tam_albright: (Default)
Due to technical difficulties, once again I am not able to post my latest blog here. (It seems like I can post from my lj, which cross posts to Twitter and Facebook, but I am unable to do so here. Uploading pics from my computer is also a problem.)

So, if you're interested in finding out what Mark Twain and erotica has in common, clicky here.

Also, if you would like to follow me on Twitter, LiveJournal, or Facebook, feel free to do so. 
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The Twelve Days of the Season
by Tam Albright

On the first day of the season,
my loved ones asked of me,
“Are there enough ideas for your WIP?”
 
So, on the second day of the season,
my loved ones gifted me,
withTwo back up hard drives,
And enough ideas for my WIP.
 
On the third day of the season,
my loved ones helped some more, with
Three unrelated plot bunnies,
Two back up hard drives,
And enough ideas for my WIP.

On the fourth day of the season,
The blinking cursor mocked: 
(Many four-letter swear words,)
Three unrelated plot bunnies, 
Two back up hard drives,
And enough ideas for my WIP.
 
On the fifth day of the season,
my loved ones distracted me:
Five times I forgot to hit “SAVE!”
(More four-letter swear words,)
Three unrelated plot bunnies,
Two back up hard drives,
And enough ideas for my WIP.

On the sixth day of the season,
I wrote my loved ones in:
Six doomed characters,
Five times I forgot to hit “SAVE!”
(F-dash-dash-dash word,)
Three unrelated plot bunnies,
Two back up hard drives,
And enough ideas for my WIP.
 
On the seventh day of the season,
I vented to the Net:
Seven writing #hash-tags,
Six doomed characters,
Five times I forgot to hit “SAVE!”
(Still swearing swear words,)
Three unrelated plot bunnies,
Two back up hard drives,
And enough ideas for my WIP.

On the eighth day of the season,
my loved ones gave me advice:                                                
Eight clichéd phrases,
Seven writing #hash-tags,
Six doomed characters,
Five times I forgot to hit “SAVE!”
(*eye-roll* Four-letter swear words,)
Three unrelated plot bunnies,
Two back up hard drives,
And enough ideas for my WIP.   

On the ninth day of the season,
my “hobby” was discussed:
Yeah, nine old trunked novels,
Eight clichéd phrases,
Seven writing #hash-tags,
Six doomed characters,
Five times I forgot to hit “SAVE!”
(“I’m a sailor” swear words,)
Three unrelated plot bunnies,
Two back up hard drives,
And enough ideas for my WIP.

On the tenth day of the season,
I became quite desperate:
Ten magical McGuffins,
Nine old trunked novels,
Eight clichéd phrases,
Seven writing #hash-tags,
Six doomed characters,
Five times I forgot to hit “SAVE!”
(Swear words just to say them,)
Three unrelated plot bunnies,
Two back up hard drives,   
And enough ideas for my WIP.
 
On the eleventh day of the season,
with my loved ones fast asleep, I had
Eleven cups a-coffee,
Ten magical McGuffins,
Nine old trunked novels,
Eight clichéd phrases,
Seven writing #hash-tags,
Six doomed characters,
Five times I forgot to hit “SAVE!”
(Four-letter swear words,)
Three unrelated plot bunnies,
Two back up hard drives,
And enough ideas for my WIP.
 
On the twelfth day of the season,
my loved ones got the drift:
Twelve uninterrupted hours,
Eleven cups a-coffee,
Ten magical McGuffins,
Nine old trunked novels,
Eight clichéd phrases,
Seven writing #hash-tags,
Six doomed characters,
Five times I forgot to hit “SAVE!”
(I still can’t believe I did that,)
Three unrelated plot bunnies,
Two back up hard drives,
 
And enough ideas for my WIP!

Happy Holidays, Everyone!


X-posted from http://www.spectaclepmg.com/
tam_albright: (Default)
As he was dressing for school, my oldest son noticed that the slacks to his uniform had a huge hole in the crotch. "Um, Dad? Either my parts are growing bigger ... or my pants are falling apart." Hubs chokes on his coffee, while I scramble -- blind from laughing and crying -- to fix them. My Mom however, isn't phased. With a straight face, she pats her grandson on the back: "You sure you want Mom to fix those? After all, it's supposed to get warm today. You might need the extra air conditioning for those bigger parts." "No, Grandma! If I go to school with them like that, the girls will see me and then I'll really be in trouble!"  ... yeah. That magic hormonal number Twelve is so looming in our future.

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tam_albright

April 2012

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