A "cafe" in Oregon, specifically designed for prescription marijuana users has opened...
Included in diseases for which mj is prescribed are alzheimers, tourettes, multiple sclerosis and diabetes.
Forget the normal stuff- I wanna see a party full of high old people forgetting where they are, and people full of twitches and obscenities!
I mean, I've known people with these afflictions, and they are sad and sometimes absolutely debilitating, so I am in no way making fun of them. BUT...
Can you think of a stranger or more amusing scenario than sticking them all in a room together and loading them up with free weed??
Saturday
Friday
So as I wrote the last blog, I was thinking about other examples of when my brain let me down.... smaller things that I couldnt devote a single story to, so I figured I'd do a compilation...
The first time I became fully aware of my brain playing tricks on me was on my way home one night. I'm not entirely sure where I was driving home from, but thats unimportant. I was stopped at a red light- multiple cars stopped beside me. Just sitting...tapping on the steering wheel, not thinking about anything inparticular... just sitting.
Then, out of nowhere, my brain ganged up on me. They plotted and decided before saying "Pssst. Just go. Go now."
So, in obedience to the brain stem, my foot stepped on the gas and I went. The light was still red, and I'm fairly certain I was looking around at the other drivers in complete bewilderment...could my hands have obeyed the other part of my brain, I'd have scribbled a "Please help! I'm being held hostage!" note on a piece of paper and plastered it to the window.
I STILL dont know what posessed me to do that...
************
3 years ago, around this time, I was christmas shopping at JC Penny with my mom and dad. Its always fun hanging out with them so I was in a good mood- looking around at the christmas decor, being completely overwhelmed with the happy, warm fuzzies that come that time of year. I've learned now that my brain is at its worst when I'm overwhelmed with stimulation of the visual sort.
I remember looking at a glass case of rings. Lots of rings... and with a case big enough to where merely pointing at one does no good. Your finger is still nearly a foot away from the dang thing and depending on the angle of the person you are telling about the ring, they could think you're pointing at a million different ones.
"I like that one." I said to my mother.
"Which one?" she replied, as I had known she would.
So i dug into my vocabulary and said "the one with the swirls on it." - carefully describing half the rings beneath my finger.
"Which one?" she asked again.
"The one with the swirls on it." I repeated. Perhaps I thought she hadnt heard me.
"Which one with the swirls on it?" she asked, acknowledging she had infact heard it.
"The ONE with the swirls on it." I said... she just sighed at me.
"The one with the SWIRLS on it." again... I wasnt making any sense. My brain continued to reiterate that if I just emphasized a different word in the sentence, eventually she'd understand. "The one WITH the swirls on it." At this point, my dad is wheezing, which is making me laugh, but increasing my frustration. I'm sure I continued until I had adequately covered each word in that sentence.
I dont remember if she ever figured out what ring I meant...
********************
A few moments later, perusing a nicely stacked pyramid of watches, oohing and aahing over the cute charms attached to some, and discussing my ability to describe swirls (to which my dad was STILL laughing)... I found a watch.
It was the coolest looking thing ever and had skulls and crossbones on it. My excitement grew and the necessity to show it to my parents became unbearable.
"Look at this one!" I said to my dad. "Its so cute! It has charms you can change on it." (so far so good.) Dad turned to look. I specifically wanted to point out the skulls. But again, in my excitement, my ability to speak proper english began to fail.
"It has..." (pause) ...I began waiting for the right word to come. If dad saw me struggling, he didnt betray his knowledge, probably hoping for another Sari Special Word Vomit moment... my brain began to feed me words. Most of which were completely wrong... I tried to make associations... where does one see skull and crossbones? Pirate ships!
"It has... pirate..." (pause) ... why the word "skull" hadnt come to me, I dont know... but I was still on the right track with pirates... I just had to describe the part I needed! "pirate stuff" would have worked at that point. Dad would have nodded in agreement. But no. My brain was being far too helpful. Skull... skull... whats the word? I know its part of the general make up of a human. Its like a head without skin. Ah ha!
"It has... pirate heads on it!" I finally announced. Dad lost it.
I'm sure part of that was due to the immediate 'wait-thats-not-the-right-word' face I made, and most likely an immediate narration of my inner thoughts that followed similiar to "thats not what I meant to say..."
I think dad was crying before we left the store.
I'd probably cry too... if I hadnt felt so proud of myself in that fleeting moment of arriving at what I thought was an accurate description.
The first time I became fully aware of my brain playing tricks on me was on my way home one night. I'm not entirely sure where I was driving home from, but thats unimportant. I was stopped at a red light- multiple cars stopped beside me. Just sitting...tapping on the steering wheel, not thinking about anything inparticular... just sitting.
Then, out of nowhere, my brain ganged up on me. They plotted and decided before saying "Pssst. Just go. Go now."
So, in obedience to the brain stem, my foot stepped on the gas and I went. The light was still red, and I'm fairly certain I was looking around at the other drivers in complete bewilderment...could my hands have obeyed the other part of my brain, I'd have scribbled a "Please help! I'm being held hostage!" note on a piece of paper and plastered it to the window.
I STILL dont know what posessed me to do that...
************
3 years ago, around this time, I was christmas shopping at JC Penny with my mom and dad. Its always fun hanging out with them so I was in a good mood- looking around at the christmas decor, being completely overwhelmed with the happy, warm fuzzies that come that time of year. I've learned now that my brain is at its worst when I'm overwhelmed with stimulation of the visual sort.
I remember looking at a glass case of rings. Lots of rings... and with a case big enough to where merely pointing at one does no good. Your finger is still nearly a foot away from the dang thing and depending on the angle of the person you are telling about the ring, they could think you're pointing at a million different ones.
"I like that one." I said to my mother.
"Which one?" she replied, as I had known she would.
So i dug into my vocabulary and said "the one with the swirls on it." - carefully describing half the rings beneath my finger.
"Which one?" she asked again.
"The one with the swirls on it." I repeated. Perhaps I thought she hadnt heard me.
"Which one with the swirls on it?" she asked, acknowledging she had infact heard it.
"The ONE with the swirls on it." I said... she just sighed at me.
"The one with the SWIRLS on it." again... I wasnt making any sense. My brain continued to reiterate that if I just emphasized a different word in the sentence, eventually she'd understand. "The one WITH the swirls on it." At this point, my dad is wheezing, which is making me laugh, but increasing my frustration. I'm sure I continued until I had adequately covered each word in that sentence.
I dont remember if she ever figured out what ring I meant...
********************
A few moments later, perusing a nicely stacked pyramid of watches, oohing and aahing over the cute charms attached to some, and discussing my ability to describe swirls (to which my dad was STILL laughing)... I found a watch.
It was the coolest looking thing ever and had skulls and crossbones on it. My excitement grew and the necessity to show it to my parents became unbearable.
"Look at this one!" I said to my dad. "Its so cute! It has charms you can change on it." (so far so good.) Dad turned to look. I specifically wanted to point out the skulls. But again, in my excitement, my ability to speak proper english began to fail.
"It has..." (pause) ...I began waiting for the right word to come. If dad saw me struggling, he didnt betray his knowledge, probably hoping for another Sari Special Word Vomit moment... my brain began to feed me words. Most of which were completely wrong... I tried to make associations... where does one see skull and crossbones? Pirate ships!
"It has... pirate..." (pause) ... why the word "skull" hadnt come to me, I dont know... but I was still on the right track with pirates... I just had to describe the part I needed! "pirate stuff" would have worked at that point. Dad would have nodded in agreement. But no. My brain was being far too helpful. Skull... skull... whats the word? I know its part of the general make up of a human. Its like a head without skin. Ah ha!
"It has... pirate heads on it!" I finally announced. Dad lost it.
I'm sure part of that was due to the immediate 'wait-thats-not-the-right-word' face I made, and most likely an immediate narration of my inner thoughts that followed similiar to "thats not what I meant to say..."
I think dad was crying before we left the store.
I'd probably cry too... if I hadnt felt so proud of myself in that fleeting moment of arriving at what I thought was an accurate description.
Fun with brains...
Last night, I'm walking out to my car.
This is nothing new. I walk regularly and I've had a car for years. No excitement there.
There is a pink piece of paper shoved under my windsheild wipers. That is rarely a good sign...
I grab it. Its a "warning" for "no parking sticker" from one of the "security guards" where I work. (there is a reason these parts are in quotes. Dont judge me.)
So I throw it in the car, sit down and mumble to myself about how ohhh yess there IS a parking sticker! Its right th- hmmm... its not right there.
Thats when I remember. Oh yeah, it broke. So I kept the two pieces and would just slap 'em on the dashboard every day. However, I had forgotten to do that... for about 6 days in a row. I reach down to my "where I stick stuff" place beneath the a/c controls and taa-daa! ... wait, its not there. Crap.
I drive home, still fuming about the tag, since the company DOES have all vehicles on record and could have looked me up very easily. I park, I turn on the inside lights and search.No tag. Of course I'm being a smart *ss about it anyway to make myself feel better, since the "warning" was for not having a parking sticker and its very clearly NOT a sticker. There is no adhesive. Its plastic with a little hook for sticking on the rearview mirror.
Either way, not important.Its gone.
The next day (today) I walk into work, armed with what I feel is my wrongly-issued warning, and slap it down on the security desk.
"Can I help you?" one of the 2 men says to me.
"Yes. I got this warning on my car last night..."
"Uh-oh" he interjects, with a tone one might use with a toddler who just broke their crayola in half. (Mind you- I'd be WAY more upset about breaking a crayola than I was at getting a stupid pink illegible warning on my car.)... I felt my nose wrinkle up in the "do NOT use that tone" face, but I held it at bay.
I continued "...and I looked. My tag isnt there."
Then I stopped and made the wait-a-second- who-let-you-out-of-the-ward face. Something in my explanation and logic was seriously lacking. Had I just walked up to (potentially) the man/men that gave me the warning and basically admitted that they gave me the warning with good reason? Isnt that why I got the warning in the first place?
Would you walk into a police station and say "No, it wasnt a hit and run, I just didnt see him while I was driving." ??
I sighed and started over."It wasnt there, but its supposed to be."
I felt a smug smile tugging at the corners of my mouth before... wait. I did it again. I may as well have walked in and said "You gave me a warning with good reason and I applaud your powers of observation!"
Finally, the somewhat slower, but usually accurate part of my brain stepped up to say:
"...it wasnt there, but I THOUGHT it was..."
He gave me the "Ohhhh, sure you did" face and I wanted to scream. All the pieces were there inside me. I could feel them. But somehow, they wouldnt link up. The car. The mysteriously missing tag. My explanation. 'JUST ASK FOR A NEW ONE!' my brain shouted.
"I need a new one." she said, stating the obvious. One side of the evil brain cackled. I could feel the finger pointing and laughing already. The other side sighed and suggested I try again. I took a step back, inhaled, and stepped back up to the desk.
"Can I get a new one?" Taaa-daaa!!!
"Sure you can!" came a positive sounding voice from the other end of the desk. I turned to the (much) younger security guy and grinned. I liked him already.
"Whats your last name?"
"Nelson. N-E-L-S-O-N."
"Sorry?"
"Sari."
"Sorry Sari." (giggle)
ha and ha. *sigh* "Yeah. Thats me." Thanks mom and dad.
"Your hair is a different color than your picture."
"Yes, it is. It does that."
"Sometimes, being in the sun, the tags get brittle and break. Maybe it fell down." He said, offering a suggestion as to why I was retarded. I nodded. I knew that part already.
"Here ya go. I think the judge will dismiss this one." (a real comedian, this guy. I stopped liking him.)
I dropped half dropped/half threw the tag back at him and momentarily regretted the fingers I had rented. Cheap isnt always a good thing.
"No jail time, huh?" I mumbled, taking the tag again with a vice-like grip, sure not to drop it this time- probably resembling an angry chipmunk guarding an acorn, and scurried off, head down, back to the parking lot to put the stupid tag in the car.
After all that, I was 8 minutes late clocking in at my desk.
And now avoid the security desk as much as possible
This is nothing new. I walk regularly and I've had a car for years. No excitement there.
There is a pink piece of paper shoved under my windsheild wipers. That is rarely a good sign...
I grab it. Its a "warning" for "no parking sticker" from one of the "security guards" where I work. (there is a reason these parts are in quotes. Dont judge me.)
So I throw it in the car, sit down and mumble to myself about how ohhh yess there IS a parking sticker! Its right th- hmmm... its not right there.
Thats when I remember. Oh yeah, it broke. So I kept the two pieces and would just slap 'em on the dashboard every day. However, I had forgotten to do that... for about 6 days in a row. I reach down to my "where I stick stuff" place beneath the a/c controls and taa-daa! ... wait, its not there. Crap.
I drive home, still fuming about the tag, since the company DOES have all vehicles on record and could have looked me up very easily. I park, I turn on the inside lights and search.No tag. Of course I'm being a smart *ss about it anyway to make myself feel better, since the "warning" was for not having a parking sticker and its very clearly NOT a sticker. There is no adhesive. Its plastic with a little hook for sticking on the rearview mirror.
Either way, not important.Its gone.
The next day (today) I walk into work, armed with what I feel is my wrongly-issued warning, and slap it down on the security desk.
"Can I help you?" one of the 2 men says to me.
"Yes. I got this warning on my car last night..."
"Uh-oh" he interjects, with a tone one might use with a toddler who just broke their crayola in half. (Mind you- I'd be WAY more upset about breaking a crayola than I was at getting a stupid pink illegible warning on my car.)... I felt my nose wrinkle up in the "do NOT use that tone" face, but I held it at bay.
I continued "...and I looked. My tag isnt there."
Then I stopped and made the wait-a-second- who-let-you-out-of-the-ward face. Something in my explanation and logic was seriously lacking. Had I just walked up to (potentially) the man/men that gave me the warning and basically admitted that they gave me the warning with good reason? Isnt that why I got the warning in the first place?
Would you walk into a police station and say "No, it wasnt a hit and run, I just didnt see him while I was driving." ??
I sighed and started over."It wasnt there, but its supposed to be."
I felt a smug smile tugging at the corners of my mouth before... wait. I did it again. I may as well have walked in and said "You gave me a warning with good reason and I applaud your powers of observation!"
Finally, the somewhat slower, but usually accurate part of my brain stepped up to say:
"...it wasnt there, but I THOUGHT it was..."
He gave me the "Ohhhh, sure you did" face and I wanted to scream. All the pieces were there inside me. I could feel them. But somehow, they wouldnt link up. The car. The mysteriously missing tag. My explanation. 'JUST ASK FOR A NEW ONE!' my brain shouted.
"I need a new one." she said, stating the obvious. One side of the evil brain cackled. I could feel the finger pointing and laughing already. The other side sighed and suggested I try again. I took a step back, inhaled, and stepped back up to the desk.
"Can I get a new one?" Taaa-daaa!!!
"Sure you can!" came a positive sounding voice from the other end of the desk. I turned to the (much) younger security guy and grinned. I liked him already.
"Whats your last name?"
"Nelson. N-E-L-S-O-N."
"Sorry?"
"Sari."
"Sorry Sari." (giggle)
ha and ha. *sigh* "Yeah. Thats me." Thanks mom and dad.
"Your hair is a different color than your picture."
"Yes, it is. It does that."
"Sometimes, being in the sun, the tags get brittle and break. Maybe it fell down." He said, offering a suggestion as to why I was retarded. I nodded. I knew that part already.
"Here ya go. I think the judge will dismiss this one." (a real comedian, this guy. I stopped liking him.)
I dropped half dropped/half threw the tag back at him and momentarily regretted the fingers I had rented. Cheap isnt always a good thing.
"No jail time, huh?" I mumbled, taking the tag again with a vice-like grip, sure not to drop it this time- probably resembling an angry chipmunk guarding an acorn, and scurried off, head down, back to the parking lot to put the stupid tag in the car.
After all that, I was 8 minutes late clocking in at my desk.
And now avoid the security desk as much as possible
An Essay on Stupid
Ladies and Gentlemen,
I have found very possibly the worst and best website on the planet.
The best part is... it wasnt bad on purpose.
*drum roll please* I give you... HOBBS PUBLISHING! (hobbspublishing.com)
Hobbs Publishing is a self-publishing company for those writers too lazy or too crappy to get published by a reputable publishing house. I have researched these types of things many times in my own impatient efforts to skip over the crap of submission and just get on with the publishing.
But in my research, I'm finding it is rarely if ever profitable or worthwhile unless you merely want one copy of your own book for your own purposes. This particular company, however, takes the cake.
And I will tell you why...
I shall begin with one of their very clever phrases used to entice the poor, desperate author... "When you have your books printed, Many people will probably want to buy your book!"
...That alone should be enough to prove my point. I even had both sides of my brain in agreement as they shouted "PROBABLY?! Did you just say PROBABLY?!" Everyone knows the key ingredient to selling anything is confidence, assuredness... act like you know what you're talking about and that the item you want to sell is vital to their very survival! NEVER use words like "probably" and dont capitalize words in the middle of a sentence unless its proper cause it makes ya look retarded.
Now, lets go to the home page of the website to begin our journey. Pretty colors. Charcoal colored background, Pumpkin orange header, White text background in the body of the page, Black side panel with navigation options. Simple, but pleasant enough color scheme. I'm not grossed out yet.
First thing you see is a small paragraph about the company. "We are honored to present you some of our most valuable business solutions. We have various ways to help you improve your business image. Whether you are in business for someone else, or an independent contract freelancer, we believe that our services will empower you to provide increased quality customer service that will place on the cutting edge."
After reading that, I take an anti-nausea pill and try to figure out what just happened. I cant, so I move on.
On the right hand side in bright red, big bold letters- "SPECIAL OFFER! For only $949 We will convert your manuscript into a formatted book!"
Woohoo! I'm excited! And what does the special offer include, you ask? Well, let me tell you. Here is what you get: 1. One standard book cover (2 choices) 2. Your typed manuscript converted into formatted text pages (Microsoft Word format) 3. A CD with your formatted book file (printing costs not included in this offer) 4. Reputable printers who are inexpensive. (The offer is LIMITED so call them TODAY!!)
...If you will notice... it doesnt mention how many copies you get. You get ONE book cover... *as opposed to the 7 I know you were wanting.* You get formatted text? Wait...what? I'm assuming you would be emailing the manuscript in the first place... so they stick it in Microsoft Word for you? But wait! There's more! You get a CD with the book on it... since the one you emailed them clearly wasnt enough e-book for ya...(but printing costs arent included), AND you get reputable printers who are inexpensive. Basically, $949 gets your book stuck on a cd and mailed back to you with a list of places to take it to get printed. Oh, and ONE book cover.
But hey! A printed book will make many people probably want to buy it. ALWAYS REMEMBER THAT!
There is a disclaimer here though. It says, "Disclaimer: Customer assumes all risks and liabilities associated with the development of the book and cover. It is also acknowledged by the customer that any text, images and or information is the customer's originalo work." Yes, ladies and gentlemen... after all the risks and liabilities (from dangerous writing) its still the customer's originalo work. A publishing company with typos on the website. That gets an A+ from me.
At the bottom of the page, after a list of "WHAT WE DO" there's another fun little motivational selling point. "WE CUT OUT THE MIDDLEMAN TO PASS THE SAVINGS ON TO YOU! Imagine the money you will save!"
Now, correct me if I'm wrong... Arent they just ADDING middlemen to the whole mess? Wouldnt submitting the manuscript straight to an actual publishing company cut out the middle man? And uh, that bit about saving money... Clearly, they dont understand that if you submit to a publishing company and they like the book, THEY pay YOU!! So, really, you pay more to self publish, add people to the mix and... oh! there are more pages to this website, I nearly forgot!
NEXT PAGE!! "Services"
It says: Fresh Marketing Solutions Sample book design inside and out: Featuring- Reality From the Heart, By R.J. Poet, Author and Poet (there is absolutely no link there by the way. There is no sample book design.) Then, it says: "Uniquely designed (in rust colored, italic text- looks vaguely like comic sans font) BOOK COVERS (in alternating colors, because rainbow words mean they are serious about unique!) We take great care in working with you to design the ultimate book cover for your book. For example, we take your ideas and design them into a cover you can be proud of and share with others. "
Now, I cant for the life of me figure out why "For Example" is in italics. But it doesnt matter. Immediately after that is the.... WHEN YOU HAVE YOUR BOOKS PRINTED, MANY PEOPLE WILL PROBABLY WANT TO BUY YOUR BOOK! Hahahhahahahahahaha!! (re-reads it...) HAHAHHAHAH!!!!
THEN there is "Sample book design inside and out from one of our satisfied customer!" ...customer. Singular. One customer. And its a link to his website! I dont care about RJ Poet! YOU dont care about RJ Poet. RJ's MOM is even hesitant sometimes. NEXT PAGE!!!
"About Us" ...It starts off with what I'm sure was supposed to be some sort of uplifting speech about... well, I dont know. You judge for yourself. "Hobbs Publishing is committed to providing you with a quality product and service. We believe that every writer is an author and every author wants the world to know what the know. So, as we say . . . If life is a rehearsal, why are our costumes in need of repair? If life is a dream, then why are there nightmares? If life is worth living, then why are we dying? If you have the answer to the question of life . . . can you write the book?"
...I refuse to even comment on THAT. And in case that little whatever-it-was didnt motivate you... "Find out how your life can change . . . as you write a book on life to change others!" **I'm crying. I'm truly crying.**
But they leave you with a "Why Our Business?" "Our goal is to make you happy, while providing you with economical graphics and innovative designed products!" ...What is an economical graphic? Please? Anyone? AND incase that wasnt enough fun for ya, there's a "VISIT ONE OF OUR PARTNERS!" with Mr. RJ's website link again. Shouldnt it say "VISIT OUR PARTNER!" instead? If you dare to click on the "CONTACT US" page, you will get the phone numbers, address, email accounts and a "Send us an e-mail so that we can review your project so we can determine if you qualify for our special offer." ...I betcha if you have the $$, you qualify!! They're going broke since sales on RJ's poetry went down. I blame the economical graphics. Clearly not economical enough.
I have found very possibly the worst and best website on the planet.
The best part is... it wasnt bad on purpose.
*drum roll please* I give you... HOBBS PUBLISHING! (hobbspublishing.com)
Hobbs Publishing is a self-publishing company for those writers too lazy or too crappy to get published by a reputable publishing house. I have researched these types of things many times in my own impatient efforts to skip over the crap of submission and just get on with the publishing.
But in my research, I'm finding it is rarely if ever profitable or worthwhile unless you merely want one copy of your own book for your own purposes. This particular company, however, takes the cake.
And I will tell you why...
I shall begin with one of their very clever phrases used to entice the poor, desperate author... "When you have your books printed, Many people will probably want to buy your book!"
...That alone should be enough to prove my point. I even had both sides of my brain in agreement as they shouted "PROBABLY?! Did you just say PROBABLY?!" Everyone knows the key ingredient to selling anything is confidence, assuredness... act like you know what you're talking about and that the item you want to sell is vital to their very survival! NEVER use words like "probably" and dont capitalize words in the middle of a sentence unless its proper cause it makes ya look retarded.
Now, lets go to the home page of the website to begin our journey. Pretty colors. Charcoal colored background, Pumpkin orange header, White text background in the body of the page, Black side panel with navigation options. Simple, but pleasant enough color scheme. I'm not grossed out yet.
First thing you see is a small paragraph about the company. "We are honored to present you some of our most valuable business solutions. We have various ways to help you improve your business image. Whether you are in business for someone else, or an independent contract freelancer, we believe that our services will empower you to provide increased quality customer service that will place on the cutting edge."
After reading that, I take an anti-nausea pill and try to figure out what just happened. I cant, so I move on.
On the right hand side in bright red, big bold letters- "SPECIAL OFFER! For only $949 We will convert your manuscript into a formatted book!"
Woohoo! I'm excited! And what does the special offer include, you ask? Well, let me tell you. Here is what you get: 1. One standard book cover (2 choices) 2. Your typed manuscript converted into formatted text pages (Microsoft Word format) 3. A CD with your formatted book file (printing costs not included in this offer) 4. Reputable printers who are inexpensive. (The offer is LIMITED so call them TODAY!!)
...If you will notice... it doesnt mention how many copies you get. You get ONE book cover... *as opposed to the 7 I know you were wanting.* You get formatted text? Wait...what? I'm assuming you would be emailing the manuscript in the first place... so they stick it in Microsoft Word for you? But wait! There's more! You get a CD with the book on it... since the one you emailed them clearly wasnt enough e-book for ya...(but printing costs arent included), AND you get reputable printers who are inexpensive. Basically, $949 gets your book stuck on a cd and mailed back to you with a list of places to take it to get printed. Oh, and ONE book cover.
But hey! A printed book will make many people probably want to buy it. ALWAYS REMEMBER THAT!
There is a disclaimer here though. It says, "Disclaimer: Customer assumes all risks and liabilities associated with the development of the book and cover. It is also acknowledged by the customer that any text, images and or information is the customer's originalo work." Yes, ladies and gentlemen... after all the risks and liabilities (from dangerous writing) its still the customer's originalo work. A publishing company with typos on the website. That gets an A+ from me.
At the bottom of the page, after a list of "WHAT WE DO" there's another fun little motivational selling point. "WE CUT OUT THE MIDDLEMAN TO PASS THE SAVINGS ON TO YOU! Imagine the money you will save!"
Now, correct me if I'm wrong... Arent they just ADDING middlemen to the whole mess? Wouldnt submitting the manuscript straight to an actual publishing company cut out the middle man? And uh, that bit about saving money... Clearly, they dont understand that if you submit to a publishing company and they like the book, THEY pay YOU!! So, really, you pay more to self publish, add people to the mix and... oh! there are more pages to this website, I nearly forgot!
NEXT PAGE!! "Services"
It says: Fresh Marketing Solutions Sample book design inside and out: Featuring- Reality From the Heart, By R.J. Poet, Author and Poet (there is absolutely no link there by the way. There is no sample book design.) Then, it says: "Uniquely designed (in rust colored, italic text- looks vaguely like comic sans font) BOOK COVERS (in alternating colors, because rainbow words mean they are serious about unique!) We take great care in working with you to design the ultimate book cover for your book. For example, we take your ideas and design them into a cover you can be proud of and share with others. "
Now, I cant for the life of me figure out why "For Example" is in italics. But it doesnt matter. Immediately after that is the.... WHEN YOU HAVE YOUR BOOKS PRINTED, MANY PEOPLE WILL PROBABLY WANT TO BUY YOUR BOOK! Hahahhahahahahahaha!! (re-reads it...) HAHAHHAHAH!!!!
THEN there is "Sample book design inside and out from one of our satisfied customer!" ...customer. Singular. One customer. And its a link to his website! I dont care about RJ Poet! YOU dont care about RJ Poet. RJ's MOM is even hesitant sometimes. NEXT PAGE!!!
"About Us" ...It starts off with what I'm sure was supposed to be some sort of uplifting speech about... well, I dont know. You judge for yourself. "Hobbs Publishing is committed to providing you with a quality product and service. We believe that every writer is an author and every author wants the world to know what the know. So, as we say . . . If life is a rehearsal, why are our costumes in need of repair? If life is a dream, then why are there nightmares? If life is worth living, then why are we dying? If you have the answer to the question of life . . . can you write the book?"
...I refuse to even comment on THAT. And in case that little whatever-it-was didnt motivate you... "Find out how your life can change . . . as you write a book on life to change others!" **I'm crying. I'm truly crying.**
But they leave you with a "Why Our Business?" "Our goal is to make you happy, while providing you with economical graphics and innovative designed products!" ...What is an economical graphic? Please? Anyone? AND incase that wasnt enough fun for ya, there's a "VISIT ONE OF OUR PARTNERS!" with Mr. RJ's website link again. Shouldnt it say "VISIT OUR PARTNER!" instead? If you dare to click on the "CONTACT US" page, you will get the phone numbers, address, email accounts and a "Send us an e-mail so that we can review your project so we can determine if you qualify for our special offer." ...I betcha if you have the $$, you qualify!! They're going broke since sales on RJ's poetry went down. I blame the economical graphics. Clearly not economical enough.
Cities on Fire
Its only after the fact that I realize how slightly macbre it is to describe something beautiful as "looking like a city is on fire". Or maybe its just a telling of how slightly skewed my brain is to find that thought appealing.
On the drive to Pennsylvania a few weeks ago, we left very early in the morning. I sat there in the driver's seat, coffee in hand, hunched over the wheel, trying to pay attention to the road ahead of me despite the severe sleep deprivation... It had finally stopped raining so my eyelids were doing better at holding themselves in an upright position.
The sun was thinking about coming up on the horizon. The sky was still black and thick with clouds, so the sunlight was reflecting off the low lying clouds- turning them orange and red in the distance. Were you to drive towards a city on fire at night- it would have the same appearance, I'm certain of it. The clouds looked like black smoke, hovering above the blazing city.
It was amazing. So imagine my disappointment when the red faded, turning the sky, and all its clouds, the dull grey of dawn. No cities had burned that morning. Not a single one. Well, maybe one, somewhere. But not on I-20 towards Shreveport.
On the drive to Pennsylvania a few weeks ago, we left very early in the morning. I sat there in the driver's seat, coffee in hand, hunched over the wheel, trying to pay attention to the road ahead of me despite the severe sleep deprivation... It had finally stopped raining so my eyelids were doing better at holding themselves in an upright position.
The sun was thinking about coming up on the horizon. The sky was still black and thick with clouds, so the sunlight was reflecting off the low lying clouds- turning them orange and red in the distance. Were you to drive towards a city on fire at night- it would have the same appearance, I'm certain of it. The clouds looked like black smoke, hovering above the blazing city.
It was amazing. So imagine my disappointment when the red faded, turning the sky, and all its clouds, the dull grey of dawn. No cities had burned that morning. Not a single one. Well, maybe one, somewhere. But not on I-20 towards Shreveport.
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