Friday, August 29, 2008

Disaster Strikes! And Other News!

Of course, I'm being dramatic. It's not that big of a deal, it just feels like it at 6:30 in the morning when you find out the website you devote so much time to down.

Remember that blackout we talked about over at the League of Reluctant Adults? Well it's happened. You can still see the site, we just can't access it to add anything new. So, over the weekend our trusty and reliable internet stylist will be working around the clock to bring back all the snarky posts about nothing in particular, disgustingly obvious self-aggrandizement, interviews bordering on clinical insanity and the occasionally helpful writing and/or publishing advice that you need to get you through your day.

In the meantime...

Why not listen to my new fave Santogold?

...and this time here she is with N.E.R.D. and Julian Casablancas...

...while you read an interview. Kerri-Leigh Grady asked all the right questions. Or read an awesome review of Happy Hour of the Damned over at Green Man Reviews.

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

False Alarm!!!

The League of Reluctant Adults narrowly avoided a blackout and to celebrate, I've posted an interview and a contest for an Amazon gift card.

See who I've got tied up in the League Lounge

Monday, August 25, 2008

5 Things or Whatever...

I'm a lazy blogger. I'm resting my laurels firmly atop the 5 things make a blog post idea. Pathetic and sad, but--hey--I'm not complaining, God bless whoever thought it up.


Aw hells yeah! The skeleton is holding up better than the Holy Ghost. Still solid enough to pick up without any of the goo. Thanks Gina, this is quality product, you can be my "Grow-Your-Own" pusher.

2. Why am I addicted to Million Dollar Listing on Bravo? Anyone? It's not even a good show. They've gathered three of the most irritating metrosexual real estate agents in Los Angeles into an hour of freaky bowl haircuts, drag king style beards and whining. Every time I watch, I wish it were a first person shooter.

3. Sunday we went to the farmer's market in Olympia for Sand Castle Days, or whatever the hell it's called. There's something weird about trucking in sand for the event rather than hosting it at an actual beach. Still it was kind of fun, particularly the sculpture of cats giving a dog an enema (Caroline insisted they were vaccinating him, but I know different).

4. Pull tabs are AWESOME.

We used to gamble a lot, or what I should say is...we used to gamble our money away for very little fun and even less profit. Last night, though, while eating the most Americanized Chinese food known to man, I sunk $5 into some tabs and came out of the deal with 75 bucks! Is nice.

5. It's been a long time since I've done a book review on here and I've read a ton of awesome books, so expect my thoughts on Lamb by Chris Moore, The Miracle at Speedy Motors by Alexander McCall Smith, I'm the Vampire that's Why by Michele Bardsley, Mistress of the Art of Death by Ariana Franklin and Countdown by Michelle Maddox. I'm also putting the finishing touches on a disturbing domination fantasy/interview with Michelle that will be my post for Wednesday at the League of Reluctant Adults!!!

Monday, August 18, 2008

These Are My Gifts.

Anyone remember that line? 10 points at the end, if you can ferret through all the movies clogging your heads for that bit of crazy.

Now, the line does have a bit to do with this post, because this weekend I've been verily blessed with several gifts. And I mean "gifts" in the tangible sense and not an egotistical lookie-here-how-I'm-gifted sort of way.

First up, courtesy of Gina, comes this care package to soothe the edges of my Friday deadline (which I kicked in the ass, I'm happy to say)...

I didn't need to open the handmade and stamped envelope to know I was going to be shitting myself with glee about the contents, it's enough that readers even think about doing stuff like this (of course, now I must stalk Gina in a very scary way, but I figure she knew that going in). But I did open it and promptly ran for a bowl of water and the camera. Couldn't resist, not after last year's Holy Ghost/smegma (or is it shmegma?) mishap.

So, we'll be dropping in on Mr. Skeleton periodically. I fully expect that this time, the growth will be positively spooky.

Next up--and this may be more of a curse than a gift--Smokey.

I really don't have anything poignant to say about my little shitter, except you go Cherie, another cute dog pic. THE TONGUE!!!

On Sunday, Caroline and I went to see Ben Stiller and Justin Theroux's skewering of the Hollywood asshole-set, Tropic Thunder.

I loved it. and not in a heartwarming way.

Tropic is my kind of movie. It celebrates the offensive and shanks political correctness in that thoroughly tongue-in-cheek way that can only lead to picketing (I don't know why it continues to surprise me that people don't get satire).

I'm not saying this flick is a masterpiece of comedy by any stretch--in fact it sort of fizzles in the third act (until Tom Cruise reminds us why he's still relevant)--what I will say is I haven't laughed like that since Jaye Wells, Leah Hodge and I came up with official gang sign for Oklahoma (and I nearly peed myself at that, let alone Jaye and Leah).

Sure there are protesters angry about this or that. There always will be. I propose a cure for being offended. Ridicule. If everyone is subject to embarrassing jokes and humiliation then it becomes a joining experience. No one is sacred...or safe. NO ONE.

Do you see the logic?

You get yourself some tough skin or, hell...Darwinism in Effect, y'all!

One last thing...

Patrice Michelle goes to some weird ass places on the weekend. Case in point, The Bunghole (seen above). Apparently, she was with her husband on this latest trip, or at least that's what she says. Many people find exploring the bunghole embarrassing and often keep it to themselves. Not Patrice. She sends pictures.

Thanks for the gifts!

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Road Trip Has a Cover!!!

Check it out.


ETA: now with actual cover!!

Monday, August 11, 2008

Death Race 2008

No. I'm not talking about the remake of the David Carradine car-as-weapon classic where, according to my wife, all the prisoners appear to be "hot." I'm talking about this past weekend.

Do you ever have those days where you feel run ragged? Where you've been so overscheduled you can't even think straight?

That was this past weekend.

Like some top secret memo had been circulated--must drive Mark and Caroline to the edge of sanity--everyone we know scheduled a party. Everyone. Friday night was a barbecue with friends. Not a problem, we normally go to dinner with this group so it wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Ribs, peartinis and talk smutty enough to make sailors blush.

But Saturday was like a death march and that's was after the judgment gauntlet of our dogs who clearly do not like to be left alone...

We had to turn down two invites, including a family B-day party, just from the sheer weight of obligations. First up, Caroline's work peeps barbecue in Bumfuck, Egypt. No joke. When the roads stop having names and you're making a left at the hay bale accident, that's country. Witness also the Willy Nelson soundtrack in the background. Can you say, "Nothing in common." Nothing. Hunting was a major topic of conversation. I thought it best to keep my mouth shut on that particular topic. I did perk up initially when I thought we were talking about human targets, but sadly the victims being discussed were far more honorable.

That said, it was kind of nice, they had a gazebo and a big Japanese bell that I couldn't resist ringing every few minutes. Oh and Margaritas. We were the only ones drinking those, the remainder of the guest eschewing hard alcohol for the comfort of the keg.

Caroline's coworkers are nice. But there was this one guy who sidled over like a bow-legged cowboy, eased himself down into a chair and proceeded to tell us that he'd sustained a horrifying testicular injury (involving a table saw) and that "one of the two" was swollen to the size of a pommelo and had turned black. I suggested amputation. He was not amused.

We stayed for four hours before having to dart off north to Richelle Mead's Storm Born release party...a two hour drive, I might add. And that was without hitting any sort of traffic. The super smart Dept. of Transportation has decided to close one of the most travelled stretches of interstate in Oz, I-405 through Bellevue. So we were a whole lotta worried we were going to get stuck in a crazy-making jam that would force us to go all kinds of Luby's.

But once we arrived, Richelle greeted us just like the perfect 50s housewife...

...with a fresh themed cocktail...

In this case, that scourge of the sea, a hurricane (and yes that is a cheese tower and Cherie and Aric mugging in the background). I did hear talk of Blue Hawaiis making the rounds in martini glasses, but really, why limit yourself? We'd already had tequila in the margaritas earlier, might as well sample the gin, rum and vodka that form the base of any awesome hangover. Am I right?

We played a totally confusing round of Zombie Flux...

Which seemed to either engage or perturb these two party goers (Caitlin and Caroline), I can't decide which. Cherie seems totally interested in Synde's cards, though.

...and that guy's fingers must smell awesome. My buddy Terri will be happy to know that the Kit Kittredge bombshell went off just as expected...

Our American Girl was only slightly annoyed, but inside she was squeeing--I know it. We chatted late into the evening and just before we made the trek home, I made a disturbing discovery in the bathroom...

Heathens!!! We'd been socializing with the ungodly! Don't tell anyone, okay? I can't even be sure who defiled the pamphlet of our Lord's cartoon disrupters, could have been anyone. They were massacring Radiohead on Rock Band, after all.

Anyway, needless to say, Sunday morning (our anniversary, by the way) was not all sunshine, roses and chicklets falling from our buttholes. Nope. It was the kind of swollen headed nightmare reserved for hydroencephalitis victims. Plans started to shave off quick as we crashed on the couch moaning.

We did make it out to see Pineapple Express, which was probably only hilarious because we had killed off so many brain cells in Saturday's rampage. It was slightly less slapstick than Cheech and Chong, with some quick dialogue that I loved and some genuine laughs. I'd go if I were you; just bring a fat doobie and some runts and you'll be fine.

After dinner, we fell out in front of the Olympics. I made a concerted effort to read but kept nodding off.

It's Monday morning and I'm still exhausted.

Anyone else commit timeline suicide this weekend?

Friday, August 08, 2008

My Bloggy Valentine

Please note: I'll get to the contest winner somewhere in this word salad.
--The Management
When something gets stuck in my head, it gets STUCK in my head. Take this whole My Bloody Valentine thing that I posted about on the League this week. Sure, I've moved on from thinking about the trauma of rewatching the flick, but now the band has taken over my thoughts like a 40s midnight lobotomy in some shady acres asylum.

See what I mean...

Now, I know they're not everyone's fave, but for me a little shoegaze is the perfect accompaniment to writing. No need to worry about lyrics because half the time you can't understand them anyway. Just nod and type, nod and type.

Aural crack.

You know what else is crack? Wade Robson's choreography on So You Think You Can Dance. Here's the crazy rabbit piece he did for the finale (beware nasty pirate copy)...

Creepy enough? It's one of the pieces of the Criss Angel/Cirque du Soleil show Believe at the Luxor. Reminds me a bit of the Triplets of Belville routine he did a while back. Totally addictive.

You know what else is addictive? Buying books. You know what'd come in handy? A free amazon gift card. I just happen to have one right here. Let me pick a name.

Hold on...


Let's see...

Ah, here it is...


You're the big ass winner of a $20 amazon giftcard. Email me [me (at) markhnenry (dot) us] and we'll set it up right quick. Thanks for your patronage and remember, the best way to keep a writer writing is to buy their books. If for no other reason, that they look nice on a shelf.

Speaking of books, you know what came in the mail yesterday that was bonerific? My agent sent the ARC of Carrie Ryan's The Forest of Hands and Teeth. I can't wait to chew through it, but I'll have to if I expect to get through all my awesome friend's manuscripts. Soon, though. Soon.

I think that's about all I got. I'm tapped out. Plus, I have to get over to my parents. Their guilt trip has been palpable.

Have a good weekend.

Tuesday, August 05, 2008


I'm a lame ass pimp and missed the opening week of two of my favorite ladies. So I'm making up for it with a contest. But first, let's talk books, or at the very least book stores.

Caitlin and I will be heading up to Seattle in a few hours to do the writing-in-coffee-shop thing followed by dinner with Synde. I can hear y'all now, "On a Tuesday?" you ask. Hells yeah on a Tuesday, cuz that's when the books come out and up here in the wet northwest, that's when authors do their song and dance for the crowd. We have no shame.

Tonight is all about Kat Richardson and Richelle Mead, they'll be reading and signing their brand spanking new tomes, Underground and Storm Born (respectively). So if you're hanging out in the Seattle area, swing by the University Bookstore at 7:00 tonight for some storytime and to have your books signed by some hot chicks (they've got Sharpies and they're not opposed to signing man-boobs, so if that opens it up for any of you...).

While you're there...

You need to pick up Countdown by Michelle Maddox or Rowen or whatever, cause I'm sure she won't mind what you call her as long as you pick up her fantastic romantic thriller. Next up on your shopping list is Hotter than Hell, Jackie Kessler's third entry into the Hell on Earth series, and on your way home pick up some asbestos panties for this read (you don't need those nasty blisters again, do you?).

So, it's contest time and I'm not giving any of these books away. What I am doing is offering up is a $20 gift card from Amazon, then you can get one or two, or a big deposit on all of them if you'd like.

Here's the deal...

Just leave a glowing comment about how excited you are that these ladies spend their time hammering away their fingers to nubs. Blood runs red on the keys people. It ain't all rainbows and moonbeams (like I'm telling you something you don't know.)

I'll leave it open 'til Friday and then reveal the random winner by noon, pacific.

Get on it!