Carnivorous?

It was somebody's birthday at work today, and this is the cake someone brought in for them. Pretty cool, huh? Yes, that is a cake. And even the knife is edible.

New Tactic

I'm doing really terrible in my never-ending fight against being a fat guy. Starting this week, I'm bearing down and trying harder again. I've totally  let myself go this summer, and I'm about as fat as I have ever been.

I've been trying something to try to help me avoid those cravings that are so hard to say no to. This Geico commercial totally sums up my new tactic.

 

No, I was not paid by Geico to link to their commercial. They wouldn't waste money on someone as insignificant as me. I'm just one of those people who really appreciates a great, well done commercial, and this one is fantastic.

Anyway, my new tactic is not to have the popular girls from the middle school follow me around and put me down. Instead, I'm trying to harness that awful attitude.

For example, yesterday, several people were gathered around a table at work, sampling potato chips. Apparently Lays has a bunch of new chips, and they sent a bag of each to the newsroom. I think there were four flavors, and everyone was trying each of them, and deciding which of them were their favorites.

I like potato chips a lot, but they're not good for losing weight, as everyone knows. So, how did I deal with this? In my mind, I called up my inner popular middle school girl, and said in an ultra-disdainful voice, "I don't eat potato chips. Ew. Those are for fat people."

I wish I could portray the tone of voice to you by way of the written word. Just think of those girls from the commercial. It sounds kind of like that.

My hope is that, by repeating these phrases in my head with utmost disdain, I'll eventually really think that those things are gross, and no longer be tempted by them. Of course the other thing to think about with this is making sure that I don't turn into one those bitchy middle school popular girls. We'll see how it goes.

Broken Mirror Shards - Dr. Claw (Day 9)

Another 854 words today, and I'm all the way to 6,171.  I think I'm getting pretty close to the end here.  Probably only two or three more segments, I think.  Anyway, I've got to put on the links:

Bria Burton
Rish Outfield

And now, here's the new segment:

Brody smiled broadly as his fingers tapped six buttons on the keyboard of his laptop.  Well, five buttons, one of them twice.  “The end,” was what he wrote.  It had taken him two years, and $300,000 to finish it, but his YA dystopian vampire novel was finished.  He’d called it Once Bitten , which he thought was a pretty clever title.  Now, it was time to start sending it around to agents, and watch them fight over it.  He grabbed his latte, took a big gulp, and thought, move over Rowling, move over Meyers, it’s my turn now.

He saved the file, snapped his laptop closed, and stood from his favorite booth.  He’d written probably 90% of his book at that booth.  He’d probably spent, at least a thousand dollars in coffee here, so he didn’t think the Naked Lounge had reason to complain that he occupied it so much, he’d paid his rent.  Now that he was done, it was over to the FedEx store to print a bunch of copies of the book, and then post those copies to the agents he’d already picked out.

It took a long time, and the clerk at the store seemed to be as glad to be rid of him as he was to be rid of the FedEx store when he finally finished the process two and a half hours later.  He was going to be late to meet Tena for lunch, and he didn’t want that.  He pulled up to the Firehouse Restaurant just behind her Prius.  

Tena was looking as amazing as ever, she was even thinner than the last time he’d seen her, and she again didn’t even get a real meal, instead ordering only soup and salad, the tomato bisque and the Oaxacan chicken salad, which she only picked at.  She was starting to look as thin as a supermodel.  She had divorced her husband, just as Brody had hoped for.  Those happy marriages never seem to last in his experience.  Unfortunately, she’d taken up with someone else, her personal trainer at the gym.  Each time they met, she would fill his ears with all the details of her relationship, one time even mentioning the hugeness of his cock, and then looking at Brody as if expecting him to be especially interested with this tidbit. Brody had been depressed for a week after that particular lunch meeting.

“I finished my book, Tena,” Brody announced, “and sent it off to a bunch of agents right before I came to meet you.”

Tena smiled, her shining white teeth beaming down on Brody like moonlight.  “That’s great, Brode.  I’m so glad to hear that.  You’ve been working on that a really long time.”

“Yeah, it was probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done.  It really took a lot of work.”

“It must have.  It took you, what...two years or something?” she asked.

“Yeah, but it’s gonna be amazing.  I can’t wait to hear what the agents have to say about it.”  He really couldn’t wait too long either.  This time around, he’d kept a closer eye on his finances, remaining vigilant, and he was starting to run out.  His funds would probably only last him another few months at best.

“I wish I had good news to tell you about,” Tena said, then her voice broke, and she picked up her napkin and held it in front of her mouth for a moment.  Her shoulders hunched, in fact her whole body seemed to hunch into her hands.

“What is it, Tena?  Are you okay?” Brody asked, concern evident in his tone.  He reached across the table and put a hand on her shoulder.

“Oh, Brody, I think I’m cursed,” she moaned.

“Cursed? I don’t…”

“Oh, it’s Liam.  He and I broke up.  He was sleeping with someone else,”  Brody had to fight to keep a smile from lighting up his face.  This was even better news than the completion of his book.  She was free again, and beside that, she was vulnerable.  This might finally be his chance.

Brody struggled to get the proper expression on his face, then said, “I’m so sorry, Tena.  I’m sorry.”  He slid his chair over next to hers and took her in his arms.  She sniffled and snuffled into his shirt, and he exulted in the feel of her body pressed against his.

“If it makes you feel any better, he didn’t deserve you.  You were way too good for that guy,” Brody said.

A weak smile crossed her face.  “Thanks, Brode.  It’s great to have someone like you to talk to,” she replied.  She hugged him tighter.

What did that mean? he wondered, a really good friend? He wasn’t sure he wanted to be that guy.  “Someone like me?” he asked out loud without meaning to.

She sniffled loudly again, and then said, “you know, a gay friend that I can talk to about relationships without worrying about them having any ulterior motives.”

A gay friend? Brody hung his head, realizing that somehow, he had unwittingly destroyed all his hopes on his own.

Flashback

Anybody else freaking out that it's already August and wondering how you missed July like me? I mean, I do remember July 4th, but that was like yesterday, so how is it August 4th already now? And why is my life passing by so fast it's like I'm seeing it in a flashback right before dying in an accident or something?

Broken Mirror Shards - Dr. Claw (Day 8)

Another 419 words today.  Another scene in the saga.  I'm up to 5,286.

Before I go on, here's the links to the other participant's sites:

Bria Burton
Rish Outfield

If you're not already reading their stories, you should.  I've always thought that the coolest thing about Broken Mirror events is seeing how everyone starts with the same premise but has such vastly different stories.  Personally, I haven't read their stories yet, because I don't want to taint mine in any way, and I feel that I would bring something from theirs if I did, or I would think, "their story is good and mine sucks, I should give up now."  I don't want either of those things to happen, so I'm waiting until I'm done to go over and read theirs.

Anyway, off we go to storyland:

Brody’s name was on the papers in the glove box of the roadster.  The car was his, but it was a temporary relationship.  It was less of a temptation to keep it than one might think.  Yes, it was an awesome car, but Brody had some serious bills to pay.  Yes, it would be the ultimate chick magnet, but Brody didn’t even really know how to drive a stick shift, so he wasn’t going to be impressing anyone jerking and stalling his way down the street.  

He had to take it out and drive it, because...well, it was a Ferrari, but he found that he couldn’t do anything with it.  He couldn’t even take it out on the freeway and get it up to speed, because he didn’t trust himself not to make a fatal error while shifting and crash the thing.

He needed money more than anything, so he took the car to the Ferrari dealership, and sold it back to them.  According to Google, a new Ferrari 458 Spider sells for around $257,412 dollars.  A rather specific number, but it’s what came up when he searched.  Brody knew he wouldn’t get that much for his Ferrari, despite the fact that it was in mint condition.  He, like most people, had heard the adage at least a hundred times that a car’s value decreases significantly the second you drive it off the lot.  From what Brody could tell, this Ferrari hadn’t been taken off the lot at all.  When he got in it the first time in the parking lot outside Round Table, the odometer preposterously still read zero.  Zeros all the way across the dial.  But of course he couldn’t argue that fact with anyone and expect them to accept it.

            The folks at the Neillo dealership were pretty cool with him though, they said they had several people who had been asking after a used 458 Spider, and when Brody walked off their lot, he was $200,000 richer, and one beautiful car poorer.  So, despite it actually being worth less in actuality, since Jason and Todd hadn’t been with him and he could keep all the money for himself, the Ferrari turned out to be more valuable to him than the lottery ticket.  With that kind of money in his bank account, he could relax again, pay his bills off, and finally get that novel written.  Maybe there was still a way to get into Tena's affections as well.  Things were looking up again.

Broken Mirror Shards - Dr. Claw (Day 7)

Okay, got some more words written.  But before we go there, the links to the others in the contest:

Bria Burton
Rish Outfield

Alright, got another 566 words in, putting me at a grand total of 4,866.  Here you go:

 

            Brody slipped the quarter into the coin slot, and it lurched to life again.  He couldn’t try to aim for something, because what he was hoping for wasn’t visible in the pile.  The last time he’d aimed for a plush football, and from somewhere beside it--or from a wormhole into the ether--the claw had grabbed the lottery ticket.  The Oakland Raiders plush football was no longer in the machine.  Someone must have won it, or perhaps there was a guy who came out and rotated the toys in the machine.  He had no idea how the upkeep of claw vending machines worked.

With his mind mind drifting back to the first time he’d won, he remembered Jason’s imitation of the Toy Story character.  A movie line sprang into his mind, but it was from a different flick.  He found himself trying to imitate the line out loud like Jason had the first time around.

“Ooh, watch yourself. It's the claw. Ooh, the claw's comin' at ya. Ooh, you're scared of the claw. You're scared of the claw.”  His impression of a cheesy Cary Elwes from Liar, Liar was not nearly as spot on as Jason’s alien had been.  Jason really had some kind of talent for voices.  He probably should have gone into a line of work that would utilize it.  He could have been the next Mel Blanc in Brody’s opinion.  Despite Brody's lack of expertise, saying the quote out loud gave him a feeling of confidence.  It was almost as if he had said the words for the spell, and now the magic was doing its work.

Brody hit the drop button, and the claw fell into the pile of stuffed animals.  It appeared, as it always did, to have secured nothing at all in its clutches, but when it started to rise, Brody noticed that it had something dangling from one of its fingers, something strange.  Brody blinked, and realized that it was a key ring.  There was one of those fancy new electronic keys.  The top end was large and red, and on it was a yellow crest with a black horse rearing up majestically in the middle of it.  Brody knew that crest from somewhere, but he wasn’t sure what it was.

The claw returned to its start position and  dropped the key into the basket.  Smiling broadly, Brody pulled the key from the machine.  It wasn’t a lottery ticket, but this was definitely something worth a lot of money.  This was the key to a new car.  His smile faltered as he wondered just where exactly the car that this key belonged to might be.  The key wasn’t worth much on its own.

Holding the key out in front of him like a trophy, he walked out the door to survey the parking lot outside.  It was relatively deserted, apparently the rain had kept most people at home getting delivery instead of heading out to eat in a pizza restaurant.  There were only about twelve cars nearby, and of those, one jumped out immediately as the special one of the bunch.  It was sleek, and low, and bright red.  On the hood of this dangerous, growling beast of a car was the same yellow crest adorned with a rearing horse.  The symbol finally clicked home in his mind.  It was a Ferrari.  Dr. Claw had just given him the keys to a Ferrari.

Broken Mirror Shards - Dr. Claw (Day 6)

More from my story.  But first, link list:

Bria Burton

Rish Outfield

Okay, so I wrote another 492, getting us to 4,325 total.  Hope you're having fun with the story.  I am.  I found myself unable to stop writing today, even though I had more important and pressing things to do.  That's a neat and unusual experience for me.  This writing thing might work out after all.

Here we go:

 

    He stood outside the restaurant in the storm.  He let the rain pour down on him, even turning his face to the sky to allow it to pound him down further.  It was really coming down, and it only took five minutes for his clothes to be completely soaked through.  He hung his head back down, put it in his hands, and sobbed.  

Then he heard a clicking sound from his right.  He looked over, and saw a Round Table employee taking a smoke break.  There was another click as the man flicked his lighter, and tried to get his cigarette lit in the wet, windy storm.

    “Hell of a night, huh?” he said.

    “Hey, don’t I know you?” Brody said, raising a finger to point at the man.

    “Huh?” he said, “I don’t think so.”

    “No, I do.  You’re the guy who told me not to play the claw machine, because it would only make me unhappy.”

    “Doesn’t sound familiar, man.  I think you must be confusing me with someone else,” said the man.

    “Well, it was a while ago, so I’m not surprised you don’t remember.  But still, it was pretty weird.  Why would you tell me a claw machine game would make me unhappy?”

    “Wasn’t me, buddy,” the man said, “so I can’t tell you.”

    “Well, you were wrong anyway,” Brody said, “I wasn’t unhappy.  I won the fucking lottery because of that machine.  It gave me a fucking winning lottery ticket, so you couldn’t have been more wrong.”

    “Okay, buddy, whatever you say,” he said, “but all I can say is that you don’t look so happy right now to me.”

    “I’m--” Brody stopped, the man was right.  He wasn’t happy.  He may have been happy up until that day he took Tena out to Mulvaney’s and discovered he was out of money, but he wasn’t happy anymore.  Those people who said money didn’t buy happiness were so wrong.  He’d never been more happy than when he had money, and now that it was gone, he was miserable.  “I just need a quarter,” he finally said.

    “What?” the Round Table employee asked.

    “I just need a quarter is all.”

    “You’re out here crying like a man whose only child just got run over by a truck and died, and it’s because you need a quarter?”

    Brody shrugged, “Yeah.”

    “If I give you one, will you go away, and let me have my smoke break in peace?”

    “Sure,” Brody said, his voice sounding hopeful for the first time.

    The man dug in his pocket.  “Here, buddy, take this and get out of here, all right?”

    Brody caught the quarter out of the air.  “Thanks, man,” he told the Round Table employee, and turned and walked back inside.  Brody didn’t see the look on the man’s face as he raised the cigarette to his lips to take another drag, but if he had, he might have reconsidered using the quarter.