When ADD Loses Focus; How To Write A Bad Bloggie


So. I got frustrated today and hopped into the GTO to go fix the problem. The problem is that after weeks of following procedures for getting my book for sale at the local bookstore, I am exactly where I started, when I started weeks ago, and that is no fucking where.

That has to make sense.

There’s this one guy who holds the golden key to unlock the gates to shelf space at the bookstore, and he is ignoring me. That or he is too busy to do this part of his job, or he is a right-wing fascist fuckball who won’t put my book in the store because of my politics. Whatever the reason, I find it unreasonable that the bookstore that touts itself as “local author friendly” is so very unfriendly with a local author.

In case things got out of hand, I left the cat and dogs behind. I can’t always find someone to pick them up from the jail right away and the Squirt says Yoda doesn’t like jail. As for the fucking cat, Honor would shred somebody’s arms and then I’d have to deal with that. Squirt likes jail, thinks of getting locked up as personal growth.

Anyway, I was alone and headed to the bookstore to pay my fee and get my book on the shelf for sale. Nope. Didn’t happen. I’m giving this little situation until the end of the week, and if we get no resolution by then, I’m gonna full-disclosure their asses.

After becoming ever more frustrated with the as yet unnamed bookstore, I left their parking lot and headed south on Lamar. At 5th Street I turned left and headed to Congress Avenue. I decided to eat lunch at one of the South Congress food trucks that are set on a gravel lot near Guerros Taco Bar. It’s a mobile food truck park, like a trailer park, but with food. Good food.

I turned onto Congress, crossed the river and headed up the hill. I got just a couple blocks when I noticed a young woman on a moped. She had a big mop of bright red hair tied into a tangled knot atop her head, she wore a black bomber jacket, a huge bug-eating grin, and a mini dress that exposed half-a-mile of creamy legs. I saw her approach in my left rear-view mirror and my eyes seemed to catch a glimpse of a Sharon Stone.

With my eyes on the rear-view, the GTO almost hit a parked car on my right, which reminds me. In its infinite wisdom, the City of Austin has installed these silly-assed reverse-angle parking spaces all along South Congress. Instead of pulling forward into a 45-degree angled slot head first, you drive past your chosen spot, stop and then back in place into a reverse-angle slot. I’ve heard all the reasons why this is a good plan to increase the numbers of slots and safety and all of that…

But that is the single dumbest parking dealie I have ever seen, and I’ve been to San Francisco and Rome.

The car I almost hit was an old Cadillac with its tail fins stuck a few feet into traffic. Obviously its owner has no more respect for this reverse angle silliness than do I. I swerved and honked, of course I honked, and scared the woman on the moped. She jumped off the seat and almost crashed. When she jumped off the seat I got a confirmed sighting of a Sharon Stone.

She regained control of the little motor bike and passed me with a flip of a bird and a screamed, “Fuck You, Asshole!”

I felt like an asshole for scaring her, so I followed her to apologize. I opened my window and waved at her six or eight times, but she kept looking back at me and speeding up. I’m tenacious if I’m a day over twenty-one, so I kept it up. I wanted to say, “I’m sorry if I scared you, maybe you should wear undies when you drive that thing, are you married?”

I’d followed her a mile or so south when a cop ahead of us pulled into the shopping center at Oltorff, and the redhead sped in after him. That’s when the red lights went off inside my skull and I passed the center, pulled into Habana and drove behind their building. Habana is a good place to eat, but not a trailer, so I watched until the cop sped past and I exited to drive back north up Congress.

Holy shit but this is starting to sound like an Incident Report. I didn’t get arrested but I did lose focus, and I ended up on this little one-block long street named College Avenue. On it is Lucy’s Fried Chicken, a new chicken joint. It’s this nifty little Austin funky place with a varied menu and nice staff. Will waited on me and was very helpful. He wasn’t afraid to say what he likes best from the menu and he wasn’t stuffy.

I got what they call Gizzers, a gizzard and liver combo basket of chicken fried wonderment. The meat was sweet and clean—soaked in buttermilk before frying to crisp perfection—and they were served with a spicy chipotle dipping sauce that was perfect. The also serve raw oysters and good sides and have daily specials that indicate not just cooks, but a chef resides in the kitchen.

OK, wait. They called them Lizards, not Gizzers. But who really gives a shit what they called them, they were great. I gave Will a copy of Full Rising Mooner and he promised to report back when finished.

Having successfully given one book away, I decided to push my luck and go for a second giveaway. I drove to Flipnotics coffee shop on Barton Springs, one of my favorite places in Austin. I could go on for hours about this place, but let me say that Chris was making coffee when I walked in. Chris is an author so I gave him a book and walked to the upstairs and in the back area and sat on the sofa.

There was a young man of maybe thirty holding court with three women. I think he was a writing coach or something and he was speaking rapid-fire and waving his arms, as if arm waving would add importance to the over-wrought erudite-ness of his patter. I couldn’t understand what he was trying to say, but he had the ladies full attentions. I decided to not bother them, finished my coffee and walked out.

Is this boring you as much as it is me? I realize that my mind has been focused since the third paragraph up there, and I’m starting to realize that I’m boring as shit without my ADHD. Which reminds me. Brandini over to My Private Idaho is a bloggie expert, and last week he wrote a smart story on proper blogging etiquette. He says that you need fewer than 500 words in each posting and that you have to put three photos or picto-graphics in each, or you lose readers.

This little ditty is already more than 1,300 words, and I don’t have a pic for you and couldn’t post a graphic to save Brandini’s life. Which in turn reminds me that I might have a pic to post. Squatlo accused me of dishonesty when I was talking about the dogs eating weeds. I’m going to go take a photo of some weed eating and I might get one of his acrobatic dog squats as well. I can get him to eat on command, but he’ll only shit at will.

If there is a photo attached after all of these too many words, I was successful. If not… I don’t know what if not. I’ll keep trying. Manana, y’all.

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9 Responses to “When ADD Loses Focus; How To Write A Bad Bloggie”

  1. mel says:

    you could go on for at least 2000 words before you would lose me….and that shit head at the as yet undisclosed bookstore is an idiot. wish i had more to say, but my head is throbbing and i can’t thing straight enough to do so…hope all is well otherwise.

  2. chrisinphx says:

    I understand Mooner, my mastiff Goober, will eat anything that fits in his mouth…rocks, balls, shoes, poop, it doesnt matter. If he can swollow and your not looking at him he will.

  3. bj says:

    Hmmmm ….. you makin’ them Gizzer/Lizards sound too damn good! Do they DELIVER, over to Lucy’s?
    Had the same kinda thing happen with a blonde inna VW Bug back when I was ridin’ on two wheels. I swerved to avoid a kid’s soccer ball that came rolling out from between two parked cars and damn near hit the pretty lady. She flipped me off and yelled “Dumbass!”, much like yorn did. BUT unlike you I didn’t see the M’boro cop in the parking lot we both pulled into until she jumped out and ran to his prowler (do they still call patrol cars ‘prowlers’?) screaming “He’s CHASING Me!” at the top of her lungs. I pulled up, cut off my bike and started apologizing reeeeeeal quick like and smoothed everything over. Got her phone number, too. (no it wasn’t the number to Woodfins ……
    ps: ain’t no pitchers posted on this page …. but I’ll give ya’ a dime for one o’ them one-legged, upside down, Yoga style, shit takin’s that Olga … I mean Yoda, does

  4. bj says:

    pss: Hope you get to feelin’ better, Ms. Melanie ….
    and PSSer: Mooner, just go on and post the name and address of that book store …. I’ll call again and again asking if they carry Full Rising Mooner ….. and why the fuck NOT?

  5. mel says:

    Awww…thanks…I have been feeling like SUCH a broken record, but I honestly do feel like absolute shite!

  6. admin says:

    Mel. Thanks for the tenacity with my rambling. My head is throbbing as well, but I’m thinking you mean you skull, and not in a good way. I’m thinking the pall of your maladies will begin its thaw as winter warms to springtime. I’m thinking good thoughts for you.

    Christo. A mastiff? I’d let him eat anything he wanted as long as it wasn’t me.

    Beej. I love me some fried chicken innards. My very favorite organ is their little lungs from the underside of the back. My favorite piece is the back. It’s hell when your good intent get misinterpreted as stalking. Not my first time. What was the Bug driver’s name?

  7. squatlo says:

    Listen, all you chicken neck sucking people… there are certain parts of the bird that are meant to end up as cat food or fertilizer, and you people are behaving as if you’re cave men incapable of finding real food. Don’t eat lungs, gizzards, livers, brains, or hearts… this isn’t Bejing… Gag me with a damn spoon, that’s disgusting as shit.

    Now I fully expect a barrage of retorts telling me that I don’t know what I’m missing, spouting the virtues of soul food, yadda Yoda.
    Keep it. I’m not eating body parts that aren’t muscle, and that’s all there is to it. I’m as carnivoric as anyone, but shit!

  8. admin says:

    Squat. OK, first, hearts are muscles, and second the first black woman I ever fell in love with told me, “A man’s gotta have a soul to like soul food.” Just saying.

    But who really gives a shit anyway. It’s people like you that keeeps the prices low.

  9. bj says:

    Yeah …. I can remember when you fuckers didn’t eat Chicken Wings either and I could get ’em for 70 cents a pound! Now, them sumbitches is $2.79/lb! MMmmmmm …… Guts …… Like Gene Hackman told Lee Marvin in ‘Prime Cuts’ …. “Guts? Yeah …. I eat Guts …. I Love ’em!” Love Me Sum Guts!

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