Just Another Book Blogger

I am rushing to finish my book because I want to get into the next round of "Blogging for Books," a contest being run by Zero Boss (www.thezeroboss.com). The Boss is a pretty funny writer, but the contest is all serious, with a big prize (well, a homemade bong would be pretty big to me).

CHAPTER 4

(Synopsisosity: Vivian Sleigh is a ravished [ravishing?] southern belle who has lost both legs just below her lower erogenous zone. How they became lost is not clear, although some say it was when her home, Theda Tara, was broken into by some crazed, machete-wielding Colombians looking for bennies. Vivian has ordered prosthetic legs from Legs R Us, and these have arrived at the post office. But Vivian has been unable to find anyone to bring these instruments to the farm.)

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It seems as if the Budweiser Clydesdales (Chapter 3) would not be available to transport Vivian's new legs as the horses were doing a photo shoot for their next Christmas card. And she didn't know if she could rely on Clark Kent Goble, even though she had expressed her undying love to him and his equipment (she had heard he was hung like a Tyrannosaurus Rex, but unless a T.Rex bounded into her yard someday she wouldn't know for sure). The last she heard of Goble he had torched a cow which then burned down all of Chicago. (She was relieved to discover it was Debbie who did Dallas.)

Out of her window she espied a geeky looking neighbor in a conical tin hat, and she asked if he might go get her legs. But he was busy escorting that pissant Dorothy on her way to visit Oz and Harriet Nelson.

Think, think, think Vivian! Well, she mused musedly, she could ask that nice man in the UFO if he could get the legs the next time he came over to make crop circles. But she wasn't able to get in contact since Al Gore couldn't possibly invent the cell phone until tomorrow. Or, maybe she could ask for help from that lumber baron who owns a thing called Babe the Blue Ox (she wondered if Babe was hung like an ox. Probably, she concluded.). But the baron was on his way to deforest Minnesota and couldn't be bothered.

Think, think! The Good Ship Lollipop (operated by Carnival Cruise Lines) probably couldn't get far enough up Shit Creek, so that's a no go.

Wells Fargo! "I've got it!," screamed the radished Vivian. But on second thought, this, too, was a bummer. Wells Fargo has gotten out of the transportation business and is into banking. If they brought the items out from the post office they would probably charge Vivian an arm and a leg, and, well, she couldn't afford THAT!

If only Clark Kent Goble were here. He looked so cute driving that horse and buggy through Atlanta. He oughtta be in pictures.

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Here in the Old Folks' Home I sometimes serve as a reporter for our monthly newsletter. Today, in honor of Presidents' Day, I interviewed a 100-year-old lady who was not kissed as a baby by any President or presidential candidate.

Hoss: "Well, MaryBeth, to what do you attribute your long life?"

Marybeth: "I have lived a long time."