Friday, March 26, 2010

Yet another write for ten project...

Switch genders. What would you be doing with your life?

Switch genders? You got to be crazy. No way. No how.

Do you think I want to go through life having dirty old men (like me) look only at my boobs and ass? Nope.

I can cook, but I don't really like to. Do I want to be the responsible one for every lunch and dinner? Nope.

I know how to do my own laundry. But, again, I don't like to do it. Do the entire family's laundry? No way. I don't know how to sort clothes like a woman and I don't want to learn.

Crying is not my bag. Tearing up over some soap opera, some steamy romantic novel, or some picture of an ugly baby is just not me.

I have a hard enough time surviving on my male's salary. Do I want to do the same job for 75% of the pay as a woman. Nope.

I can currently get up, do my bathroom thing, get dressed and be out the door in 10 minutes. A woman? She takes longer than that to just comb her hair or make up her eyes. No thank you.

I hate shopping. I can't imagine spending 90 minutes in every clothing store at the mall in order to find an outfit that I don't need to put in a closet that has no room left to hang it.

Now, I must admit it would be nice for someone else to take out the trash every night, take the trash to curbside on Monday and Thursday nights, put gas in my car, remember to take my car when it is due an oil change, pay the mortgage, fix things that I break, and give me money so I can shop till I drop. But, change genders? Never.

Ladies, before you get your undies in a knot, remember this:

Stereotypes wouldn't be stereotypes if they weren't stereotypes.

Monday, March 22, 2010

Another Write for Ten project...

Are you a pet person? What pets do you currently have? If none, why? What pet would you like to have?

I like pets, particularly dogs -- although for reason, I am afraid of an unknown large dog.

Never had pets as a kid. Wife and I had a couple of dogs early on. A registered collie "Jolie Lassie" that was a super dog. And, a mutt for a while in Rockledge.

When the kids were small, they had a whole passel of gerbils and hampsters. Keep threatening to give the grandson a hampster and my daughter smiles and shakes her head no. Damn!

My wife is a bird lady. She kept a pair of cockatiels for 15 years. We bird set for a blue and gold macaw for a year and he was such a dream, that we later bought one. Who was noisy and only semi-tame. Not a good combination.

Her latest is a scarlet macaw and her and bird get along famously. She can do anything with him. He'll even play dead in the palm of her hand. BUT... (you knew that was coming, right?) Rocky absolutely is a one-person bird and will attack any and every one any chance he gets.

Which means that the sliding glass doors to the Florida room (aka, the bird room) must be kept closed at all times or else here he comes, using his clipped wings to help propel him across the floor to attack my feet. Hence, I cannot go barefoot in the house. And my every day boots have huge holes and gouges in them from his large beak.

One day, I swear, I'm going to see if that damn bird tastes like chicken.

Sunday, March 21, 2010

Write the first five paragraphs of your next novel.

The advantages of being one of the many homeless in St. Petersburg is that people ignore you, they don't make eye contact, you are essentially invisible. Which helps when you are on an important mission.

My street name is Sticky. I'm not homeless, I just like to walk around downtown and help those that are. For my safety, I dress down in an old overcoat that, true to my street name, contains several different instant glue products in the various pockets. Need the sole of your sneakers glued back on? Look for Sticky. If they only knew that I am a chemical engineer who retired from the adhesive business, am quite well off and live in a penthouse condo on the waterfront with its own entrance and elevator.

The Rays baseball team is threatening to move to another location. In my other, retired, life, I move in the business world locally and know that the owner is secretly set to jet to Orlando to sign an agreement to move the team there. He is scheduled to leave the office at 10 a.m. to catch his business jet. Since I believe they should adhere to the contract they have with the city and not stick the taxpayers with any more liabilities than we already stupidly have assumed, I have taken a few steps to insure he misses that flight and his deadline to close the deal.

Overnight, thanks to one of my homeless connections, I worked as a fill-in janitor in the Rays office. I was able to leave the owner a couple little presents. One was a brownie laced with Exlax on his desk. The other? A special pressure sensitive super glue on the toilet seat and on the hand rail alongside the john.

I've been standing on the corner by the office observing. He arrived at 8:30. It is now 9:30 and, oh yes, here comes the fire rescue squad and an ambulance now!

Did I mention that I also put special glue capsules under the toilet seat so it will be firmly fastened to the porcelain base?