kate rothwell

Please to be explaining this, mr. google translate. We put in the line "su conejo te ama" and the translation came back "Your pussy loves you." No, said Mike, conejo means rabbit. So I took away all the words leaving only "conejo" and sure enough, when it was all alone, it was "rabbit" THEN I added it all back, word by word and ended up with "Your bunny loves you." WTF. My guess is that google can do the obscene thing and rabbit is what women call their . . . pussies. But what's with the bunny? How'd did that creep in?

Quick! get to Burger King before the protesting public gets the tray liners removed. These works of veggie weirddom are bound to become collectors items. Here's the one called red light district. My kid's convinced it's all an internet spoof. I wouldn't be surprised. Kind of disappointed, though. People seem most offended by red light but I think the sniper one is ever more jaw-dropping. Jeepers. It's almost enough to make me want to go buy a Whopper to find out if it's true. Also featuring airport with a bdsm pickle strip-searching an onion ...and a couple of others I'm too lazy to link to. You can find them at the bottom of the links I provided. Halloween is pretty blood spattered.

How can a publisher use the first few chapters of an author's story in an anthology without her permission? And here's the original source . Why would NCP want to do that? It all makes no sense. None. And now I'll have to read dear author and the bitches for a few days and plow through all those outraged comments to figure out the whole story. Is it a case of plagiarism by publisher? I've never heard of that one before. An original case of copying. No, sounds like it's more of a case of misuse. They had a contract, but I can't imagine any contract that reads " we can use your chapters any way we want without asking you first. And don't count on getting to finish your own story ." My theory, based on ignorant conjecture, is that it's a case of a terrible break-down of communication and not a matter of cheerful, knowing screw-age of an author. That second scenario would be even dumber than miscommunication and I'm giving them the benefit...

I thought my kid was playing a multi-player game online but no, he is watching a video of a video game in which some players were griefing other players. Little cartoony guys are running around with big guns and yelling at each other. The voices are provided by the annoyed griefed (or would it be grieving?) guys. Lots of "get out of the way, faggot!" Although there is an amusing bit when they argue about bile. Liver, ya moron. Not the spleen. Apparently it is very funny. Here, You too can enjoy hours of fun watching people pretending to be characters pretending to kill for fun. **Makes the fishing channel look almost real. __________ **although I guess that's the basic idea of sitting around and watching say, Good Fellas or MacBeth . . .

broken sobbing alert continues. This state of starry-eyed blubbering is usually only reached after three fruity alcoholic beverages. Ann Aguirre has it. This is the best. She's won. God, this book brings tears to my eyes it's so so so. . . Oh. Lordy. Tumperkin, Carolyn Jean, Carrie, Ann. You are all....Oh. Shit... it's all so beautiful. I was THERE. I was PART OF GENIUS. Oh. OH. Ohhhhh. Now that your nipples and heart are on full turgid alert, go read. Chapter one is at Tumperkin ’s. Chapter two is at Carolyn Jean ’s. Chapter three is at HERE! My Place! Chapter four is at Carrie Lofty’ s. Chapter five is at Ann's. (see above) Chapter six (and the finale!) will be at Lisabea ’s. Links etc lifted directly from Ann's blog. I'm still too verklempt to busy myself with links and trivialities.

I'm somewhere else again, today , blogging about Red Haired Heroine Remarks (aka RHHR, code for WTF? comments about stories.) Part of my wroth week series. Heh. I forgot about it being wroth week. Any suggestions for next week's sin? Maybe greed and it'll be a 3000 calorie chocolate recipe a day. Sloth is nice ...mmmm. Naptime. That will be a week with no entries. Some day I might try for a blog like PBW, with useful facts and ideas. Or maybe not.

Boy2 is walking around imitating a New Zealander who spends fair chunk of tv air-time imitating David Bowie. ch-ch-ch-chaaaanges. The American/Kiwi/British accent is spot on . and Flight of the Conchords is so hawt, babee. Brent! I am 1986 David Bowie from the movie Labyrinth. So. You showed your penis to the man from the greeting card company . Boy2 has now discovered that the series is available on our "on demand" channel (four more months of the cable special deal and that thing's so out of here.) He's memorizing songs from it. He's hanging around youtube, watching "Hiphopopotomus vs. Rhymenoceros," stage version and the special street video. Also "Frodo, Don't Wear That Ring." It may be time to institute some Tough Love.

We went to see Stardust the other day--that's not the confession. (Good movie because all of us liked it. A tough crowd to please.) The confession has to do with the sin of spending more than two minutes of my life pondering Larry Craig's case. Once again, in a public toilet I scootched around trying to see how difficult it would be to reach my foot into the next stall. It was really tough, by the way. Of course Bowtie Cinemas (Formerly Hoyt Cinemas, formerly Crown Cinemas) might have larger stalls, but this isn't the first public bathroom in which I've attempted to adopt a wide stance. C'mon, admit it, you do things like that sometimes, too. Don't you? Maybe?

It's on a smaller scale but the anger of its authors is just as strong. The buzz on lots of loops is that another epublishing company is sliding down the tubes. Apparently Mardi Gras Publishing is going down, but slowly it seems, because the company site is still up, Looks like they're even soliciting manuscripts. Still, the word is on the loops. Here's another --toward the end. And heres's another, just a single post If this is the end, it's not a nice wrap-up. Authors are complaining it hasn't been nice for a while. When a company slides into bankruptcy, versus just folding tents and going away quietly, who'll help the authors get their rights back? I hear EPIC might help I didn't even know the publisher existed, but turns out I know several people who'd sent manuscripts and were waiting for them to show up. Ugh.

1. our 11 year old van is cranky and due to blow up someday. Isn't tomorrow Friday the 13th? 2. kids won't agree on what tape to listen to, ever. Never. Ever. Even when they all want to hear the same thing, they won't agree on principle. 3. someone stole our portable TV/VHS tape player a few years back. 4. someone usually gets carsick. 5. that someone is usually me. 6. and a kid. 7. and, if he makes any gross sounds, the kid next to him. 8. Poor Mike has to fight his instinct to be like Mitt Romney. Not with the dog jammed up on the roof, but with the "we're not stopping except for gas, no matter what, hold it in" thing. 9. we don't have Uncle Andrew coming along this time. We hope he'll be there next time, the lucky, lucky man. 10. no dog this time, so no excuse to stop and go for a walk. (attention burglars. The big nasty dog is going to have a big nasty dog sitter staying with her. They will both be eating all the Eggo waffles from the freezer down...

ESPN2 is featuring Rock, Paper, Scissors championship. No, I shit you not. mike: this makes my eyes hurt. boy1: it makes my brain hurt. mike: Instant replay? Who the fuck are all those people? boy1: They must be drunk? boy3 wanders into room: What's that they-- boy1 : shh shh, I'm trying to hear this. That guy's a longshot? Wow. mike: You're right. Look at all those beer bottles all-- boy1: shh, shh. Fifty grand is at stake tonight? Go Landshark! Won it with a scissors. me: For god's sake, turn it off, Mike, he's starting to pay attention. Mike switches to Red Sox. boy1 : Actually I saw that in a Far Side. No really, I'm not kidding. A Far Side comic about competitive rock paper scissors. My brain hurts. mike: Why were those people there? Why were they clapping? boy1: My brain hurts. (whimpering) You know what's even worse? I really want to go back to that to see who wins. me: I knew it. boy1: I hurt on the inside. (more whimpering) Turn ba...

Angie has a post up about authors who are considering taking one of their already-published books, changing a few things and then trying to get the book published again by Samhain. Granted, the poor authors have lost their publisher and the books are gone. But these are still books that have been out and about--stories people might recognise. I don't get it. Really, truly I don't understand what they're thinking. Someone's bound to notice and what have the writers gained? Certainly not the future business of their past readers (and probably not new readers, once the news gets out). The whole horrible incident when someone plagiarised Nora--the story I heard was that the plagiarism rose out of a sense of desperation. The plagiarist was on a tight deadline and panicked.** But it doesn't sound like these people were particularly panicky, just eager to find a place for their stories. Silly goobers. For your own sake, tell the truth. Maybe you'll get a "reprint...