Another Day to Screech...

It's not that I like to complain but I've about had it with the multitude of requests I receive to improve my credit rating, earn a police officer's degree, donate to save the Ilimutirak three-legged mouse, look up old classmates, find an over fifty friend, cleanse my colon, or enhance my sexual life. The most frequent request that sends me to the mountain top is the Enlarge Your Penis invitation. It usually follows the Pay Less for the Blue Pill advertisement. Someone in a foreign country believes I need to improvement my bedtime romps. Holy Cow!!

I would use another expletive but this is open to the public...so I'll just say Holy Cow again and you figure out what I want to say, what I really mean. Imagine a two word ripper and it is not 'Let's Dance.'

Do I want a Penis Enlargement? "H.C." I don't even have a Penis. If I did, I definitely wouldn't buy anything over the internet. I'm one of those naturalists...but if I were a male and turned out to be a 'minimalist'...maybe someone with bad eyes and a large imagination would love me anyhow. On that note, I don't want my breasts enlarged either! And I've not missed any loving in that department, either.

Why does this bombardment continue? Or better yet....why does it even exist? How many senseless, hopeless, worthless people are out there? I mean the rogues who sell the products. Yee gads, normal people with at least an IQ of 70 would know this is all pure junk. Wouldn't they?

Sure I can report it all to Spam, and I do, but it keeps on flowing downstream like the muddy Mississippi. A terrible flood this past week. Overflowing. Flotsam and jetsam up to my thighs.

What I'd like to do is send all this junk back to the originators.

Is there some genius, techy, hacker out there who can figure out a way to volley this crap right back to the senders? Jam their systems. Put them out of business. Come on, let's figure out a way to sabotage these small penised, bad debtors, stuffed colons, undereducated internet abusers. Come on, we can win this battle. Toss around some ideas. Let's get rid of the junk!

Big Names...Bad Books...

Have you noticed the trend: Big name authors are writing stories out of their successful genres. Why? It generates a multitude of sales because of name recognition. I fell for the scheme recently. Bought a book by David Baldacci...who I believe is an excellent writer and has, in the past, created interesting, insightful stories loaded with believable characters who take crime and suspense to the federal level. I bought 'his' latest work...Summer something...it's so bad I don't remember the title. And I don't want to remember the title. This story is totally weak, amateurish: the plot--if you can call it that--floats like a wet donut scraped off a plate at the bottom of the sink. Granted it's tissue intended...as it tries to compete with the Nicholas Sparks hearty achey stories. But it falls so flat and far from a substance story that you begin to believe Baldacci had a ghost writer pecking away at his keyboard. Here's the jest of it: Dying man saying goodbye to his family, wife dies instead, he makes miraculous recovery and moves his family to the beach to recover. Hmmmm...maybe not a bad idea. But beyond the back cover blurb, you get nothing but idle chatter, weak characters and predictable, meaningless dialogue. Here's what I purpose: Big name writers---take the money and run. Don't ruin your reputation on junk writing just to get a book out to market. It reminds me of 'this little piggy went to market' ... the successful one stayed home. Wasn't fried for bacon. Didn't disappoint his audience, didn't cause a negative rebound in his sales. I'd be hard pressed to buy Baldacci again...his next novel would have to get such high reviews and publicity coverage before I'd put my foot in the water. Beach story...blah, blah, blah....bypass "....Summer....something..." and pick up a Harlequin romance. You'll be pleased by your decision.

A funny book to read...

Title: The Herring in the Library
Author: L.C. Tyler
Publisher: Felony & Mayhem Press
ISBN: 978-1-934609-76-7


If you bloody well love British humor, then the third Ethelred and Elsie mystery will be a perfect late summer beach read. L.C. Tyler pulls together the classic components of a courtly mystery in this clever who-done-it: An English estate, murder victim in a locked room, bungling detectives, and rich but rather seedy characters. The scene of the crime is a stately mahogany library with a secret door and you have another Tyler winner.

Tyler has had a fair share of Edgar nominations, but this one makes you laugh out loud. And for readers who are also writers, an agent paired with a not- so-talented writer, gives the amateur sleuths a twist that makes your lips curl with envy. She manages to sell his books between chocolate fixes and he just can’t get on with the next page of his work in progress. Together they stumble and bumble to uncover a chapter full of clues that professional detectives have been eager to ignore.

If I had reason to fault the plot line, I’d question the story within the story…but you’ve got to read the quirky book first to appreciate the critique. The prose is Monty Python priceless. Example of a disinterested fellow: “He was looking at the floor as if he had developed a sudden interest in faded, moth-eaten carpets.” Or the not- so- sad murder: “She and Dave Peart confirm they were together in the kitchen when Shagger popped his clogs.” Popped his clogs?

So why not pop your fanny in a comfy spot on the lawn, open The Herring in the Library, have an umbrella ready in case the London wets return, and read how Shagger Muntham and his un-titled wife end their dismal marriage. Murder isn’t always fun but it sometimes leads to happy endings.