CarlHoliday

When I think of Mississippi these things come to mind: William Faulkner (my favorite author); the Brookhaven distribution centers for McLane (the best in the company) and Walmart; the small, independent truck stop in Bogue Chitto (with a name like that what's not to remember); the Petro truck stop in Jackson (where the lot lizard exposed her (his?) miniscule breasts to prove she was a woman); the fish processing plant outside Indianola where I had to wait ten hours (federal rest time) for my load of Atlantic salmon from Chile and tilapia from Honduras to get gutted, filleted, and packaged for delivery to Walmart distribution centers in Arkansas (1) and Oklahoma (2); the strange stretch of future interstate between Birmingham and Memphis; and the imitation stern-wheeler visitor information center in Greenville (Is it still there? Why is their website worthless?). And, now, there is something more to remember Mississippi by. There is an evil company in Madison, Mississippi, by the name of DeBeukelaer Corp. that produces an insidious cookie by the name of Crème de Pirouline. These chocolate filled rolled wafers are a temptation this chocoholic finds extremely difficult to put down. Just to get through a week I have to buy two 14 oz. cans. Luckily, our local grocery store only stocks the chocolate hazelnut variety. I don’t know what I’d do if they stocked the dark chocolate, too. Ooh, dark chocolate! Milky Way Midnight Dark chocolate bars, just the thought makes me almost want to drive down to the grocery store for one. So much for the good news. Last month when I went bonkers in a manic episode I went up 500 mg on Depakote for 10 days, which dropped me back to something close to normalcy. (What is normalcy for someone with bipolar?) Once again, I’m bouncing off the walls, driving my son crazy with my constant chattering, and generally doing things that I normally don’t do. My current project seems to be adding friends to my presence on Facebook. I’ve gone from 8 (acquired over a period of 7 years) to 22 in the past week. I know, that certainly isn’t much of anything, but I’m basically an introvert and don’t do well on social media. I haven’t even gone the Twitter route, which in a way is good since it seems to be going the way of the electric typewriter if they keep losing top management. The solution? Yep, back on the extra dose of Depakote. Maybe, I just need to stay on that and see how it affects me generally speaking. I’ll be finishing chapter 5 of 319 tonight and have chapters 6, 7, 8, and probably 9 all mapped out. I just need to slow down my life a bit. That’s the problem with being bipolar, always running the risk of falling into an unbelievably deep gloom or bouncing of the ceiling as you try to fly like a nervous sparrow.

Chapter 24 Ship Clock 262780 Life Continues REGINALDO 53-943O; CCMD-NSDX-010-R5 ECOM 99X-6445C-4; ABNER 34-793K GREETINGS . . . STATUS REPORT; REQUESTED BRAIN SURGERY: EUGENUS 54-721C HERCULES III BOT SURGICAL STAFF APPROVES SURGICAL REPAIR & REARRANGEMENT OF ARTERIAL ROUTING FOR EUGENUS 54-721C. SURGERY SCHEDULED FOR THIRD MOONDAY STARRETH 262780. EUGENUS 54-721C MUST BE AT RING 5 CENTRAL CITY MEDICAL CENTER NLT NOON THIRD DIOSDAY STARRETH 262780. SURGERY AND ATTENDANT SERVICES

Right now the neighbors have gone and left their GSD out on their back deck (enclosed). It is crying and howling because of their absence. Although Rambo nipped me this morning because I touched his food bag, I still love him and I suppose that’s the difference between them and us. Rambo’s crate is right here in the house and he can get to it whenever he needs to go to his “place”, while the neighbor’s GSD has its crate on the back deck, so its “place” is on the other side of a normally close door and isn’t actually in a dog’s eye a place of comfort. There are two kinds of pet owners, those who love and those who neglect. I’m proud to say we love Rambo even though my flannel has holes in it from the numerous times he’s decided I’m encroaching on his territory. He gets the rebuke he deserves and is sent to his “place” for a little timeout. That works for us and I wish the neighbors could be the kind of dog owners who appreciate what they have in that sad, lonely dog. Over last Saturday night and Sunday morning, Chakira von Dacon, IPO (Schutzhund) 1, KKL1a, gave birth to seven GSD puppies, six males and one female. We’re, or rather I’m getting the female. I don’t know what name the breeder will demand for the registered name (All of their litters are designated by letters of the alphabet, in Rambo’s case he was in an “L” litter and his registered name would have been Lorenz von Waldberg if we had submitted the $35 and paperwork to the AKC.), but I’m naming her Nana, after Rambo’s mother. It was a never-ending struggle to come up with a name that interested me, but all I could come up with were cutesy names that don’t fit my personality and probably wouldn’t have fit the dog. GSD’s are a regal breed and deserve to be called something other than Sissy, Missy, Bouncy, Cuddles, or Miss Fuzzy. I’ve been working on “319” a little every day. I’ve changed the time period for the story, bumping it forward thirty years to today to change the sexual dynamic from outright lust to more of a reminiscence of times past, of all the boyfriends, acquaintances, and deaths. Uncommon to the way I usually write a story, each chapter will be from the POV of a different character. The main characters will be those living in the house. At the present time they include: Geoff, a man in his mid-sixties at the end of a long career of teaching at a fictional four-year college in Upstate New York; Jer, an eighteen-year-old entering the house as a first-year student at Warnton College and living there as the houseboy; and, just appearing this week, Erik, a fourteen-year-old who was abandoned outside the Mickey D’s in Lyons, NY, and will be Geoff’s foster child and ultimately adopted son. Secondary characters now introduced are: Dave, an eighteen-year-old first-year student at Warnton College who makes a mean kosher Reuben and is Jer’s main love interest; Gerry, a Warnton local and senior at Warnton Middle/Senior High School and probable friend to Jer or something more; and, creepy Mr. Alexander, the band teacher at the Middle/Senior High School who has the wandering eye for teenage boys and who will meet his doom somewhere in the story. Erik for his part plays the clarinet, but will refuse to play in band, so I’ll have to come up with a victim for Mr. Alexander. Of course, it will have to be handled delicately. I’m thinking the victim could be a possibly boyfriend of Erik, whether the abuse occurs before, during, or after the relationship will have to be determined. I thought by adding Erik and Gerry to the story would give it a more depth and help (or hinder) Geoff in his early years of retirement by having a never-ending array of cute young and older teen and young adult males in his home. He’s had a horrible life of having steady relationships always ending in untimely separation or death. He’s never had a chance to find that one special person to be with him to the very end and now he finds himself surrounded by untouchable youth, who in some cases seem more than willing to be closer than is proper. Will Geoff find Mr. Right or will he have to accept looking forward to a lonely end in the big Queen Anne style house at 319 Winesap Lane. In any case, 319 Winesap Lane is a developing story that is starting out with a bang and all I have to do is keep the banging in tune. As with any story involving Geoff there is the very real possibility of characters coming on stage, singing their aria, and dying a horrible death, much to the horror of Geoff and the other characters.

Chapter 23 Ship Clock 262459 Eugeni 54-721d The Astrophysicist “Eugeni 54-721d, how are you this morning?” A bot asked. “Oh, thirty-six, I guess I’m okay.” “I am forty-two not thirty-six. It has not been here for three weeks.” “Has it been that long? I can’t remember. What are we working on today? Weren’t we working on the iridium-dark matter separator? There was a problem acquiring enough iridium with dark matter coefficients three and nine. Did we solve that?” “Eugeni 54, what is yo

It looks like the real David is back and trying to function. Though it's a bit troubling he can't quite remember what happened or why, but considering the drugs he's been on and possibly a little amnesia from any blows he received to the head, we're lucky to have as much of him as we have. Finally, Gary gets to act like the friend he's supposed to be. Sometimes it's a wonder how little he takes his friendship with David all the while concentrating on banging Mel. It's nice Twoey is back in the picture and looking forward to going to see the real David, who just might not remember breaking off with Twoey. It would be nice to see them move a little closer together. Of course, that would mean David is going to have to comes to terms with his sexuality. Way to go Tommy. Seeing through all of the roadblocks his father and Aunt Sarah are throwing up in his way. What is it about these people, don't they know how to communicate with their children? Are they that afraid of the truth. And dear old Dad, did something come in the mail, something he wasn't expecting? I suppose we should worry about Mom, but she's run away and doesn't deserve the right to come back. My only question would be, if Burch had been arrested by the police at the scene of the beating, who was driving his SUV when it picked up Tommy's mother? Is she living in Burch's house with his wife?

Chapter 22 Ship Clock 262349 Abner (Abe) 34-793k Li (Lee) 32-413f Prisoners, Part 2 Abe sat in his cell staring at the opposite wall of his cell. There wasn’t much else to do. He had just finished a meal that was supposed to be breakfast, but it didn’t resemble anything he recognized as breakfast food. A dry biscuit of some substance floating in a sweet tasting viscous fluid, a cup of some kind of juice, and a pill he assumed to be a combination of vitamins and minerals. Yesterday he had

I received a letter in the mail today from AARP. On the outside in red, all cap, sans serif, heavy block letters was the word REMINDER. My mind wandered back in its creative nether regions and came up with a scenario where a similar letter could be received by a citizen of some future society. Of course, the return address would not indicate which agency had sent the letter, but inside the letter might read something like this: REMINDER: Your subscription to citizenship in the Kingdom of Calneva is due to expire in 90 days. You immediate attention to this matter is of utmost importance. Failure on your part to submit the required form and proper remittance as a citizen in good standing will result in a court directed order for apprehension and immediate withdrawal of all rights of subscribed citizenship. Please fill out the enclosed form, attach an government authorized account debit form, insert said documents in the enclosed envelope, and return within 60 days to ensure sufficient time for processing. Thank you for your consideration in this matter. Dolores Smythe Secretary General Citizenship Council Kingdom of Calneva Long live His Royal Highness Donald Trump VII Can you imagine the U.S. being divided up into little countries ruled by the super rich? Can you imagine having to purchase your citizenship on an annual basis? Can you imagine a president and a select group of politicians and military officials doing away with the Constitution and murdering citizens who protest such actions? It's surprising the number of things you can imagine out of receiving in the mail a little, white envelope, with red letters on it. Still riding the wave.

I was starting to read a Sanitaria Springs story by dabeagle when "I Can Hear Music" by The Beach Boys came on and I got to thinking about what happened today. Other than Gershwin's "Rhapsody in Blue," especially with its opening clarinet glissando, the beautiful tenor of Carl Wilson has to make "I Can Hear Music" my number one favorite oldies song and I have a lot of favorite oldies songs. I completely revised Chapter 1 of 319 Winesap Lane removing all the sex between Geoff and Jerry. I also added a reason for Geoff to stay away from Jerry in a sexual way. This leaves whatever sex occurs in the story to lie within Jerry's realm. His initial infatuation will be with the boy he meets in Chapter 2. The VA finally got back to me about a dermatology referral my PC sent in in December. I'll be able to see some one in Monroe, so maybe I won't have to get up so early in the morning. Since I'm still bouncing off the walls, I called the shrink and she told me to add another 500 mg of Depakote to my medicinal mix. Of course, this raises red-flags of dulling of my creative processes. I suppose using all that extra energy on Sunday to get all the final chapters of The G.M.Os. ready to go to editing was good because any other work on that might suffer. The story still ends rather abruptly with Chapter 31, but there's nothing I can do about that right now. I have no idea what will happen to 319, but I can hope for the best that I will be able to adapt. Have to remember, happy thoughts keep the gloomies away.

Thank you for this wonderful story of a gay teen with adults who love him and are more than willing to care for them, even if one brings his job instincts home and has trust issues. As a parent it was always my view to trust my son and I never worried he would do the right thing, so I was a little startled when Colt abruptly broke in on the boys accusing Trent of something potentially criminal. But, his embarrassment at overreacting when he realized his error was precious.

Another great chapter! So much for David2 and his ideas of being a ninja and catching Burch in his littler church wives game. Get sloppy and sometimes you end up catching shit. Honestly, I think it's high time for David to come back in the picture and get his act together. This is an adult game and they're willing to play for keeps. Hopefully, the police caught some of the perps, although it looks like Burch got away, but where can he go? Where indeed? Only you know skinnyD and we need to find out! Keep the chapters coming. And get some help for David. Maybe it's time for Sam to get that envelope over to David's dad.

Chapter 21 Ship Clock 262349 Human Services As requested, the remaining family members of the five residences stood in the parking area softly conversing among themselves uncertain what was to occur. After about a half an hour a small speeder landed in the parking area and two unidentifiable bots flew out and landed on one side. “If I could have everyone’s attention, could everyone be on this side, it will make this presentation go easier,” one of the bots called out. Knowing how bots we

I had a question about 319 yesterday so I sent dabeagle an email and asked his professional opinion about the kind and amount of sex I was anticipating in the story. I think he gave me an honest and truthful assessment of where I was heading and needless to say I am no longer going to write the story in that direction. If anything, the story was being written in a way that could only be something that would be appropriate on Nifty, which is something I no longer intend to do. So thank you very much dabeagle for your assistance in this matter. Today, we went down to Monroe to get some dog food for Rambo and a new football for him. I was looking at the puppy chew toys and got excited about the prospect that Nana would soon be born (only 7 more days), if this litter has females and we’re high enough on the list to get one. I hope so. I don’t know what I would do if we have to wait for another litter. When Rambo was born all four pups were males, so there’s always that chance. I so much look forward to having Nana cuddled on my lap whiIe go into a vegetative TV state of mind until she’s old enough to be too big to be on my lap. All this time wanting a lap dog and now settling for a GSD does little to dampen my spirits knowing I get a choice in the kind of dog I'm getting for my very own. Just knowing she’ll be my dog goes a long way to looking forward to a stable mental state mollified by two GSDs. Nana and Rambo resting at my feet while I think about all the stories I could be writing if I wasn’t too busy just being with the dogs. An interesting thing happened on our way into and back from Monroe. I realized I have been in a hyperactive mental state. The new dosage that is supposed to keep me stabilized, isn’t. I talked nearly all the way down and all the way back. And, it wasn’t intelligible shit either. Just drivel, nothing of importance, but definitely evident of someone in a manic state of mind. If this continues into tomorrow and Monday, I’m going to have to call the shrink and let her know. I don’t know if I can add another 500 mg of Depakote or if she’ll give me a supplemental medication. The VA seems to be very up on Abilify, but I’m scared of any drug that has a side effect of sudden, unexpected death. So, it’s back to 319 and a change in direction. I’ll be keeping the characters; I definitely can’t do away with Geoff and I’ll keep his insatiable sexual desire. Jerry will be there, just as cute as always, but now Geoff won’t be able to touch him. And, Jerry is going to try to get into Geoff’s pants if only to satisfy his own sexual desire. There’s a new sex interest for Jerry, a boy of the same age from Woodstock, New York, named Dave. The main sexual activity in the story will be between Jerry and Dave. But, that leaves Geoff with his inability to get close to Jerry, no matter how much either wishes things to be different. And, to top things off, there will be more boys coming to 319 Winesap Lane, all of them unavailable to Geoff due to their age and status at the college.

Certainly a sloppy chapter. David2 certainly wasn't up to ninja form by forgetting to disable the flash. Hopefully, he can remember that the next time. What's with David and Alex. Can he really be that much of an A/H and dump Twoey for Alex? This kid has some definite issues and he certainly needs to get back to Dr. Keating before it's too late. All this focus on fixing his family situation is going to destroy him if he isn't more careful.

My writing therapy program has come to fruition. I finished chapter 1 of 319 Winesap Lane and it came in at over 5,600 words. I suspected all I needed to do was get a good storyline and a couple characters to get this thing going, but it’s been much easier than I thought. Though I have to admit the it didn’t go without a few hesitations. It definitely didn’t help I was trying to get caught up with 18 Weeks of Twoey by skinnydragon. It’s an interesting story and I recommend it to anyone who is interested in young gay love and angst. It does have quite a bit of sex in it, but they’re all teenagers so it shouldn’t be a problem to anyone. Unless, of course, you're one of those people who thinks children (for some adults that includes anyone under the age of 25) shouldn't have sexual contact of any kind. There was an article on newyorker.com about juveniles on sex-registries that can last far into adulthood. The author was of the opinion that any sex play among children is detrimental to their mental health and can have lasting effects including depression, suicide, and PTSD. When I grew up Dr. Spock was the rule of the land and playing doctor was a given and adults shouldn't get overly upset little Johnny showed little Sally his little willy. I certainly didn't have any problem seeing little Johnny's little willy other than his little willy was heck of a lot longer the my little willy and he could get a stiffy, too. Damned little bugger. I’m going to handle 319 like I did The G.M.Os. and write nearly all of it before starting to publish just so I don’t get hung up somewhere in the middle with a real block and can’t write for months. I don’t think I’ll have a problem because I’ll be looking at a four-year time period for the story. In theory that could take up to 48 or more chapters at a minimum. This thing could go on forever. With Sharon’s new job and longer commute, it now takes longer for my edited stuff to get back so that just might help, too. I could write 10 or so chapters to see how it’s going and if it’s a viable project and then start publishing while I write ahead. The only danger to that is running into a wall and ending up having to force myself to write, which definitely does not work anymore. That’s the one thing I’ve learned about this new mental state. I can’t force myself to write, I have to be content to write when the muse taps me on the shoulder and tells me it’s time to sit down and write for a spell. Like I’m doing today, 2,500 words on the story and, now, a blog entry. I posted Chapter 1 of 319 on Sneak Peeks, so if you want to read it, it’s there. I hope you like it. Now, do I turn on the TV or try to start the next chapter? I could go try to find a story to read since the new anthology is out. No, I think I’ll try to work further on 319. I’ve got the music going and that’s kind of soothing, too, though I do catch myself sometimes listening a little carefully when a particular song comes up. Today, one such song was Dave Edmund’s “Born to be With You.” I think for the first time ever I really listened to his voice. The recording is one of his early ones when he was using the Phil Specter echo chamber and Dave’s tenor comes across almost angelic.

My life was over. There was nothing left to do except get my sorry ass out of the picture. Mother was totally unreachable. It was as if she dropped off the face of the earth. I tried to go to the funeral, but Uncle Frank was at the door and no matter how much Mr. Patterson argued with the stubborn fool, I was not admitted to say goodbye to my little sister. I left in sobs. I couldn’t help it. When we returned to their house, Mrs. Patterson gave me another tranquilizer and I went away for a whi

Chapter 20 Ship Clock 262349 Abner (Abe) 34-793k Li (Lee) 32-413f Prisoners, Part 1 After lunch, a security bot escort took Abe and Don down to the medical floor and they went into Gene’s room. He was lying in his bed with a bewildered look on his face. He appeared not to even notice Abe. “Hi, Gene, I’ve brought someone you might want to meet,” Abe said. Gene didn’t look over at Abe. He just kept staring straight ahead. “Dadi, is something wrong with Dadi Gene?” “It appears so,” Abe

Mark, as my truly favorite series writer, I hope you’ll be able to weather this storm whether it is external or internal in short order and get back to posting some chapters. Though, I’m sure Sharon appreciates this break considering her new job and commute. Maybe I’ll get my stuff back sooner for a while Having been through blocks myself (I’m currently in a chemically induced semi-block), my only suggestion is to try writing other things, even if it isn’t fiction. Just putting words down and connecting them into coherent thoughts sometimes relights the creative flame. You might consider doing some blog entries, even if they’re nothing more than drivel. Or, when you do come back, slow down your production a little bit. You do seem to be rather prodigious in the amount of chapters you’re able to publish in CAP and Bridgemont at the same time. Whatever you do, DO NOT FORCE YOURSELF TO WRITE! That will only perpetuate whatever it is that is holding you back. Now is a time for reflection, contemplation, and, if possible, creative experimentation.

'Tis the season, Girl Scout cookies are out and it's time for some serious money exchanging and pigging out on Thin Mints, which have to be the most cost effective cookie in the collection. My son likes Samoas, which are good because chocolate goes well with coconut, but not they're not as good as Thin Mints in my opinion. I'm a chocolate and mint kind of guy. Chocolate mint ice cream, creme de menthe over chocolate ice cream, grasshopper cocktail, grasshopper pie, York Peppermint Patties, Andes chocolates, the list could go on forever. Tonight for dinner my son barbecued cheap grocery store filet mignons. Ours didn't fit the traditional description in that they were not thick slices of beef tenderloin. We could've had the prime New York strips the store sells and had gotten thicker steaks. But, no, he had to pay big bucks to get something special, which they were, but come on, with a few hickory chips any steak will taste good. Next time we buy steaks, I'm opting for the New York strips or T-bones. I've started a new story in an attempt to keep the creative juices flowing if that is possible. It's a continuation of Remembering Tim and will take place in the early Eighties after Geoff has inherited a gob of money from his Uncle Walter's estate and bought a large Queen Anne style house in Warnton, NY, small college town in apple country of Upstate New York between Syracuse and Rochester. He's a professor of linguistics and hires a needy freshman as a houseboy. In his mind he's doing the boy a favor by giving him monetary and academic assistance, but the boy is incredibly cute and all the wrong synapses in Geoff's brain are going off every time they get close. I think it will be a good exercise to see if I can keep my mind going while waiting for the new puppy to arrive in May. And, then? I don't know, maybe I can keep it going until I've written the obligatory 20 chapters, or more if I take it until the boy either dies (Geoff does have a problem with people dying around him), flunks out of school, or graduates, whichever makes the most sense. I can't make any promises on this other than I hopes it helps my now stable though drugged mental state maintain some sense of normalcy.

Great chapter! Finally, Twoey has the boy of his heart. I'm glad for him, but there is still that horrible test coming sometime in the future. I hope it doesn't tear them apart. Too bad David isn't ready to admit his true feelings. I can see he's close, really close, but it's such a difficult step to actually admit you dance to a different rhythm.

Great chapter! So, Twoey doesn't remember what happened, not surprising. Just have to see how he reacts when he's told. I suppose he'll ask why Danny doesn't come to the hospital to visit him. That's bound to happen. It's surprising how much David internalizes everything, trying to have a plan for a situation. Having been a parent, I suspect why his step-mother is going into his room, but he's not that kind of kid so he's safe. I kind of wish she would try to be a little nicer, but her religion is running her life and she can't see the trouble she's causing. I hope she doesn't try something too drastic. David doesn't deserve that.

I've liked too many chapters and ran out! Good chapter, but Twoey's premonitions. (Or, was it Danny who said it first?) Obviously, there's something coming that will test Twoey and David's foreverness. A horrible test? What could be so horrible as to be outed to an entire high school? Unfortunately, that's about as horrible as I can come up with. Will have to wait and see. It's nice to see David stand up to Pastor Enos, but a good thing he didn't hit him, though it certainly might have helped see there was something troubling the boy. Kathy? Well, since David is planning on dumping her, why should he worry if she's trying to get back in Cal's pants?

I like the way you had David meditating on Twoey's condition, willing him to get better. The dream was a nice touch, too, especially having Twoey pick up on that in his mind. Of course, Twoey's mother knows of her son's interest in Blondie, but what's with having David come over after Twoey comes home from the hospital. Women can be so devious sometimes. "I'll teach you how to cook and my son can make goo-goo eyes at you all at the same time." Sheesh! Good chapter, glad I finally broke down and started to read it.

Each of us react to death in different ways. I was kind of put out by the overreaction by David. Sure Danny's future is cut short, but characters die, even if they're semi-biographical. Maybe it's David's emotional state that overreacts to situations that's tearing him apart. He definitely needs psychological help and I hope he can get it. Danny's father's homophobia is fully apparent and I suspect he selfishly realized his self-image of militaristic glory would be destroyed by his overreaction. Or, maybe, his wife did the dastardly deed? At least we can hope Twoey will come out of this intact, but is something bad going to come out of this for him, too? Will the new reports say that both boys were naked at the time of the shooting? That would certainly fuel a small town's gossip-mill. Another great chapter even if it was a bit sappy.

Damn! It was a gun! Poor Twoey. Good thing there are quite a few weeks to go in his young life, but what about Danny? Unfortunately, according to the premonitions there's not much hope for him, poor kid.

Poor David, a step-mother who is so religious she has no idea of the damage she's doing to a member of her household. Well, shit happens and it's unfortunate that people use religion to ruin the lives of others. Well, there's that premonition gun, again. Who are you going to shoot with it? Twoey? Danny? David? I guess we'll just have to wait and see.