Posts Tagged With: yolo

Tweets from the Worst Cruise Line Ever

I dug up an old thumb drive and was going through some old files when I discovered a document called “YOLO Cruise”. It appears to consist of a series of “tweets” that I created, written by the world’s worst cruise line. Some of them were pretty funny, so I thought I’d share. I’ll also post them on my Twitter page (@michellishelli), because why the heck not?

Without further ado, I present to you: Tweets from the Worst Cruise Line Ever!

Captain completely plastered. If you can still walk in a straight line, report to command deck ASAP. #captainforaday #yolocruise

All lifeboats now replaced with bottles of rum. In case of ship evacuation, drink rum and use bottle as flotation device. #yohoho #yolocruise

Lost the first mate. Our stay in Barbados now extended until we find him, or until we run out of power, whichever comes first. #marcopolo #yolocruise

Random shore excursion day! Pick a bus and hope the fates are with you. #eeniemeenie #yolocruise

Our tech guys screwed up. From now on, there will be roving wireless hotspots. Grab your laptop and get moving, because the hotspots never stay in one place for long. #battleroyale #yolocruise

Chefs went on strike, so we tossed them overboard. Anyone with cooking experience (fast food counts), report to Deck 9. All volunteer cooks will get a chance to loot the chefs’ cabins. #omnomnom #yolocruise

Unrelated media of the day:

Categories: Random | Tags: , , , , , , | 14 Comments

“Under Pressure” — an Imminent Danger short story

Remember that mega-giveaway I did a few weeks back? One of the winners was Danielle E. Shipley, and the prize she chose was that I’d write a short story about her and an Imminent Danger character of her choice.

The story is below — feel free to read, laugh, and enjoy. It takes place on the tech-savvy planet Chingu, which will be one of the new locations featured in Chasing Nonconformity (release date TBD). Specifically, the location is a spaceship carwash, since I figure spaceships get dirty and need to be cleaned just like any other vehicle. The protagonist, Dani L (aka Danielle), works at the spaceship wash — it’s shaping up to be just another ordinary day for her, until a mysterious black-clad stranger (*cough*VARRIN*cough*) arrives. In the story they refer to him as “Korlethi”, which is one of his aliases, but it’s definitely Varrin. Promise!

Note that this story isn’t “cannon” — i.e., it doesn’t actually take place within the Imminent Danger overarching storyline. It’s just for fun. Author-written fanfiction, if you will. Nevertheless, read and let thyself be amused!


Under Pressure

a short story written for Danielle E. Shipley

by Michelle Proulx


Dani L leaned against the clear plastic counter of the spaceship carwash, one manicured hand propping up her chin, the other hand flipping lazily through a fashion catalogue displayed on the counter’s built-in touchscreen. The fashion catalogue was for Zephron’s Boutique, a high-end fashion store that everyone who was anyone on the tech-savvy planet of Chingu shopped at. Or, at least, those who had money to burn and time to spare—neither of which described Dani L.

The door to the spaceship wash’s small office slid open with a soft ding noise, letting in a warm breeze from the bustling street outside. The breeze tickled Dani L’s face and pushed her curly hair away from her face—it was dyed an eye-catching shade of neon pink, matching the current fashion trend on Chingu of crazy hair colors and even crazier clothing colors. And beautiful Dani L, despite her minimum-wage job that paid her college bills, was very fashionable indeed.

Dani L looked up to greet her customer, but saw no one standing in the doorway. Did that useless door malfunction again? she wondered, rolling her dark eyes and pushing herself up off the counter. But as she started to step around the corner to trigger the shutting mechanism, she spotted a flicker of movement over by the tall displays by the front windows that advertised hull polishes available for interstellar craft.

“Um … hello?” she called uncertainly, clacking around the counter in her lime green high heels and attempting to peer between the displays to see who was hiding behind. “Can I help you with something, sir? Madam? Alien of indeterminate gender?”

A humanoid male stepped out from the displays. He was tall and dark-haired, his leanly muscled body encased in tight-fitting black clothing. Her breath caught in her throat when his stormy gray eyes locked gazes with her. Then his lips twitched up in a lop-sided smirk. “Sorry if I startled you,” he drawled in a deep, velvety voice.

“Muh,” Dani L said.

The gorgeous stranger seemed to be used to this level of eloquence from women he’d just met. “I hope you don’t mind me hiding in here for a few minutes,” he continued.

Dani L forced herself to breathe—made slightly difficult by the way her heart pounded erratically in her chest. “Why are you hiding?” she finally managed to get out.

He winked. “It’s probably better if you don’t know. For your own safety, you understand.”

She felt heat rushing to her cheeks at the idea that he cared about her wellbeing. “Y-yeah. Of course.”

Then Dani L heard a crash outside, followed by angry shouting. Someone with a gravelly voice bellowed, “He’s here somewhere! Spread out! He’s on foot—he can’t be far!”

It was if someone had upended a bucket of ice over Dani L’s head. All the pleasant tingling this mystery man had triggered in her disappeared, to be replaced with righteous anger. Stabbing her finger out at him, Dani L said, “It’s you they’re after, isn’t it? You’re a fugitive from the law! Admit it!”

The dark-haired man just grinned, his grey eyes twinkling merrily in the front office’s harsh, artificial light. “I may be a fugitive,” he allowed, “and I may be on the run from the law, but those overly-excitable gentlemen outside aren’t police.”

“Then who are they?” Dani L demanded.

“I’d rather not say.”


“Because if I tell you, you’ll laugh at me. And that would ruin this ‘will they, won’t they?’ vibe we’ve worked so hard to establish.”

Some part of Dani L was amused by his quick wit. The other part was horrified that she was about to get caught in a shootout and potentially get her head blasted off. “So, just to clarify,” she said, “you’re not a customer, and you don’t, in fact, have a spaceship you want to send through the washer.”

“Remarkably astute of you,” the black-clad man said, and pulled a sleek striker from his belt. He glanced around the small front office, his gaze stopping on the white door behind the counter. “Where does that lead?”

“Into the washer,” Dani L said. When he started striding toward it, she added, “You can’t go in there! It’s restricted! Employees only!”

“There he is!”

Startled, Dani L glanced over to the front window and saw three burly Chingun gangbangers staring right at her. All were carrying strikers.

“Get down!” her mystery man shouted.

He lunged at her, grabbing her around the waist and driving them both to the floor behind the counter.


Dani L screamed and pressed her hands to her ears, trying to drown out the deafening striker-fire. The front window exploded in a shower of plastic shards, which would surely have sliced her to ribbons if she’d still been standing. He saved my life, she realized, gawking at the black-clad man now crouched beside her.

“Are you all right?” he asked, impossibly calm despite the chaos surrounding them.

“I … yes?”

“Good.” He seized her wrist and hauled her toward him. She slid across the tile, her striped monochrome mini-skirt riding up her thighs. “We need to get out of here. Ready to let me through the ‘employees only’ door yet?”

“I think we hit something!” a gruff voice shouted.

“This is Korlethi we’re talking about!” another voice snapped. “No chances. Get in there and make sure he’s dead!”

Dani L bit her lip, torn between wanting to help the man—Korlethi—who’d just saved her life, and wanting to hide under the counter and pray she didn’t get caught in the crossfire. Then she remembered the way he’d just pushed her to the ground, possibly saving her from serious injury in the process. “I’ll get you out of here,” she said. “But you owe me dinner.”

Her mystery man grinned. “Deal.”

“Lay down cover fire,” Dani L ordered. “I’ll open the door.”

Korlethi crouched on the balls of his feet, angled his striker over the top of the counter, and began firing shots into the front of the store. The zwooshing of his striker and the accompanying shouts of panic of his pursuers mixed together in Dani L’s ears as she jumped up and shoved her hand into the basin of ID gel beside the door. It glowed softly in recognition, and the door slid open.

“Let’s move!” she shouted.

They raced through the door and out into a long, wide, high-ceilinged room—big enough to hold most medium-sized starships. Dani L turned to shut the door behind them, but Korlethi grabbed her wrist and dragged her further into the big spaceship wash area. It was dimly lit, but Dani L could see the shapes of the gangbangers spilling out through the office door after them.

“Follow me!” she said, and led Korlethi behind one of the hulking pieces of machinery that lined the room. It was a pressure washer—incredibly dangerous to be around when the spaceship wash was in operation, but harmless at the moment.


Striker shots careened wildly down the length of the huge room. “Get out here and face the music, Korlethi!” one of the Chingun thugs bellowed, his voice echoing. “You owe Mister Novus eighty thousand tetras! We’ll take it out of your hide if you make us!”

Dani L glanced at Korlethi, and saw him roll his eyes. “You can tell Mister Novus that I would have the eighty thousand tetras if his idiot nephew hadn’t decided it was a clever idea to go joyriding in a police skycar during the middle of the heist!” he shouted back.

“You really are a criminal, aren’t you?” Dani L said.

Korlethi grinned. “It keeps life interesting. Now, are you going to show me the way out?”

She winced. “About that …”

“Don’t tell me. No exit.”

Footsteps pounded along the concrete floor as the gang spread out to look for them, although none were nearby for the time being.

“Well, there’s the huge hatch at the end that the ships come in and out of,” she said, “but I can’t trigger those to open unless someone purchases a wash.”

“Can I purchase a wash?”

“Not unless you have time to fill out a three page questionnaire.” He shot her a disbelieving look. Dani L scowled. “What? You’re a first-time customer! It’s store policy!”

“Then how do you propose we get out of here?”

Dani L drummed her fingers against her thigh, thinking furiously. “Well, we obviously can’t get out the way we came. Those thugs are very much in our way. But … oooh, actually, that could work.” It was a crazy idea, but something about being around Korlethi made her want to throw common sense out the window. “How do you feel about getting wet?”

Korlethi eyed her warily. “I’m not entirely opposed to the idea, given the right context.”

“And if the context is you getting out of here with your head attached to your shoulders?”

“Then I say, drench me.”

Dani L lifted her wrist, where her transparent communicator was strapped. It was hooked up to the store’s computer system, allowing her to access the mainframe remotely. She raised the wristband to her mouth and whispered, “Activate self-cleaning cycle.”

“What was that?” Dani L heard one of the gangbangers demand.

“That,” she shouted, lowering her wrist, “is the sound the self-cleaning cycle makes when it’s about to start. In exactly twelve seconds, this entire room will be filled with jets of high-pressure water that will literally strip the flesh from your bones. If I were you, I’d run.”

There was the briefest moment of silence. Then someone shouted, “RUN!”, and she heard footsteps hammer toward the office door.

“We can’t go that way,” Korlethi said.

“Nope,” Dani L agreed, darting out from behind the pressure washer, which—like all the machinery lining up and down the sides of the room—was heating up and whirring to life. As she broke into a run along the center of the huge hall, she shouted over her shoulder, “There’s an equipment locker by the exit hatch that can seal airtight—see that blue panel?”

There was a flurry of movement to her left, and Dani L glanced over to see Korlethi running beside her, not even breathing hard despite the rapid pace she was setting despite her high heels. “You mean the panel about a hundred yards away?” he said.

“That’s the one!”

“And how long will it take for the self-cleaning cycle to start?”

The first pressure washer at the far end of the room started up, and then the second. There were only ten washers in the room, and Dani L and Korlethi were still at least fifty yards away from the equipment locker.

“We’re not going to make it,” Korlethi shouted.

Dani L raced on, her lungs starting to burn and her eyes to water. “We can make it!” she insisted.

“Not at this speed!”

She felt hands close around her waist, and then suddenly she found herself hauled over Korlethi’s shoulder. Dani L felt the breath knocked out of her as he put on a burst of speed and fairly flew across the damp concrete floor, carrying her along with him. She tried to scream, but there was no air left in her lungs to produce even a squeak of terror.

The sixth washer started up, and then the seventh. Balanced on his shoulder and facing backward, Dani L could do nothing but gape at the jets of high-pressure washer as they cascaded down the room, filling the room with roaring water that drowned out all other noises. This is it, she thought, and she could almost feel the water smashing down on her, cracking her ribs and crushing her body. This is the end.

Then the world fell away from under her and everything went dark. She felt something warm and hard wrap around her body, clutching her tightly. For a panicked second, she thought that the water had engulfed her, and that this was what it felt like when thousands of tons of water dragged you down into their icy embrace. Then she realized the thing wrapped around her was warm, not cold. It’s not water—it’s Korlethi! We made it! We’re in the locker. We’re safe!

Dani L and Korlethi huddled in the locker for what felt like forever, clinging to each other in the darkness, waiting out the torrent of water. She could feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest, and remembered that last sprint to the locker. I’ve never seen anyone move that fast. How did he do that?

Eventually the roar died away, and the locker door slid open. Dani L and Korlethi tumbled out onto the wet floor, sprawling on the hard concrete as the midday sunlight streamed in through the now-open hatch at the end of the room.

“We … survived,” she gasped. Her hair and her clothes were quickly getting soaked from lying on the floor, but she didn’t care—she was still having trouble grasping the fact that the water hadn’t killed them both, as it rightly should have.

“Of course we did.”

Dani L looked up, and saw Korlethi crouching beside her, grinning. He offered her his hand, and she took it with a groan. As he pulled her upright, she added, “How did we survive?”

“I’m fast.”

“I noticed.”

He glanced through the open hatch to the bustling street beyond, and then back to her. “I need to get out of here before those idiots figure out there’s another exit and come looking for me.”

Dani L realized that meant he was leaving. After everything that had just happened—even though barely five minutes had elapsed from start to finish—she couldn’t fathom him just walking away and potentially never seeing him again. As he turned to leave, she darted forward, grabbing the sleeve of his black jacket. “Wait,” she protested. “You owe me dinner.”

He winced. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

“I take it that means no dinner.”

“I need to get off-planet.” He waved his hand in the vaguely upward direction. “I have a job lined up for IFTAP that I’m already days behind on. Mister Novus’s idiot henchmen intercepted me on my way back to my ship.”

“Can’t you put off the job for a few more days?” Dani L asked.

“A few days either way doesn’t make a huge difference for me, but seeing as I’m supposed to be rescuing some pathetic terrestrial who got mixed up with the Ssrisk … well, I probably shouldn’t push it any further, don’t you think?”

Dani L sighed and scowled down at her lime green shoes. “I guess not,” she muttered.

Then she felt a hand on her chin, lifting her head. She looked up to see Korlethi’s gray eyes twinkling at her. “I’ll have to pass on dinner,” he said. “But I think I could spare a second for dessert.”

Then he kissed her. It was a toe-curling, spine-tingling, heart-spasm-inducing kiss that had Dani L’s insides melting and her head swimming. She clung to him as they molded their mouths together, breathing each other in, reveling in the sensations. His hands dug into her waist, pulling so hard against him that she worried she’d lose herself entirely in his embrace—and then felt foolish for worrying about such a thing, as it was the most wonderful thing she could possibly imagine happening.

He pulled away, leaving her breathless and gasping for more. Her eyes had shut the instant his lips touched her own. When Dani L opened her eyes again, he was gone.

Categories: My Works, Writing | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , | 9 Comments

The post in which I write a review for my own book

I am in a silly mood today, so I have decided to write a review for my own book. I encourage all authors to do the same. Apart from being super fun and a nice creative exercise, I am also amused by the idea that this review might come up when people search for my book on Google.

Book Review of Imminent Danger And How to Fly Straight into It

I found this book totally by accident. I was actually looking for my new dentist’s office when I passed a store that sold these weird, papery objects. Having vaguely recalled seeing these things before on television, I stepped inside the store and approached the owner. “Hi there,” I said to him. “What exactly do you sell in this store?”

“Books,” the man said. “It’s like television, except they use words instead of moving pictures. Try one.”

So I picked up the first “book” that caught my eye. It had a sweet starry red background with trippy futuristic fonts and a really hot couple dancing on the front. “Good choice,” the man said. “This is a real classic. It’s widely known amongst discerning YA enthusiasts as the most excellent book ever written in the entire history of everything. That will be $15.”

I handed him the money and brought the book home. As soon as I opened the first page, I noticed that I felt slightly different. It took me a second to realize what it was — it was happiness. I hadn’t felt that way since I won the County Spelling Bee back in the second grade. The warm effulgence of pure delight washed over me, and I sank back into the comfy cushions of my couch as I let the magic of this fantastic book wash over me.

Each turn of the page brought a new and exciting change. When I hit page 34, the sore throat I’d been fighting off for days suddenly cleared up. On page 97, I got a phone call from my travel agent telling me I’d won a free trip to Jamaica. On page 208, I had a huge slice of pizza and discovered that I was no longer lactose intolerant. And when I finished the last page and shut the book with a sigh of pure ecstasy, I got a text message from the love of my life, begging for me to give us a shot.

At this point I became slightly suspicious of this “book” I had purchased. Was it possible that the story was so utterly, mind-bogglingly brilliant that it actually had the power to cure my ailments and fix my love life? To test my theory, I called my bookie and had her bet my entire life savings on a horse race. Then I picked up the book and began to leaf through it frantically. By the time I’d gotten halfway through, my bookie called. I’d won the race.

So in conclusion, this book made me a millionaire, cured my lactose intolerance, and netted me my future partner. I’m still testing out its assorted magical properties, but I’m pretty sure that it can also predict the future, increase its reader’s intelligence to genius-level, and possibly summon unicorns. I plan to use this book to construct an Iron Man suit and spend the rest of my life flying around stopping terrorists, ending wars, and promoting literacy programs in third world nations. With any luck, I shall become a God among men and reshape the world in my image.


Oh, and the story was pretty good, too. The beginning was a little slow. Funny ending. Great characters. Five stars.

Unrelated video of the day:

Not sure if I’ve shared this yet, but … eh, whatever. Enjoy!

Categories: My Works, Random, Writing | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 52 Comments

Re-blog: The Worst Christmas Story Ever Written

Courtesy of Eric John Baker, the worst and most hilarious Christmas story ever written:

The Worst Christmas Story Ever Written.

Categories: Random | Tags: , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Blogging is hard …

I have literally spent the last hour sitting at my keyboard, attempting to write this post. Each time I get halfway through a post, I decide it’s stupid and then delete it and start over. Sigh.

Since I apparently have nothing intelligent to say, I suppose I’ll settle for giving a brief life update. You can barely contain your excitement, can’t you? CAN’T YOU?

So I got a call from Manpower (the temp agency) yesterday, and today I started a new job at a major Canadian bank, the name of which I cannot disclose on pain of a death most gruesome. It’s a 2-3 week gig, depending on how fast we get the project done, and (again, not going into details) basically involves data entry. But the challenging kind, where you need to actually pay attention to what you’re doing, solve problems, try to suss out what the scribbled writing and blank mandatory fields are trying to tell you, etc.

It’s at a bank, so I have to wear nice clothing. I’ve spent the last eight months or so wearing sweat pants (They’re comfy! Don’t judge!), so this was a new and exciting step for me. Needless to say, I felt very fancy today.

In non-work related news, my mother recently had her friend from Florida over to visit for the weekend, so I was booted from my room and took up residence on the couch. That was … fun?

I’m still waiting for my Return Evaluation to come back for Imminent Danger. It’s been about 9 business days now, and I’m getting kind of impatient. And by impatient, I mean obsessively checking my email, even at times of the day when it is completely unreasonable for someone to be contacting me. I really want to see my evaluation, if only to learn whether or not I have to fork over two grand for a copy-edit.

This concludes my rambling. It is 10:30 now, and I must go prepare for bed if I want to have time to watch Glee before I go to bed. Yes, I watch Glee. I’m a girl. It’s allowed.

Update: I spent too much time finding videos to share with you. It is now 11 pm. No Glee for me.


Unrelated media of the day:

Jeggings are silly. Enjoy.


Female warriors’ outfits in video games are also silly. Enjoy.


And, finally, some sports fails to round out the hilarity.

Categories: Random | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 15 Comments

My Author Mission Statement

I got this idea from Joanne Phillips’ Blog (check her out!).

Basically, she says that if businesses have mission statements that explain why they do what they do, why shouldn’t an author have one as well?

Thus, without further ado, my mission statement:

I write because I love books, and I can’t imagine anything more amazing than writing a book that people love.

It’s not quite as long and detailed as Joanne’s mission statement, but there it is. I had planned on rambling for several paragraphs, but then I realized that that one sentence really does encapsulate my thoughts on writing.

What’s your author mission statement? Or, if you aren’t an author, what’s your life’s mission statement?

Random Image of the Day:

Classic Youtube Hit of the Day:

Categories: Writing | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 17 Comments

Yarrr! Celebrate International Talk Like a Pirate Day!

Ahoy, matey! Yarr! Codswallop! Rum!

Okay, that’s basically all the pirate speak I know.

Anyway, today is International Talk Like a Pirate Day. I didn’t know much about it, so I checked out the site, and it turns out that you can donate there to various charities. These charities presumably have to do with talking like pirates, although I think they’re stretching — what does “regional support networks” have to do with looting and pillaging? Arrgh!

I have not personally written anything about pirates before, although I have seen some humorous pirate-themed media. I shall share these assorted media with you now, thus may we better embrace the ideologies of International Talk Like a Pirate Day.


Lazy Town – You Are A Pirate

Cosmo Jarvis – Gay Pirates


Pirate Scrabble

Categories: Random | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

I broke 100,000 words! Happy day!

It’s official — Imminent Danger and How to Fly Straight into It is now under 100,000 words. I believe it’s sitting nicely at 99,300-ish, and we’re not even done editing yet.

We’re on chapter 32 of 44, so I’m guessing the final word count will be somewhere around 95k. That’s still a very decent length for a YA novel, and the writing is getting much better and tighter as a result, so I’m really happy that we decided to do this final round of editing.

At the current editing pace, we (my editor/mother and I) should be done the shortening/revisions by the end of September. Then I’ll send out the new and improved book to a handful of select readers (aka people who can promise to read the book in a week), fix whatever (hopefully!) minor issues they find, and then send it off for copy-editing.

The other upside of getting the book under 100k words is that the copy editing will cost less. 100k words = $2200. 95k words = $2090. That’s about a hundred dollars in savings, which is good by me! I’m all for saving money. Then again, who isn’t?

In other news, I have a stack of self-published novels on my hard drive that I need to read and review. I keep meaning to get started on them, but I always seem to get distracted. Last week I had a legitimate excuse — I was temping for a telecommunications company — but now I don’t really have any reason not to get started on the reading/reviewing.

My next hurdle will be to decide which book to read first. Should I go by the date each book was sent to me, or by how much I want to read the book? Hmm …

In other, other news, I’m headed to Washington with my mother this week for a mini-vacation before winter starts. That’s the nice thing about having a flex-time job — vacation is very easy to book, since I don’t have to request time off or reschedule shifts. On the downside, I’m really bad at flex-time work, because I procrastinate like nobody’s business. Ah well. Anyway, I’m really excited for Washington. I’ve been once before, when I was about twelve or thirteen, and I remember that it was really awesome. I’m probably going to hit up the Smithsonian, the Library of Congress, etc.

I’ll try to take pictures, but no promises.

Random picture of the day:

True love, Japan style

Categories: Self Publishing, Writing | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 23 Comments

Things I Learned From Being a Temp Worker

I recently signed up with a temp agency. My goals were twofold:

  1. To make money (obviously).
  2. To expose myself to different situations that I would never find myself in regularly (which I could then use as fodder for my writing).

I succeeded wildly on both accounts.

This past week, I worked 9-5 for a telecommunications company. They had a booth set up at my local university. My job was to hand out magnets and try to convince people to sign up for internet. First of all, let me say that, despite the fact that my legs felt like they were going to fall off each night, I had a really great time. The two girls I worked with were bubbly and super friendly, and my manager was just a genuinely awesome human being. Despite the fact that all three of us magnet-pushers were temp workers, he treated us like valued employees, and gave us a great little bonus at the end of the week.

As for the magnet-pushing itself … talk about fascinating. I got to come into close contact with every range of the human spectrum. It’s really interesting to see how different people reacted when offered the free magnets. The coolest part was that the people I expected to react a certain way often did the total opposite.

Here, in no particular order, are some of the reactions I got when I extended a magnet, smiled, and said, “Would you like a magnet?”

  • Thanks.
  • No, thanks.
  • No.
  • I already have one.
  • I don’t need one.
  • Sweet! I’ll put this on my fridge.
  • I have about 20. Sure, I’ll take more.
  • **totally ignores my existence**
  • Uh … what is it? No, no, I don’t need that.
  • **politely declines in foreign language**
  • **shies away from me, travelling a meter in the wrong direction and nearly crashing into other passersby**
  • I already have internet.
  • **pretends to take out cell phone to avoid eye contact**
  • **polite wave of hand to indicate no**
  • Sorry.
  • No, but I’ll take one of those pens.
  • Sorry, I have no hands. (or “Sorry, my hands are full”)
  • **glares and stalks off**
  • **glances up, then ignores me and walks away**
  • **stops mid-stride, stares at the magnet, then backs away, nearly crashing into other passersby**

That’s just a small sampling, of course. It astonished me how many ways people could come up with to say “No”. The most fun for me was when they went out of their way to skirt around me, and nearly crashed into other people as a result. What did they think I would do, jump at them if they came too close? Bite at their nose? Grab them and force them to sign-up at magnet-point? Is a magnet even a viable weapon?

I also had a fun encounter with an older lady. When I offered her a magnet, she took one look at the company name, then flipped her proverbial s**t.  She started shouting about how the company was useless, and how they screwed her and her son over, and how she’ll never buy from them again, etc. My co-worker came over to help me deal with her, and had to ask the woman to stop shouting and leave several times before the woman stormed off. I’ve worked in customer service a few times before, but fortunately I’ve never encountered the bats**t insane customer type before. It was annoying at the time, but I find it really amusing in retrospect. And it taught me a valuable lesson, which I will now impart to you all below:

If you want to rant at someone, check first to see if they’re a minimum wage employee. If they are, ask for a manager. The minimum wage employee can do absolutely nothing to help you, other than have their day ruined by you. And remember that, when complaining, the manager will go out of their way to be unhelpful if you’re acting like a raving psychopath.

Since my WordPress friends are all intelligent, rational individuals, I’m sure this lesson doesn’t apply to you. Still, I feel it had to be said, even if just to remind us all that minimum wage employees have to put up with a lot of unpleasant things for very little compensation.

To wrap things up, my first stint as a temp employee went really well. I met some fascinating characters who will undoubtedly be showing up in my future books. And I have a nice paycheck from the telecommunications company that will mostly go to paying my telecommunications bill. Would that be considered ironic? I can never tell.

Thought-provoking link of the day:

“‘Trampire’: Why the Public Slut Shaming of Kristen Stewart Matters for Young Women”

Random Internet Awesomeness of the day:

This one takes me back. Ahh, good times. Warning: the F-word is used in this video.

Categories: Random | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 15 Comments

The Ultimate Fanfiction Challenge

Okay people, in honour of my first day of 9-5 work, I have created the:

Here are the rules:

1. Write a short fanfiction about ANYTHING you want — the goal here is to get as ridiculous as humanly possible. Oh, and you should probably keep it fairly clean — or at least make sure to put a rating on it before inquisitive young minds read your Snape/Dobby/Katniss orgy fic and are scarred for life.

2. Post it in the comments below, or on your blog, or wherever the heck you like. Just make sure you let me know so I can read it!

3. If you like the idea, share the ULTIMATE FANFICTION CHALLENGE on your own blog. Hopefully it will catch on, and WordPress will be swamped by thousands of terrible, mind-bogglingly twisted fanfictions in the next few weeks. Fingers crossed!

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For my entry into the ULTIMATE FANFICTION CHALLENGE, I give you:

The Boy and his Cake

Fandom: Hunger Games

Pairing: Peeta / Cake

Rating: R (sort of …?)

It had been months since the Hunger Games, but Peeta knew that even though his body had escaped the arena, his mind never would. His nights were tormented by images of Katniss dying. Peeta always tried to save her, but he never could. He woke up screaming every morning, long before the sun rose, and nothing could get him to fall back asleep.

After awakening from a particularly horrific nightmare in which Katniss had been ripped apart by mutts, Peeta stumbled out of his room and down to the kitchen for a glass of water. But when he turned on the kitchen light, he was astonished by what he found sitting on the counter. It was a huge cake, five layers tall, and two feet in diameter.

“What do we have here?” Peeta murmured, approaching the cake. It was made of chocolate batter, but there was something missing. “You poor thing,” he murmured, reaching out to gently caress the spongy cake. “Your maker forgot to ice you. Don’t worry, I can fix you. I’ll make you feel better than you’ve ever felt before.”

Driven by his newfound purpose, Peeta rummaged through the drawers and pulled out the ingredients to make delicious chocolate icing. He mixed it all together in a huge wooden bowl, accidentally covering himself in icing sugar in the process.

Dipping a wide spatula into the bowl of icing, Peeta carefully began to ice the near-side of the cake. “Your curves are so soft, so round,” Peeta whispered, tracing the spatula lovingly along the cake. “I could just eat you up. But you wouldn’t like that, would you? You want the person who eats you to take it slow, really savour the experience. I can do that for you, cake. I can be that man.”

He ran the icing-coated spatula round and round the cake, moving faster and faster as he moved up the layers. By the time he reached the topmost layer, he was panting from his efforts. “Just a little longer,” he gasped. “Almost there …”

Finally he reached the tip of the cake, finishing off the icing with a sultry swirl. Then Peeta collapsed back against the sink, breathing raggedly and clutching the spatula in an iron grip.

There was only one thing left to do. Drawing forth a knife, Peeta carefully sliced off a piece of the chocolate confection. After the first taste, his eyes rolled back in his head and he moaned in ecstasy. “Oh my god,” Peeta groaned. “I’ve never felt this fulfilled before, you insatiable chocolate temptress.”

“Eat some more,” the cake replied, “and you’ll see how insatiable I can be.”

It suddenly occurred to Peeta that maybe he should have attended those Capitol-appointed psychiatric appointments after all.

Random Video of the Day:

The song itself is kind of bad. The video, however, is hysterical.

Categories: Writing | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

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