The intellectual equivalent of a ham sandwich.

I was browsing through other blogs on WordPress based on tags I like and I found this. It’s a site, microhorror.com, and they’re having a 500 word limit horror-story contest. The theme is ‘space’ … not as in outer space, but as in ‘the physical dimension.’ I’m no good at horror stories, but I started to think – ‘what are scary situations involving space?’ This is what I came up with.

This is kind of a throw-away post. I’m going to have a new computer soon which I’m super jazzed about. Why? I’m going to get a slick video editing program and produce amazingly dumb videos. Even dumber than you’ve already seen – you didn’t know this was possible, did you?

Space, the Underestimated Frontier

It was a dream come true. All the hard work, all the effort, the schooling – It had, after all, been worth it.
He was an astronaut now.
He was taking his first space walk.
“Hey,” the astronaut stopped at the communication, “what’s with your helmet?”
The astronaut looked down to see something that seemed insignificant, a tiny bit of nothingness in the infinitude of space.
There was a small gap in the visor which kept it from closing all the way.

The three engineers who designed the helmet would be saddened and shamed if they knew what was happening – but at the moment they had their own problems.

One of the engineers behind the design of the astronaut’s helmet was having his own problems with space. He was on a date and quite nervous – the proverbial social skills-challenged brainiac.
The engineer was in the middle of a seemingly 15-point turn to successfully park.
“Just park away from other cars, I like walking,” the date said, trying to help.
“Oh … right …,” the engineer managed with a weak smile and a nervous chuckle.

The second engineer had just parked and run inside a gas station.
His bladder had run out of space.
What’s worse – so had the bathroom.
After his quick knocks an angry yell from inside rang out, “gimme a minute!”

The third engineer couldn’t have been happier.
He and his girlfriend were ‘taking the next step’ in their relationship.
He was a smart young man and of course used a condom. A condom that was designed, like the helmet, to not have any gaps.

The astronaut, full of panic and yet curious, said, “so much for that exploding head myth.”
While he chuckled and began looking to solve the problem at hand, his lungs ruptured.

The engineer on a date backed up to find a new spot, and hit a man.

The engineer in the gas station re-lived his worst day in second grade.

The engineer with his girlfriend became a father-to-be.

And some infinite being we can’t comprehend chuckled.

Attn: Ellen (10/14/10)

Front

Back (apologies for my handwriting!)

As an FYI, the postcard is from when I went to a Giants game – it was a free giveaway!

The text of the postcard is:

Dear Ellen,

In light of it being the baseball postseason I will tell you an interesting baseball fact:

Between innings 2 – 8 I think about what it’d be like if I was a super hero, or maybe just in really good shape without having to ever work out.

The interesting fact is that 74% of baseball players are thinking the same things.

About me.

Creepy, I know.

Weirdly,
GetBradStanleyPublished.Com

Weekly Wacko (51)

I’m A Jerk

Yes. It’s true. I’m a jerk. Sometimes deliberately, more often without knowing it (I am a very stereotypical boy/engineer/moron).

There was one time I was a jerk with a publishing effort though. It’s pretty bad.

When I was living in California I saw a book called In Me Own Words: The Autobiography of Bigfoot. I picked it up and glanced at it and it struck me as very quirky humor that I loved. Fantastic.

A book I read about trying to get published recommended that, when I see a book I like or that I find similar to my style (whatever that is), I should look at the publisher and try to find the author’s agent in the acknowledgements section.

I looked and this book was published by Manic D Press, which was, gasp!, in San Francisco! This, I thought, is a sign. Seriously, I really thought this was a good omen. It’s a good thing I don’t live outside New York City (where there are about 5 billion publishers and literary agents) because I’d constantly be getting my hopes dashed.

Anyhow. I looked up Manic D Press’s site and I noticed that the quirky/fun/humor books were in the minority of their publications. Nevertheless, I thought I had a good chance with a small publishing house. I could write a sincere query letter that would get me noticed and they’d invite me up for an interview and find my awkward, nervous, rambling self charming for God knows what reason and … wha-la. Dream accomplished.

Manic D recommended people to read some of their published works, and talk about them in their query letter. They wanted to make sure your work jives with their overall style. Can do, I thought. I was in downtown Mountain View and I noticed Fears of Your Life by Michael Bernard Loggins.

If you know about this book you can go ahead and cringe.

I picked up the book, glanced through it, and loved it. It was yet another quirky, charming, oddball bit of humor. The author had, in his own handwriting, written fears he had for just about everything. I identified with a few of them, and it cracked me up. I bought the book and was crafting the query letter to Manic D in my head.

A few weeks later I finally got around to writing and sending the query letter. I wrote to Manic D about my haiku collection. I am proud of the haiku set, and I have a few that are San Francisco-specific, which I thought would be neat. Again, daydreams flowed about readings in weird little book stores in San Francisco.

Months after that I was at some sort of outdoor art and book festival in San Francisco near the De Young Museum. One of the tables was for Manic D, and my friend urged me to go talk with them. I declined and pulled her aside, telling her about my query letter and my big gaffe.

A month or so after I sent the query letter I was still waiting for a response. I was wondering if I’d made some obvious mistake on my query letter, so I re-read it. It seemed ok to me. I pulled out the books to make sure they were both from Manic D Press. For the first time I looked at the back of Fears of Your Life.

On the back of the book, in plain sight (whoops), is this: “Michael Bernard Loggins, an adult with developmental disabilities, battles his fears by listing more than one hundred of them.”

I change my mind, I’m promoting myself to an ass-hole.