new story @ powder burn flash

I have a new story up at Powder Burn Flash.

It’s titled “Bordeaux” – I would describe it as “hillbilly noir” (if there is such a thing)

You can read it here: http://www.powderburnflash.com/?q=node/269

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There’s a new story of mine up at litchaos. Read it here: http://litchaos.com/2009/44/moorad.htm

(it’s inspired by real events)
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The Dream People said “nay” to me. They said “well-written and engaging” - They also said “Sorry”

I still like The Dream People.
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I have tonsillitis. I am ready for the weekend.

monday night - tuesday morning

I had a dream last night that I went to a beach in Connecticut. I know it was Connecticut because I could see Long Island across the Sound. I was playing beach soccer in the sand, 3 vs. 3’s. It was my team versus Jonathan Taylor Thomas’ team. His team members were his brothers from Home Improvement, Brad and Mark. We laid out the rules before the game. Both teams agreed that you could not shoot the ball from a certain distance. We drew a line in the sand. You had to be inside the line to score. Jonathan Taylor Thomas’ team was not good and they were losing. I was guarding Jonathan Taylor Thomas and he was pissing me off and acting like a little shit. He scratched me, probably accidentally, so shoved him and he began to look emotional. He cried to his brother Brad, but Brad told him to shut-up and to pass him the ball. We played for a couple more minutes. Then Jonathan Taylor Thomas gets the ball. He shoots and scores, but he is standing behind the line we had drawn in the sand, so the goal doesn’t count. I tell him it doesn’t count. He starts to whine like a little pig. He says he was in front of the line when he shot. I tell him he wasn’t and show him the impressions his feet left in the sand where he shot. I prove him wrong. He throws his arms up in the air. His brother Brad tells him to shut-up again and to pass him the ball. Jonathan Taylor Thomas begins to cry and he tells me that the rules are not fair. He said I made unfair rules. I said I didn’t make the rules. I said he broke the rules to compensate for his lack of skill. I said he was a cheat.

Then Jonathan Taylor Thomas began to cry some more. “Give me back my ball,” he says. “I don’t want to play anymore.” So he takes his ball and walks away. His brother Brad calls him a pussy and Jonathan Taylor Thomas tells him to shut-up and that he hates him.

The game is over. I watch Jonathan Taylor Thomas walk up the beach. He sits down next to B. Arthur, who was his grandmother in this dream. B. Arthur (from Golden Girls) is sitting beneath a tree smoking cigarettes in the shade. She looks pale and allergic to the sun. She asks Jonathan Taylor Thomas what’s wrong and he says something cowardly and points at me from where he is sitting. B. Arthur looks up at me and gives me her medusa death-stare. She tries to turn me into stone. For a moment, I feel like stone but I snapped out of it. I give B. Arthur the middle finger because I know I can get away with it. After a while – when he was feeling a little less hurt, Jonathan Taylor Thomas leaves B. Arthur’s company and boogie-boards in the Sound. I think this is stupid because there are no waves in the Sound. He looks like a harbor seal humping a piece of shirt cardboard in a bathtub. I laugh. I laugh loud enough so he will see me laughing at him, but he ignores me and seems happy enough to swim by himself and seems comforted by the waves that are not there.

In the dream, it’s the future. Jonathan Taylor Thomas googles himself because he is feeling depressed about how Home Improvement is no longer on the air and that he is a child star who grew up and is now overweight. He sees his name on the computer screen and clicks on a link that takes him to my blog. He reads this post and becomes more depressed when he remembers how much of a pussy he was on the day my dream took place. He feels more and more unhappy and, to cheer himself up, he takes his boogie-board down to the same beach in Connecticut and paddles around in the Sound. He does this everytime he is feeling sad. It’s wintertime and the water is freezing cold, but Jonathan Taylor Thomas has enough natural insulation because he is now so chubby. There are some migrating harbor seals swimming in the distance and they see Jonathan Taylor Thomas. They are male seals and are very territorial. They swim towards Jonathan Taylor Thomas but as they swim closer they think he is a female seal because his features are soft and his limbs are effeminate by harbor seal standards. The male seals grow uncontrollably horny and rush Jonathan Taylor Thomas and take turns with him and give one another high-fives with their flippers as they use him the way male harbor seals use female harbor seals and they make “ORT-ORT-ORT” sounds and splash in the water and Jonathan Taylor Thomas does not stop them.

the family that preys

one day a year or so ago, my friend dane mcfarlin answered an anonymous casting call he found in the classifieds section of the newspaper. the gig was in atlanta, ga. dane has no desire to be an actor - he majored in marine biology. I guess he was just bored on this particular day.

turns out the casting call was for some tyler perry movie titled, “the family that preys.” i don’t know what the film is about – all I know is that it stars kathy bates who plays the psychotic woman in “misery.”
















the scene dane auditioned for and – subsequently – starred in takes place in a strip club. in the film the establishment is named "hunky stuff" but in reality it's named "swinging richards" - hilarious.


dane is wearing a rocky balboa outfit, complete with boxing gloves and red-white-&-blue glitter shorts, as a group of flesh starved women stuff crumpled dollar bills into his waistband.

awesome.

presently, dane has no future plans to shoot, but if you are in need of his services (i.e. films, bachelorette parties, etc.) he can be found delivering fine wines to liquorstores throughout the florida panhandle. he can also be found here: dane.mcfarlin@gmail.com

valentine's day, hangover, putting things to sleep

today I made the decision to euthanize my old blog. it was about time. it could hardly move and smelled of urine.

for some reason, I decided to host at a place called synthasite. I can’t even remember how I discovered synthasite or why I thought it was cool. I didn’t even know how to operate the fucking thing.

in addition, I wanted to euthanize something. It's an urge I get frequently.

If you are the nostalgic type, you can pay your respects here: http://adam-m.synthasite.com/
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There’s a new story of mine up @ yellow mama. I don’t think it’s very good. I wrote it way back when I thought it was cool to write in a southern dialect. Unless you’re William Faulkner, using a southern dialect isn’t cool.

Checkout how cool I used to think I was: http://blackpetalsks.tripod.com/yellowmama/id267.html

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I went to a harlem shakes show last night. Their lead singer looks like a choir boy and sings like some cartoon version of ben gibbard. I drank too many coronas and had trouble seeing. I did this because it was valentines day.