I have gotten sauced a time or more. Have I ever been so drunk I couldn't remember? No, I have not. I have had difficulty remembering for a while, but once the fog clears, the memories return; they're not crystal clear, but they're there. Since I've gotten juiced more than once, I would have to work through the instances to explain what happened. In most cases, not a lot; I came, I drank, I went home. If I was planning on drinking enough to get schnockered, I would drink at home and save myself the trouble of calling for a ride home or paying for a taxi. There was one instance where I got s***faced with my two sons and daughter. We were at home and enjoying a pleasant evening with a fire and some drinks. After the fire died down, we retired to the house and engaged in some board games as we continued to consume alcoholic beverages. Of course, there was a lot of laughing and screwing around as we all got tanked. Then, an argument commenced over some trivial part of the game, which was even funnier since we were all fully stewed by this time. I decided the best way to settle the argument was by getting out the boxing gloves and stepping outside. The two older kids put on the gloves, I reffed and my daughter watched. It didn't last long, since they were both having difficulty standing up. It was hilarious. After a few minutes, they decided I should put on the gloves so they could laugh. Being totally sloshed, I thought this was a good idea, I put on a pair of gloves and the oldest and I went at it. Of course, neither of us managed to land any punches to amount to anything, so the middle son took his turn. After he fell twice, he took the gloves off and crawled off to the side. His equilibrium was defunct enough that he just could not maintain his footing on the slope of the yard. That left my youngest, my daughter. She put the gloves on and stepped up to the battle. I took it easy at first, not wanting to injure her, but after she nailed me with a right hook that left my head spinning (more than it already was) and my lip bleeding, I decided that maybe taking it easy wasn't the wisest choice. I swung, she blocked, I swung again and as my arm arched towards her, she landed a left to my face as she ducked under my sedated swing. Before I could recoup myself, her right landed squarely in my face. Being on a hill, looped, and slammed hard in the face, I went over backward. It hurt even through the numbing effects of the alcohol, so I took the gloves off and threw in the towel. We all laughed as we staggered back inside for another drink, then put ourselves to bed. Everyone was feeling under the weather come morning, but I felt even worse with my bottom lip swollen to almost double its normal size, but that was nothing compared to my black and purple, swollen almost shut, left eye... A proud member of "WdC SuperPower Reviewers Group" "Reading soothes the soul, writing sets it free." T.J. |
| In accounting, a mechanical pencil was required to keep the entries in the books fine and readable. A wooden pencil worked as long as it was sharp, but it would soon become dull, the lines would widen, and things got more difficult to fit into small spaces and more difficult to read. That meant you were constantly stopping to sharpen the wooden pencil. On the other hand, a mechanical pencil is always the same diameter and the lines remain consistent. Sure, you do have to click it every now and again to feed the graphite out, and in time, you must refill it. But it’s still far better than a wooden pencil for this type of work. At times, I like to go “old-school” with my writing, especially with poetry; I’m talking about freehand writing on paper with a pencil. I have used pens at times, but my preference is a pencil. Both wooden and mechanical work well, but again, there’s that dulling lead (why do they still refer to it as lead, it’s not), making my writing more difficult to read. If you’ve ever seen my handwriting, you’d know, it’s already difficult to read. So again, a mechanical pencil is my choice. Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against wooden pencils, they just don’t serve my purpose. They work great for my wife, who draws and sketches; she prefers wooden over mechanical. And, if one is ever writing late into the night and attacked by a vampire the wooden pencil could save your life. No matter how fancy your mechanical pencil, a plastic tube stabbed into a vampire’s heart is only going to irk it. That’s why I always have at least a couple of sharpened wooden pencils on hand… A proud member of "WdC SuperPower Reviewers Group" "Reading soothes the soul, writing sets it free." T.J. |
| What should we do with all the monkey grease (tobacco-juice)? There are a couple of options open since we cannot flush it or put it in the trash. My first thoughts were to add a bit of gunpowder, a rattle-snake head, and some rubbing alcohol to each barrel, let it age, and then bottle it up for bottom-shelf whiskey. But of course, that could get the bar shut down. A safer option would be to pour the nasty, volatile, mixture of soggy chew and juice into a cement mixer, add in some sand, rock, dirt from the floors, hair from the drains, and cement. Mix this all up really well and use it to patch all the holes in the parking lot and foundation. Of course, it would have to be done after dark and while it's still cold so the smell doesn't spread. This, however, sounds like a lot of work. Besides, who's going to mix and work the abominable sludge? Maybe if we found some desperate enough people and got them good and drunk. Even if that worked, being drunk, they would likely have the parking lot in even worse shape after they finished. Oh, I hadn't thought about it, but what if it seeped into the groundwater before it set and contaminated the site's drinking water? On second thought, scrap that idea. That leaves my other idea, but it's a bit risky. We would have to paint all the barrels that butt-ugly military yellow. Next, we need to either paint radioactive symbols or find some decals  to put on each barrel. Once they've been camouflaged to look like real nuclear waste we can put them out in the ally behind the shed and call Homeland Security and report it. They'll take care of the rest. Oh, did I mention we need to do this after dark and have surgical gloves on? Yeah, that would be a good idea.A proud member of "WdC SuperPower Reviewers Group" "Reading soothes the soul, writing sets it free." T.J. |
| What are you doing to save the environment from overuse, pollution, or affecting the climate? I suppose we could get rid of a lot of those annoying people to prevent overusing and polluting the environment. Still, then again, I suppose it's morally wrong to let these people destroy themselves by removing warning labels and letting nature take its course. I do try to restrict pollution as much as is feasibly possible, I don't litter, and if I come across someone else's (see above) garbage when I'm out enjoying (but not overusing it), I'll pick it up and dispose of them the garbage properly. As for the effects of climate, sorry, I have no power over that. I wish I could alter and change the weather/climate to suit my needs and desires, but I somehow believe this would not be good for the environment or other people who prefer different weather. I recently read an interesting article that showed how we are still recovering from the last ice age. It stated that the signal an ice age is over is when the polar ice melts. Of course, they showed documentation and reasoning of how this has happened a few times in the history of our world, the ice age begins, the ice age ends, the polar caps are thawed, and then nature repeats the process. That means, when the last ice age began to subside, people noticed the receding ice and rising water levels with great shock and in their primitive means, began their own attempts of stopping global warming! I wonder if this isn't how our race has managed to advance in technology over our existence. Think about it, Gogg yells at Borg, "Stop pooping on top of the ground, use the hole I dug so we can end global warming." I wonder, is this why we have self-cleaning toilets? I really don't see the need for them, although it can be a nasty job to clean them if you don't keep ahead of the foulness. I must admit, I haven't even researched the self-cleaning toilet. I don't think it's anything except a fad. Think about it, who needs a self-cleaning toilet? What we do need is a quick-connect/disconnect toilet. That would make a lot more sense. What do you mean, "Why?" If we had quick connect/disconnect toilets, we could simply grasp the sides, lift them off their mounts, and stick them in the dishwasher... Problem solved! A proud member of "WdC SuperPower Reviewers Group" "Reading soothes the soul, writing sets it free." T.J. |
| Which side of the sidewalk is the proper side to walk on and why since it is always a two-way path? As far as I know, you can walk on either side of the sidewalk. But as I ponder this question, I remember my grandma telling me to use the sidewalk going in the same direction as the traffic. I mean this; according to grandma, I should walk in the same direction as the traffic is moving, not towards it. Just the opposite of walking on the side of the road, where you do walk towards oncoming traffic, but never with it. Even though she told us this, I do not remember her following this rule. I do remember us little ones had to walk on inside away from the road, she would walk closest to the road. It was the same with my parents and older siblings, the oldest always walked closest to the road. I remember it was to keep us safe by giving the older walker more time to grab us if we tried to walk into traffic. This doesn't answer what direction, however. As I look back, it didn't make any difference, we walked in either direction, with no right side and no wrong side. The only time that it made a difference was when meeting other people, then we would always move to the right side. They would also move to the right, thereby creating room for both to pass. If that's some kind of unwritten rule or not, I do not know. But, I do still move to the right when I meet people. Most often, they do the same and everyone is happy. A proud member of "WdC SuperPower Reviewers Group" "Reading soothes the soul, writing sets it free." T.J. |
| Word count = 296 (This monologue is strictly fiction) My wife and I were having problems. Part of it was work, I was away more than home. Even so, it provided me time to reflect and get a break, so when my sister-in-law, Stacie, came to visit I thought it would do the same for Brenda. It did, Brenda was happier than she'd been in a long time. They had plenty of time to visit, reminisce, shop, and go sightseeing. Everything was pleasant; life was good until Stacie asked to see the Black Hills. Brenda didn’t like riding on mountain roads, there was no way she was going to drive them. Stacie offered to, but Brenda didn’t trust her and refused to go. Unfamiliar with the area and not knowing where anything was, Stacie asked if I would drive. I had the weekend off, so I agreed. But, this, made Brenda jealous, she was in my face snapping about how fast I did things for Stacie, but not her. This wasn’t true. I tried explaining, but the more I talked, the angrier she became. No more was said until Saturday when it was time to go. Brenda refused! I thought about canceling, but before I could I saw tears in Stacie’s eyes and didn’t have the heart to. We drove places I knew she would enjoy including a scenic route through The Needles. We stopped at a remote overlook and spent a wonderful afternoon talking and hiking. Soon, the sun was nearing the horizon, it was time to leave. Taking one last look at the scenery, I saw an eagle overhead and pointed. She watched for a moment, then faced me smiling. Suddenly her arms were around me and her lips joined with mine. The first kiss was stolen, but the rest were freely given. |
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Man, you know nothing about monkey business! Never poke your nose in them.
