Blog Props ~ Random Stream of Consciousness

In a recent post, I invited participants in my Resurrection Blogfest to reach out to me if they wanted a reminder e-mail close to The Big Day, in case they also were sufferers of Momnesia (like me) or its sinister counterpart, Dadnesia. Not too long after that post went live, I received the following e-mail:

*stands up from chair, looking nervous*

"Hi everyone. My name is Wayne and I have Dadnesia"

*everyone* "Hi Wayne."

"It affects almost everything I do. The other day I went to work with one brown shoe and one black shoe on. I'd forget my face if it wasn't stuck to my head. I fear it may control my life soon."

*helpful person in group with a shiny badge that says "I didn't forget for three months!"* "Don't worry Wayne, we can help you."

*everyone else makes positive sounds and says things like "Hang in there buddy."*

"You see I have this really important Blogfest on November the seventh. Mina Lobo might be disappointed if I don't post on time."

*helpful person* "Ah, Mina. She was in here last week. Now she remembers things by tying knots in a dark purple silk 'kerchief."

"I don't have a dark purple silk'kerchief. Woe, woe and thrice woe. I am undone."

"Maybe you should email her to get her to remind you?"

"Sounds great. How will I remember to do that...?"

"Hmm. Have you a 'kerchief?"

"Sadly no."

"Ah. Looks like you're fucked then."

*everyone else shows 'kerchiefs of myriad colours with knots in and murmur things akin to "Yep, fucked." and "Where did this loser come from?"

"You know what, I want my money back."

"Sorry friend, no refunds."

Remind me Mina. Otherwise I am lost.

Folks, I was giggling like Wilma Flintstone on acid after reading, "Woe, woe and thrice woe. I am undone," which doesn't happen often. (Fine—not as often as you'd expect, all right? Sheesh.) Anyway, this brilliant bit of fun came from Wayne Assiratti (OMG, isn't that the freakin' coolest last name?????) of Random Stream of Consciousness.

Click here to feed the frog. (Not a euphemism.)

So, who is this Wayne fella? Well, in response to a previous blog post of mine, Wayne wrote of himself, "I'm a husband and father, rocker and roller, sometimes a right out of controller with a penchant for words, music and a tendency to be over generous (sometimes a fault my wife complains), also I always believe that people are inherently good and circumstances change their behaviour and perspective, that viewpoint can sometimes affect me detrimentally!"  You can learn more about his sordid past and raison de blogging by clicking here.

Wayne explores writing of various types on his blog, from very short fiction to a longer work in progress he's putting up in installments. Here are some more samples of his work, posted here with his kind permission:

Scarlet

Of late, things in town were getting worse and worse. The newcomers had been taking liberties with land, property and now the women. She knew that it was only a matter of time before they got to her. First with honeyed words that after refusal would turn to curses, knives and taking by force. She picked up the gun.

***

An excerpt from the second installment of Reunion

He turned around to see the young man in the bed looking at him. He couldn't have been more than 21. His skin looked like dark satin in the light from the city through the window. Unblinking, the young man said in his thick accent "Again?"

"No. Thank you."

"Then you pay me. I go." He smiled.

"Do you know who I am?"

"Yes." That smile again. "Don't worry. I tell no one." He pulled on his clothes in a way that was almost as pleasing to the eye as the way he took them off earlier. "If I told a news man what I know about the powerful men in this city, I would be dead one hour later."

"Ah. Well, here is your money." said Richard, feeling awkward "You really are quite beautiful you know."

"The young man kissed him on the lips. "So are you. Goodnight Mr Blake. Maybe another time, yes?"

Richard grinned "Next time I'm in Riyadh." Both men smiled at this little game.

"Now go," said Richard, shutting the door. "I really should call my wife."

***

Oh, SNAP! OK, so it's not all fun and games with Mr. Assiratti of the Colossally Cool Surname, but it is entertaining writing which I highly recommend y'all check out (do it, Do It, DO IT NOW!!!). Ahem. You know, when you get a chance...