Sunday, October 9, 2016

Things in Fall

I know it's been awhile since I written, I lost time somewhere. A whole month just vanished, at least that is what it feels like. I have a shit load of things to say, so I am just going to with the abridged version.

Thought 1

One of the biggest draws about Donald Trump is that he speaks what is on his mind. And while that is his first amendment right, my question is if I said exactly  what was on my mind, especially on Facebook, how many friends would I have left? I am thinking five. I suppose since I am not famous like DT, then I don't get the same pass as he does. I really think we should change that. I think I should say whatever I want, and everyone will come to my defense.

Thought 2

I know it's late, but DT claimed almost a billion dollar loss for the 1995 tax year and it had the internet in an uproar. Since it is apparent, his accountant broke no laws. Then the real problem is with the tax code. The folks that change the tax code is congress. So who do you think you should be bitching to?

Thought 3

Paul Ryan, current speaker of the house, has a plan to really to bring trickle down economics to fruition  if DT becomes president. Yes, I want to live in a world where profits are more extreme and the workers get nothing better (not). Look at Wal-Mart. Profit every year and they just recently decided to give more to the workers. So corporate taxes are one of the highest among developed nations but does cutting taxes really mean that it will trickle down? Wouldn't that depend on the folks in charge, and golly cutting corporate taxes really only means a bigger bonus for the CEO. So please, I am asking for my own knowledge, if anyone can provide an example of how trickle down worked, please share it with me. I think if the people who buy shit  had more spending power, then profits will be inevitable. There is a lot more non rich people than rich people.

Thought 4

My kid changed my name and now I have to wait another couple of months before I can change it back. But no worries, I am still JM Scott.

Thought 5

Dear members of all media, can we have one day without talk about Hillary Clinton or Donald Trump. No talk about the vice presidents either. Is it possible to turn off the bull shit this election has become?  I am tired of constant deflection because it seems like the only thing anyone is doing. For example, "you think my candidate sucks, well your candidate does or did this?" Let's talk issues, does anyone still know what those are?

Thought 6

I'm done with this year's election. I just want it over.

Thought 7

You got election blues?  Everyone should follow several animal pages on Facebook because at least animals are cute and interesting. I love Pandas and I spend a lot of time looking at Panda videos.

Thought 8

I have nine poems left to write for my upcoming Halloween/ horror themed poetry collection Trick or Poem. I am shooting for a release date of October 24, 2016.

And that is about it. I am sure there was more but I can't think of anything else. Take care. Until next time...

Monday, September 5, 2016

Zero November- A Creepypasta Zero Story

Novie slipped in through the kitchen door. Her mother sat at the table on the phone and computer.  As she tried to move past her unseen, her mother hung up the phone.

“What are you doing here, Novie? I thought you had practice until four.”

“I didn’t feel like going.”

“Are you sick?”

“No, I just didn’t feel like going. Maybe, I don’t want to be a cheerleader anymore,” Novie said and ran up to her room. She slammed the door and turned on her computer.

“I can’t believe your mom actually let you quit,” Jersey, Novie’s best friend said, as she lay on her stomach on the thick, deep- purple comforter on Novie’s bed.

“Not really. She tried to get me back on the squad even called  coach Kim, but no deal. Kim said if I were a happier and a more devoted cheerleader she might consider it. Now, mom is on this kick of finding something else for me to do.”


“How the hell should I know? I guess she wants her alone time whoring around,” Novie said and changed the radio.

“You know,  Halloween is like three weeks away. What do you want to go as? I was thinking we could be villains from Once Upon a Time. I want to be Regina.  You could be Zelena. Or I could be Zelena and you could  be Regina.”

“We always dress up in some cheesy, matching Halloween costumes,” Novie said.

Jersey frowned, “okay Nov, then what do you want to dress up as?”


“The Creepypasta Zero?”


“Why? Isn’t she a little, I don’t know, creepy?”

“That’s the point isn’t it? It is Halloween.” Novie got off the bed and went to the closet and pulled out the outfit she had been assembling for the last week. “I pretty much got everything I need except the hair dye, the colored contacts and the sledgehammer.”

“That’s cool. I guess;  I could go as a Creepypasta character as well.”

“Why don’t you dress up who want to be? I think you would be an awesome Evil Queen. You love wearing fancy dresses.”

“I know, but it’s like our best friend thing.”

“Just because we are dressing differently, doesn’t mean we are not still best friends.”

Two weeks before Halloween, Novie found her mom downstairs.

“Mom, can you order these things for my Halloween costume?” Novie gave her the list.

“White hair dye, white contact lenses, a sledgehammer? We don’t have the money for this. If you need this stuff so bad, why not ask your father for the money?”

“How do we not have the money? He pays child support and alimony,” Novie snapped.

“First of that money goes to the bills and the food.”

“And it is supposed to pay for my clothes as well.”

“Yeah clothes you wear to school, not expensive Halloween costume crap. If you want this shit, ask your father for the money.”

“Fine,” Novie said and marched off.

Her dad answered on the first ring, “November, what is it? I’m a little busy.”

“Dad, this won’t take long. I need some money to buy things for my Halloween costume and mom said we don’t have the money and she told me to ask you.”

She heard him count to ten quietly on the other end. He took a breath in and said, “fine call Tracy and tell her what you need. Tell her I said to get what you needed.” Then he hung up.

At least she was making progress for her costume. She could tell her dad was pissed, and she also knew he would be calling her mom later on to bitch her out. Novie didn’t blame him. Why is that her mother got  pretty nails and fancy clothes and Novie was left shopping the bargain bin?

Tracy, her stepmother, was eager and pleased to help Novie out.

“One of my friends is a hairdresser. I can take you over tomorrow and she will color your hair white. Since your hair is so dark anyway, it might be the best to have a professional do it.”


“Yeah, maybe if you want,  we can spend some time together.  Do you need anything else for your costume?”

“No, I have the outfit already.  I had to buy the tights but the rest I had in my closet.”

“How about I pick you from school?” Tracy asked.


When she arrived home from spending all afternoon with Tracy, her mother was pissed.

“What the fuck is this? Why did you ignore my calls? Where the hell was you?”

“I was with Tracy.  She paid for my hair. I think it looks nice. Instead of all white, the hairdresser said I should do a black and white ombre.”

“No, it looks like shit. It’s funny how she has all this money to waste on you but I can’t get any more from that lying sack of shit. You know he called me this morning. Fucking prick.”

“That lying sack of shit is my dad!” Novie screamed. “And Tracy is nice and she wanted to hang out with me. She bought the rest of my Halloween costume and we ate at Applebee’s and went shopping. We had fun.”

“I would say, go live with your father. But he doesn’t want you either.”

“Fuck you, mom!”

Novie’s mom, slapped her across the face. Novie started to cry, she ran up to her room.

Novie came home from school and there was a large package on the doorstep. She picked it up and smiled. It had to be the sledgehammer. She looked at the box closer and something was strange about it.  Her name was written on the box in a black marker, but not her address. There was no shipping label or a return address. It was like it just appeared out of nowhere.  A chill raced down her spine as the October wind picked up and swirled leaves around her.

She brought the box to her room and opened it. Inside was a sledgehammer, but not the sledgehammer she picked out from eBay. This had a painted white wooden handle with strange rune-like markings on the shaft.  The top was black and made from what appeared to rubber. Etched in the rubber and painted in white was the number zero with a line through it, a computer zero.  Novie took it out of the box.

As she held it in her hands, a warm feeling radiated from the sledge hammer through her hands, up through her arms, to her heart. This was hers. It was meant for her. It was like that feeling she got when chose out her puppy from the shelter before he parents divorced. He was a skinny, skittery little black dog with a big brown spot by his tail. She had a connection with him and had to have him. Of course, when her parents divorced  less than a year ago, Tartan had to go back to the pound because her mother couldn’t afford to take care of him. She had a connection with the sledgehammer. This was meant to be. Kismet.

She woke on Halloween morning, kissed the sledgehammer that she had been sleeping with since she got it. Lucky for her, Jersey has not wanted to come over in awhile. Otherwise she would think it was weird that Novie had received a sledgehammer and that she had been sharing a bed with it, even cuddling it like was her childhood lovey. And really Novie, didn’t want Jersey coming over anymore, and she never saw her except for school. She told her that her mom grounded her, but the truth was she had to get home from school and be with the sledgehammer. She would spend all her time laying  in bed with it, stroking it, talking to it, doing things with it.

Novie popped the white contact lenses in. She got them a couple of days earlier and started wearing them full time. The whispers started when she had her dyed, but it got worse with the contacts. Novie didn’t care  about those posers anymore. She couldn’t believe she used to want to be friends with them and maintain her status. All that mattered now was the sledgehammer.

She  slipped on the black and white tights and the black jean cut off shorts. She put on a black bra and her black fishnet shirt and a black tank top. Separating her hair in the center, she put it up in pig tails. Lastly, she slipped on the finger-less gloves. She picked up the sledgehammer and swung it around.

“Oh my god, this would make a killer video.”

Novie grabbed her phone and started recording. She claimed to be Zero, swung at the full-length mirror and shattered it.

“Did I hurt you? I’m sorry. I love you.  I’m so sorry,” Novie said and cradled the sledgehammer. She kissed it once again. Then turned off her phone.

“So I can’t take you to school, but we will be going out tonight. There is a poser party at Riley Mondoon’s house. And we are going to be  awesome,” Novie said to the sledgehammer, kissed it once again and left.

  Novie carried the sledgehammer over her right shoulder with her hand firmly on the shaft.
Never had she felt more alive, more purposeful. Tonight was going to be her night; she knew it. Her mother was standing in a slinky nurse’s costume on the phone, like always.

“Well you were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago, we are going to be late for the party,” her mother said to her boyfriend of the week.

Novie felt like she was drifting away, a voyeur on her own life.  She let the sledgehammer fall from her should so that the center of the shaft was in her hand.  Grabbing it with her other hand, Novie swung it until connected with her mother’s head. The skull snapped and cracked and blood shot out from the wound. Her mother fell to the floor, twitching. She was still alive, but couldn’t speak to whoever was on the phone.

She heard his voice.  He yelled for her mother. Her mother groaned and gurgled.

“Happy Halloween, Mom.”

It was eight and it just started getting dark out. Novie wandered the streets on her way to the party. She had blood on her face and hair and on the tool. Little kids in their cowboy and princess costumes screamed when they saw her and ran to their mommies. At Riley’s house, she slipped into the shadows on the side of the house. She saw Jersey and some other girls from the squad all dressed like villains from Once Upon a Time. Funny how that was their best friend thing. Perhaps if, Jersey was a bit more understanding she would have continued to be her friend instead of ditching her.

“Jersey,” Novie yelled from the shadows.

“Novie, is that you? I didn’t think you were coming.”

“Can you come here?”

Jersey appeared, “I’ve missed you, Nov. What’s been going on with you?”

“Sure you’ve missed me, that’s why you stopped coming over. You were jealous because I had this,” Novie said and showed her the sledgehammer.

“Well, it’s really cool. But why I would be jealous of a stupid sledgehammer?  It’s just a cool prop. I think this costume fits you.  You look awesome.”

“It’s not a prop;  it’s real. I’m real.”

“Novie?” Jersey asked.

Novie held the sledgehammer in her hands. She smiled.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Novie swung it at Jersey’s face. Her nose and teeth broke. Jersey fell against the wall and almost to the ground.   More blood sprayed over Novie.  Jersey tried to scream but Novie swung the sledgehammer again hitting her once more in the face, but this time her face was smashed against the brick wall. Jersey collapsed to the ground and her face looked like  it melted behind a mask.

Not knowing what to do next and feeling damn good and alive, Novie went to the backyard.  Halloween lights were  strung up in the patio. Hip-hop wafted through the open sliding glass door. Guys laughed and girls squealed. There were a couple of guys sitting on the patio, smoking a bong. She sauntered closer to them, with her trusty sidekick slung on her shoulder.

“Damn, Novie. You are hot,” Shane said. “Why don’t you come over here and sit on big papa’s lap?”

Shane, the player, he had a go around with everyone else but not her. She was never interested him and his sleazy ways. She used to prefer guys who weren’t jocks, smart guys,  not nerds, but the smart, brooding, hotties. Tonight,  playing with Shane would be fun.

“Hey Shane, what are you supposed to be?”

“A pirate and I want some booty! And yours looks like a fine treasure.”

The others laughed. Novie laughed and came closer until she was standing in front of him. “So is this what you want?” she asked.

“You going to give it up, or am I going to take it?” He asked.

The two other guys chortled.

“You know you are going to have to take it from her,” one said.

“Look at how she wants you,” the other said and inhaled from the bong.

“Oh, I was thinking about doing the taking,” Novie said slyly.

The guys whooped. Shane sat back in the chair, “I’m all yours, baby.”

In one fluid motion, she held the sledgehammer in her hands. It was an extension of her; she was one with it.  She whipped the sledgehammer and whacked Shane’s head like a baseball. Blood squirted from the side of his face.

“And I think that is a home run, fellas. Isn’t that what he wanted?”

One of the guys screamed and ran inside. The other grabbed his phone and called 9-1-1. With the commotion, people from party came to the door. The guy inside was screaming. Novie leaped over to the guy on the phone and struck him. His phone went sailing into the grass and more blood rained on her. She loved the way it felt when hit her face and then dripped down. It was like art. Everyone had their phones out. They had to be recording. She was famous. She was Zero.

“November, stop!” Riley yelled.

The crowd parted. He had a shotgun in his hand. He cocked it.

She went for him and he fired into her eye and out the back of her head taking brain bits with it. She wavered and dropped the sledgehammer and then fell to the ground.

Eleven Months Later

“Sargent, we have a problem?” Officer Madeston said on the phone from the evidence room in Meridan Police Department.

“What’s that?”

“That sledgehammer, which was used to kill all those people last Halloween, is gone.”

“What the hell do you mean gone?”

“It was here last week, when I did my weekly  inventory and now it is not. I looked at the video and no one left with it. No one came in here but me.”

“For Crissakes, how the hell does a sledgehammer just walk out of a secured police station?”

Zero-Creepypasta,  written by ZombiePunkRat inspired this story.

Thursday, August 18, 2016

Congealed Sticks of Coolness

light bulb luminescence
on the shadow stage,
I rape fantasies.
assembly line witches
take to the sky,
silver moonlight decays
into another long
goodbye. I am
deliberate surges
of power, hostage
to twisted imaginations
hanging around unseen faith.
the shattered supreme
battery choir covets
diesel in the clouds,
I explode- capturing
splintered sunsets.

It's been awhile since I posted a poem. One day I will get around to collecting some poems on my hard drive ( the good ones not the sucky ones) and make a poetry collection. Speaking of poetry collections, I only fourteen more poems to write for Trick or Poem. I will be taking my last poetry workshop in school in the upcoming term.

Sad to see summer go.

Till next time

Saturday, August 13, 2016

Help Me Win!

Hey all, So I am one of those people that think there are signs in this world and sometimes act on them rather impulsively. Well, this is one of those times. For the last couple of days, I have been polishing Gone Before Dawn, the novel I wrote in 2014. While on Facebook one day, I came across an ad to enter the novel in the contest through Yeah, I know they really don't have a good reputation right now, but honestly I do not have much to lose. Back to contest, I submit my novel and then if I am one of the winners, they will try and get my book published at a major publisher, like an agent. If there are no takers, then they will publish it through Kindle and market it. Their premise is using math and picking out a bestseller based on the reader. From what I read they based off of the phenomenal success of Fifty Shades ( I won't even get into that right now).

This is where I need you. If you think I have what it takes.Then please join the site and reserve a copy of my novel. Here is the link Gone Before Dawn Please help me. The only thing, I hate about this is I know like five people that will help me and now I have to go around and begging for help. I am not even a good beggar. The entire novel is posted and I sincerely hope you enjoy it.

Thanks in advance.

Thursday, August 11, 2016

Dear NRA

Thanks for calling today! I don't know why I answered the phone, but I must have thought that is was important. I am not sure why I listened to about half of the recorded message from the VP, I suppose I was curious.  And the gist of the phone call was to try and  solicit money from me  because with Hillary Clinton lurking around the White House, WE ARE IN SERIOUS DANGER OF LOSING OUR SECOND AMENDMENT RIGHT. HILLARY CLINTON AND THOSE DEMOCRATS ARE TAKING OUR GUNS!!!

Unfortunately, I do not and never have felt that my second amendment right was at risk. I can't believe so many people believe all  Democrats and those associated with them are evil, gun hating people that want to melt all weapons into pony figurines. I don't hate guns.   I'm sorry NRA, I don't respond to your brand of begging for money, what you are pushing is irrational fear. Maybe that works for some people, but not for me.

I believe in the second amendment, as I do with all the amendments. But here's the problem and it's not with Tom, Dick, or Jane's right to own a firearm. Honestly, I really don't give a shit if a law abiding person owns a gun or fifty. What I have a problem with is the people who have a PFA and for some reason get a gun and kill someone.  I have a problem with people who have serious mental issues getting a firearm. I have a problem with people who illegally obtain handguns to kill other people. What I have problem is why in the last twenty years people decide that using a gun is their weapon of choice to kill others for no good reason.

You don't know this, but I am looking for answers for those questions. How are guns getting on the streets and how we do fix the problem? Perhaps if you called me on the phone and told me you wanted to spend my donation on finding solutions to this very real problem, I might donate. If you called me on the phone and told me that the NRA knows there is a gun problem with criminals  and you have real ideas that both sides of the aisle way can agree on then perhaps I would share my money with this cause,

The NRA has a lot of clout, there's no denying it. Instead of screaming that the we are going to lose our guns, which is untrue, perhaps we, me, you, and everyone,  should figure out solutions. Maybe that is how the money should be spent. And NRA, you just  might have a lot more members because you are using your incredible force to benefit all and not just a few.

And before go, since I truly believe in the first amendment right, please feel free to call me names because that is what it seems like people, who do not agree with another person (both Republicans, Democrats and others),  do online. Please call me whatever helps you sleep better at night, or make you feel better about yourself. Chances are,  there is probably at least one grammar mistake call me stupid and uneducated, if you wish.

Monday, July 25, 2016

Watch the Parties Fall Apart

Just after a week of Donald Trump officially received the Republican nod for president, the Democrats go and have a shit storm of a convention in Philadelphia. The latest is the chair of the DNC sent emails trying to undermine Sanders' campaign, with thoughts of trying to say he he was atheist. Stop right there....

1. Why the fuck does it matter if the person running for president is atheist? Does it make you bad person? All of a sudden you have no morals because you don't believe in god. Ever hear of a thing called separation of church and state? You know what there should BE MORE of that. Unlike the Republicans who wants to push a fake Christian agenda onto a people where there is supposed to FREEDOM of religion as granted by the FIRST AMENDMENT.

2. To try and undermine Sanders' campaign just shows that the Democrats have little faith in Hillary Clinton in winning the nomination. I don't know why that is, but that is pretty pathetic.

3. Clinton Campaign tries to pin the email leak on Russia. Hey, I thought it was 2016, didn't the cold war end? When I first read that, I thought I went back in time. Maybe Putin does care who is President and maybe he would prefer one over the other but I highly doubt the Russian Kremlin hacked into the DNC email system to benefit the Donald. I think Putin is smarter than that  and I am sure if he really wanted Donald in, he would do it more covertly.

4. There is a lot of talk about rigged campaigns. I cannot speak for other states. I voted in the primaries in PENNSYLVANIA. I went to my polling place, there were no lines. They found my name easily as they have for the last several elections. I have been registered to vote since I was 18 (18 years ago). I registered as republican at 18. Changed to an independent later on. In 2007, I switched my party affiliation to democrat to vote in the primaries and never switched it back. I don't normally vote in primaries, but I vote in all the elections in November.  Anyway Clinton won Pennsylvania in 2016 and I didn't see anything about voter fraud and other problems. But then again maybe Sanders never really cared about Pennsylvania. I know we are not as big as California or New York but we quite a few delegates up for grabs. And if the DNC were fucking with polling places, I guess they didn't care about Pennsylvania anyway.  I also never vote straight ticket. 

Of course not be outdone or more mature than the Republicans,  half the democrats hate Hillary Clinton. Hate her so much  that there are protests and booing and sorts of adult things going on. Oh yeah the Democrat party is fractured big time. And let's not forget some Bernie supporters are going green. That is really effective since Jill Stein is not on every state's ballot. Gary Johnson is but since he doesn't offer free college, I guess he is nothing but a reasonable individual with good thoughts.

So let's all cry that Bernie Sanders is not the nominee and huff and puff and make a big ole fuss. And here are your options in November:

1. Stay the fuck home.

2. Write Bernie Sanders in

3. Vote for Jill Stein or I guess write her in since she is not on all the state's ballots

4. Vote for Gary Johnson, libertarian which is a party I am thinking of joining. I am having a hard time accepting the platform the Republicans are standing behind. Democrats have more I agree with. The Libertarian has the most I agree with except for the economic plans, which I tend to fall with democrats on that one. Okay, I may not be old enough to really know, but here's my thought. I am 36. Reagan was elected in November of 1980 with his thoughts of trickle down. It is now 2016 and the only thing I see is more money at the top and nothing at the bottom. In fact, I would have to win a large Powerball to even make it to the top. Because even if I were to become a doctor I still would only be in the middle. Hard work doesn't get you where you used to.

5. Vote for Donald Trump

6. Vote for Hillary

7. Vote for congress and write your favorite cartoon character for president. I cannot stress this enough. At least vote for the members of congress. And if you don't know why, then maybe you should go to school with the immigrants who have to learn all about this country so they can be a citizen.

Sunday, July 24, 2016

Turning 36

Last week (July 15), I turned 36. It is sort of a weird age. I don't feel any different than I did maybe six years ago, except I creak a hell of a lot more than I used to.  I don't feel old or antique. And lately, it has sort of dawned on me that parents are 60 and turning 59. It's not that I didn't know that before, it just seems like my time with them is running out. I wonder what  kind of things they thought about when they were my age. It's not just that, but my kid turned 12 in June. All of this just puts me in a weird place, there are thoughts I want to think of but I can't find the words. Most of the time, I feel like I am still 25, and  everyone else around me is getting older. I don't have gray hair, but I am fine with the grays. And maybe that's why I don't feel 36. Although I secretly hope that when I am old, I have white hair like my grandmother. It's sort of like blonde but  not.

I thought I would be a lot further along in my writing career than I am now. I go in these waves of working hard and sending away stuff. But of course, I also get  rejections up the ass. All rejections all the time. So maybe I am just good enough to be a writer. I am having a hard time writing lately. I had all these plans for 2016, which were flushed down the toilet. I have ideas, yet no ambition. Sometimes, I tell myself I just need a nibble, of someone in the world telling me I'm okay. But, then I suppose that is addicting,  the constant need of "atta boy." I don't give myself a pat on the back because I don't deserve them; I am just not good at writing. If that is the case, what then? All my life I thought of myself as a writer. Here I am about halfway through my life and I feel like I am just floating along like a dry hot wind from the west.

In my wind storm of thoughts and story ideas, I am lost and I don't know what to do. I always think like a writer and read like a writer and I don't know what to do with myself if I weren't a writer. I try not think like that. It creeps up all the time though. It is frustration and confusion and anger. Why can't I just be good enough, at least just once. I don't see it in myself. I can't stop comparing myself to any other writer and wonder what the hell is wrong with my work.

I suppose it is hard to explain.  I sit around wondering how other people's, normal, non writers brains work and maybe my brain is not right. Because I would like to feel normal once and maybe I can see something I didn't before.