We Get By With A Little Help From Our Friends....

Ok, I know. I've been a bad bad blogger. I just haven't found that muse yet. Even though I've been searching for her high and low. She's hiding...somewhere. If you find her over at your blog, please chastise her and send her back to mine.

I've had a lot going on in life....something that I will most likely choose to reveal at some later point. But, given my penchant for avoiding personal issues, I am, instead, using the scattered few who still bother to read this blog to help a friend.

WARNING: Shameless plug to follow.

Ok, so it doesn't hurt that a friend of mine is running a contest to "encourage" her friends to help her promote her new e-book. But really, the free box of books she's offering would just be added to the 20+ books on my shelf that I swear I'll "get to" by the end of the year.

Her name is Amanda Brice, and she's recently fallen into some success with her writing. Since most bloggers are either real writers trying to "make it" or people secretly-wishing-they-had-the-balls-to-be-real-writers trying to make it, I thought you all might appreciate her desire to promote herself.

One of her short stories was recently picked up by a small non-subsidy publishing house called Freya's Bower. It's neat because they don't print publish, they only e-publish, but they pay out royalties and everything. Freya's Bower primarily publishes erotica and romantica.

Amanda was hoping her friends would spread the word -- so that's what this is all about. Amanda's writing is in the "Chick Lit" genre. Think "Bridget Jones' Diary." Her story is entitled "She's Got Legs," and was an engaging read. (Yes, I read it...and yes, I paid the $2.00 for it online). So, if you're in the mood for some "chick lit," please check it out. It's fun...and at 18 pages, you can read it in the blink of an eye.

Here's a blurb of the book:

SHE'S GOT LEGS by Amanda Brice

Daria Wyatt didn't want to go to her fifteen-year high school reunion. Although she has blossomed from a wallflower into a powerful Capitol Hill attorney, she knew seeing those girls in person wouldn't exactly do wonders for her self-esteem. If only her younger sister Kara hadn't insisted she go. Giving in to shut her sister up, Daria borrows Kara's high heels in an effort to jumpstart her confidence. But in her rush to get out the door, she picks up the wrong pair, a butt-ugly purple platform creation with bright green sequins...

Greg McCauley can't believe his bad luck. He finally meets a beautiful, intelligent, intriguing, confident woman, but she rushes off before he can get her number. He knows he should put her out of his mind, but there's just something about her. Those lips, those eyes, those legs, those crazy shoes...

If you're interested, you can order the book here. It's a whopping $2.00. Come on, you can afford it.

If you're interested in knowing more about the elusive Amanda Brice, check out an interview with here here, or check out her blog

Re-labeling

Apparently there is quite a hullaballo in geekdom about whether or not Pluto should be considered a planet.

I guess this debate has been going on for decades, as some astronomers consider the smallest "planet" in our solar system to be something other than a "planet." Suggestions have ranged from deleting it from our roles as a planet to calling it an "ice dwarf planet."

The real controversy arose, however, when the heavenly body Xena was discovered. (No, I'm not referring to Lucy Lawless -- although she is quite fetching. Although, her character Xena the Warrior Princess is who the discoverer named the celestial object after. Please see my reference to "geekdom" above for further clarification.)

Astronomers are hoping a unified answer will come out of the next Star Trek conference. Well, not really, but there is going to be a meeting of the International Astronomical Union in Prague. Same thing, in my mind. Participants in the 12-day conference will decide on the definition of "planet," and whether the science we've been learning for years is wrong.


All in all, I personally don't really care what happens with good ol' Pluto. After all, since I'm a product of public school systems, it took me years to realize that Pluto and "Bluto" from Popeye were different things.

But, imagine the ramifications of this type of relabeling. I mean, if we're so concerned about the labels being applied to celstial bodies, what's going to happen when word of this spreads? Think about it:

Countries: We could redefine the term "country" to include only desirable traits. As a result, Bahrain would lose its country status as long as Michael Jackson resided there. Cuba would be deleted from the roles as long as Castro insisted on wearing a Harlem Globetrotters uniform for pictures regarding his health. Fictitious Zemunda would become a country because, well, who wouldn't like a country that has Eddie Murphy as a prince and James Earl Jones as a lion wearing king?

Sports: If today's growing younger population had a say, video gaming would top the list of sports as soon as a relabeling took effect. After all, who wouldn't eschew the traditional P.E. class for a little X-Box time? Likely, Ice Dancing would no longer hold the coveted sports title because, well, isn't it the same as ice skating?

Political Parties: We could just do away with the Republican Party, the Democratic Party, and even the Green Party. We could just call all sides whiners. This would lead to classification based on issue, instead of having to limit yourself to one particular party. You could be a part of the whiner-about-taxes party or a part of the whiner-about-abortion party. To me, the system would be a lot less restrictive that way...and you could belong to multiple whiner-parties, which would result in several $1,000 plate dinner invitations in a year.

You're probably thinking, "Surely, Curare can't be serious?" Well, my only response to you is, "I am serious, and don't call me Shirley."

The Divinyls Dream....

You remember the song, "I Touch Myself," by the Divinyls, don't you? Well, it will soon become the theme song for the expected 200 people who will participate in Europe's first ever "Masturbate-a-thon."

I don't believe Jerry Lewis would approve.

According to the website, "The amount of money you raise will be determined by how many minutes you masturbate and/or how many orgasms you achieve."

Apparently, the current world record is eight hours and thirty minutes. WOW. I'd need some serious sleep and probably more than a few turkey sandwiches to replace all that lost energy.

Apparently, you have to be over 18, and you can bring any aids you need to help you. And no -- you can't masturbate someone else. This has to be a solo act. However, you're welcome to bring yourself to climax in any one of three different rooms: a mixed area, a men's only room, and a women only room. But, there will be screened areas for "private masturbators."

My question: are you really going to be a "private masturbator" if you go out for this thing? I mean, you're willing to COME FOR A CAUSE (that's the slogan) in public. Doesn't that immediately negate any claims to being a "private" masturbator?

Or, that being said, isn't everyone a private masturbator? I mean, what can you masturbate...other than your privates?

In case you're curious, Masturbate-a-thons have a history....they've been staged in San Francisco for the last 6 years and have raised $25,000 for women's health initiatives and HIV prevention. So, if you're not looking to travel to Europe any time soon, don't fret. You'll be able to COME FOR A CAUSE right here in the US of A.

Dangerous Situation

I received this via e-mail ... Author Unknown ... but hilariously funny nonetheless:

You are on a horse, galloping at a constant speed.

On your right side is a sharp drop off.

On your left side is an elephant traveling at the same speed as you.

Directly in front of you is a galloping kangaroo, which your horse is unable to overtake.

Behind you is a lion running at the same speed as you and the kangaroo.

What must you do to safely get out of this highly dangerous situation?

GET YOUR DRUNK ASS OFF THE MERRY-GO-ROUND.

Don't Worry, I've Got Your Back.

With each passing day, my connection with my sordid past becomes more and more attenuated. I mean, I never would have used the words "sordid" or "attenuated" in a sentence in college. Never.

And as I reminisce about those moments, I'm inexplicably drawn back to the bar fights. Yes, the bar fights.

That was back in the day, when I didn't realize that tequila is an evil, evil substance when not mixed with Cointreau and margarita mix. That was back in the day, when I relished being in clubs that were so packed with people you could barely sway to the music.

A recent scientific discovery has shed some light on my shady recollection of those days, however. There is a good reason for the surly, aggressive behavior I exhibited in those wish-they-had-been-more-rare bar fight moments: it was the crowds. It's all THEIR fault.

Apparently, scientists have discovered that ants are more aggressive when in gangs. That's right. Ants fight easier knowing their friends have their back. Or is it back(s)? Does each segment of an ant's exoskeleton have a back, or are they all combined into one back? These are the things that make you go hmmmmm.

At any rate, this discovery makes me feel better about my former behavior. It wasn't my hormones...it was because that girl really was looking at me funny...and I knew someone, anyone, had my back.

This scientific discovery has many implications beyond the ant world. Just think about it:

Lebanon/Israel: we could probably solve this whole thing if we just take some of the people from more crowded areas, and then put them in more desolate areas. (Wait...isn't that what got us into this in the first place?)

Gang Wars: hello?! You never hear about the scourge of gangs in such highly populated areas as the Northwest Territories of Canada. Ship gang members there instead of to overcrowded prisons. They'll come back reformed and knowing how to hide from bears.

Sports: Just making the seats a little farther apart in a stadium may stop the insanity of trampling. Of course, it would also make it harder for the beer guy to get you your beer, which could result in a new scourge of surliness.

The end lesson? Give each other some space people. But always know, I've got your back.

I'm BACK!

Ok, so things slowed down to a molasses like crawl here on Poisonous Points. Work got crazy (i.e., I actually needed to do some work) and I neglected my blog.

My poor little blog. It feels so neglected.

So to make matters worse, instead of posting something of import here, I heeded the Siren's call and am guest posting on Beauty v. The Beast with the ever amazing PHOENIX.

Check it out. More to come here soon...just let me choke down another cup of Hemlock to get my brain functioning again......