Posts Tagged ‘Bennie L. Newsome’

I write with a baby in my lap. What's your excuse?

I write with a baby in my lap. What’s your excuse?

I planned on writing my trademark blog — humorous and in your face — but I just don’t have it in me right now. It’s midnight. My fiancée is asleep, my child is asleep, and that’s where I want to be so let’s get this over with.

Aaron Gudmunson asked me to participate in something entitled Coming Soon! Blog Hop. I agreed because Aaron is a good guy. Then there’s the fact that I’m trying to be more social and less of a recluse. So I agreed to participate, but it’s one of those “chain letter” type blog post where you post a blog then get three more to do the same. If you’ve read any of my blogs before — which you probably haven’t — I have a great disdain for chain letters. Phut! <That’s me spitting. I spit on chain letters. But like I said, Aaron is a good guy. I met him in an anthology, I don’t remember which one, but I do remember his story and I liked it. Check him out over at http://coldbrood.blogspot.com/, but whatever you do, don’t come back here. I’m rarely here anymore. But wait! Don’t go just yet. I have some news to share and a ridiculously generic interview to do. Stay with me long enough to read what I have to say then click on whatever link you want to take you away from here and don’t come back. Not because I don’t like you. I’m rarely here is all.

Before the interview I want to share some things with you. I would wait until after the interview, but I’m afraid you won’t last that long — premature evacuation is what the kids are calling it nowadays.

May 2, I have a humorous piece of work going up over at http://thehiggsweldon.com/. If the beginning of relationships started out as a job interview, how would the resumes look? Well, I wrote a resume in which a guy is trying to get the job of being some girl’s new squeeze. Check it out if you get the chance. If you forget, come back here, click on the link, then never return.

I also have a legitimate interview scheduled to appear May 6 over at http://cemeteryflower.blog.com/. Click on the link, locate the “Isolation” tab, and find my name. Should be fun.

I think that’s it. Are you still there? Good. Just hang on a little while longer. I swear I’m almost done. <That’s what he said. Here’s my Coming Soon! Blog Hop interview.

What are you working on right now?

Have you ever read a book or watched a movie and thought, Man! I wish I thought of that first. I think that all the time. If I had a time machine, I would procure a busload of novels and travel back to before they were written and write them first. None of Stephen King works. What Stephen King writes should only be written by Stephen King, but I’d definitely become the author of Pirates of the Caribbean. Anyway, back to the point I’m trying to make. All of my current works in progress are kept top secret – with the exception of the publishers I submit to and literary agents, and I cross my t’s and dot my i’s with them too – until it’s published. Yeah, that’s how original my ideas are.

However, I can say that I am currently working on short stories for pro market venues with the intention of spreading my name and establishing a greater reputation. And I must say things are going very well so far.

Next question please.
How does it differ from other works in its genre?

Well, my work has by Bennie L. Newsome on the cover page. No other work in its genre has that.

Next question please.

What experiences have influenced you?

I came into this writing game thinking all I had to do was write, present said writing to a publisher, and fame came instantly. That was foolish, amateurish thinking. Rejections taught me to write better, acceptances taught me not to say yes to everyone who told me yes. If you’re published in a forest and there’s no one around to read it, are you really published? No. And this revelation taught me not to submit to just anybody. In the end, my experiences have taught me to have more patience, my writing has evolved, my standards are higher and uncompromising, and I’m a whole lot closer to my goal than I was when I started.

Why do you write what you do?

I write what I do because it’s who I am. My work is humorous at times because I like to laugh. Horror is my favorite genre to read, so of course I’m going to write about horrifying situations. If you notice me give a shout out to God in my work, it’s because I know He exists. I prefer to write for young adults and middle graders because they still read just for the love of reading. They’re not dissecting every sentence and proofreading the entire time. This is why I write horror, humor, or Christian fantasy for young adults and middle graders.

How does your writing process work?

My work stems from a single idea. The BoogeyMann came from me asking, “What if a man scared his children as punishment instead of whipping them?” Life is no Fairytale came from me imagining the prince in Rapunzel climbing to a third floor apartment instead of making his way to the top of a tower.  Agape was born from the question, “What if these crows following me were actually angels in the guise of birds?” An idea presents itself to me and I just start writing, no outline. I never know what’s going to happen until it happens.
What is the hardest part about writing?

Finishing. I can start a story easy enough, but once I get to the middle I have to force myself to write, and by the time I near the finish line, I’m crawling. Probably comes from not having an outline.

What would you like to try as a writer that you haven’t yet?

Getting an advanced royalty check from a big publisher. I’d like to try that.

Who are the authors you most admire?

Stephen King. The man is a freaking genius. And I like James Patterson because his work can be ingested as easy as water, and he is a go getter. I love his work ethic. I also like John Grisham’s work, and J.R.R. Tolkien wrote my favorite books.

Who are new authors to watch out for?

How am I suppose to know? I’m too busy writing while reading the works of my role models. Plus, new authors are like roaches. There are a whole lot of us, we’re all over the place, and you never notice a particular one until it jumps off the wall and flutters in your face. And then you’re like, “Oh, s&%t! One of these damn writers flew in my face!” You slap ’em down and squash it with your foot.

However, this blog hopping dictates that I choose three writers to keep the “chain letter” going. I chose these authors (one didn’t respond and I don’t blame her), not because I’m familiar with their work — since I’m not. I chose them because they made an impact with me.

Rob Teun: He’s the most helpful guy I have ever met — probably because he’s from England. You don’t often see writers constantly promoting their peers, but Rob is always talking up others. He’s mentioning people on Twitter, Facebook, and he reads the works of others to leave reviews on designated websites. The guy is selfless, and because of that characteristic, I choose him as a new author to look out for. You can find his author’s page on https://www.facebook.com/rd.teun.3?fref=ts.

Shikhar Srivastava: He’s a fellow writer and Facebook friend. I always thought of him as a cool guy because of his posts, but one day – on Facebook – I proclaimed that I was on my way to being a bestselling novelist. Shikhar was the only one to comment on my post, and that comment was “#MeToo.” I watch as everyone writes and gets published and do “big” things, but still get nowhere. And they appear to be content with the hamster wheel. I, on the other hand, am shooting for the stars, and Shikhar earned my respect by stating that he shared the same intent. And for that, I chose him as a new author to look out for. Check out his blog space over at http://shikhartechlabs.wordpress.com/.

Alright. Final question, then I’m going to bed.

What scares you?

Just about everything. And because I know fear, I can write about it convincingly.

Good night. Thanks for stopping by, and don’t come back.

–The Ravings of a Madman

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It is finally here, folks! The time that I have been eagerly awaiting, and the time you all have been dreading. The release of my second novel, Life is no Fairytale, is upon us. Now I shall zip throughout cyberspace leaving news about my latest release all over the place while you all groan and silently ask that I stop bombarding you with this stuff. Facebook friends will mysteriously disappear, and Twitter followers will unfollow. Those who subscribe to my blog will delete their email notifications, unread. Ah! Being an author among the independent presses is a wonderful experience, I must say.

Now gather around all you under the sound of my virtual voice–which sounds a lot like Barry White, by the way–and let me tell you why Life is no Fairytale is worth the purchase. Let me tell you why Life is no Fairytale is worth your six dollars. I’m not going to point out the fact that you have the Twilight saga sitting on your bookshelves, which ran you about fifty dollars. I’m not going to point out the fact that you have Fifty Shades of Grey on your eReader, or that Zane is secretly your favorite author. I’m not going to point out any of these embarrassing facts. What I will point out, though, is that these books were written by women (and I’m not sure if a woman wrote Fifty Shades, but it’s a safe bet). Women own the romance market, and rightfully so, it’s a dreadfully boring genre. Now hold on! No need for you ladies to get all uptight. We all know that romance novels are full of talk, talk, blabbity talk, that eventually leads to a quick romp in the stable, or behind some bush, or on the deck of some boat. That’s the only reason people read romance novels anyway; in hopes of reaching the part where the wind blows through the crack of some woman’s naked arse while they make love to a stranger. My novel has none of that, and you want to know why? Well, first, my novel is suitable for both the mature and young crowd. Second, my novel was written by me, a man, and romance appears to be different for men than it is women. While sex is so abundant for women–so much so that they can stumble across it in a stank barn–it tends to be elusive for most men. Even married men who have a marriage license that guarantees them action rarely see any. If you’re looking for reading material that has a terrible plot, and lots of sex, you might want to try picking up a playboy.

You’re probably asking yourself, “What does his novel offer if there’s no sex involved?” Well, I’m glad you asked, you undercover pervert. My novel offers a tale of romance from a man’s point of view. It contains love, heartache, and humor to keep things from getting too mushy and boring. My character, Carmichael Lee Jones, will snare your attention in the beginning as he awaits his beautiful bride, Jocelyn. He takes you on a journey, back to when he first met Jocelyn in middle school. Carmichael talks about how the two of them were torn apart by circumstances, and blessed to be reunited in highschool, only to be broken up again by heartache. Through a series of unforseen events, Carmichael and Jocelyn come together once more as adults despite unfavorable circumstances. And as Carmichael recalls the passage he and Jocelyn took, the wedding is steadily progressing around him. The book is called Life is no Fairytale because in real life, true love is rarely a quick and easy thing to obtain, and it never seems to work out like you imagine it should. Life is no Fairytale is titled that because it was inspired by the Grimm Brothers’ fairytale Rapunzel which is not a pretty story itself; therefore, my title is saying, even a fairytale isn’t a fairytale.

Now you’re probably saying to yourself, “Well, that sounds like a bunch of talkity-talk and it doesn’t even lead to a sex scene.” And you’re probably right, but there’s a distinct difference between my ramblings and someone else’s ramblings. Mine is interesting, and a person who reviewed my debut novel, The BoogeyMann, even made the same comment.

 …Big thumbs up for originality, this is not the story it seems to be at first glance. Starting with a humorous twist at the end of the first chapter, Bennie takes a family of seemingly ordinary people and weaves a peculiar but intriguing story that keeps you on the edge of your seat. It takes real talent to make what seems so mundane on the surface into something so interesting.

Now you know about my novel, Life is no Fairytale. I highly recommend that you check it out for yourself. At least do yourself a favor. Read something that you don’t have to hide from your children, or spouse–and I’m talking about your dirty little secret, the Twilight saga. Heck, you’ll even find yourself sharing this novel with your family because it’s a must read by all. Life is no Fairytale is now available. If you have an eReader, that’s marvelous. If you don’t, that’s still no excuse. eBooks are available in multiple formats so you can download them to anything. If you’re reading this blog, then you have the capability to download an eBook, and Amazon.com even offers free Kindle downloads for the PC. Check it out. Where can you go to find my latest novel? I’m glad you asked.

Desert Breeze Publishing website: http://stores.desertbreezepublishing.com/-strse-339/Life-is-No-Fairy/Detail.bok

And it’s available on amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Life-Is-Fairy-Tale-ebook/dp/B0094I00EA/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1346592310&sr=8-2&keywords=Life+is+no+Fairytale

I hope you enjoy. If you liked my novel, let me know. If it wasn’t your cup of tea, I thank your for your patronage anyhow. God bless… May the Force be with you… Peace–whatever your inclination.

–the Ravings of a Madman

(Post transferred from my website: www.bnewsome.yolasite.com. Clearing up space for another post. :-))

Every writer has two reasons for why they write. The first is for fame and success. Many will tell you that they don’t write for the first reason that I mentioned, but I assure you, no one dives into a profession with intentions of being mediocre and overlooked. The second reason a writer writes happens to be the force that drives them when fame and success appears to be out of reach. The second reason is different for each person, but without that second reason, the first can not be obtained. If I only wrote for fame and success, I would have stopped being a writer two months after making the written word my profession. I have never been denied anything I sought to obtain, but I quickly realized that being a successful writer was not going to come easy. As a matter of fact, I have come to accept the fact that my first reason for writing may not happen at all. Nevertheless, I keep writing.

So, what is that second reason that drives me? The answer is simple. The answer is my child, and/or future children.

I knew I wanted to be a writer when I was ten-years-old. However, my plan was to pick a well paying profession, then start writing when I retired from the job market. I was very levelheaded for a child — more so than I am now, it seems. I eventually became an adult and it didn’t take me long to realize that the world did not orbit around my plans. Obstacle after obstacle was thrown my way. Disappointments came. One day I was a child with ignorant optimism, and the next thing I know, I’m in my twenties. I’m still optimistic about my future, but I now know that life is no fairytale.

(Desert Breeze Publishing brings you Life is no Fairytale by Bennie L. Newsome this September).

After coming to that realization, I began to wonder what else might not go as I planned. Who could say I would even live to see an old age and retire? That was something to think about. If that part of my plans was derailed (like everything else had been), then I would never get to live my dreams. I would never become a writer.

My mind began to travel along thoughts of an early demise. That thought branched off into the area of kids. What if I had kids and died prematurely? No one likes to think about death (no one with their sanity intact), but who can say when the skeleton cloaked in black will come for them. So I asked myself: If I had children, then died before I could teach them the things I had in mind, how would their life be affected?

Well, that did it. I decided not to wait for an old age that was not promised. I became a writer while I was still able. My chosen audience became young adults, middle grade, and children for one simple reason. If I was to have children and tragedy struck for one reason or another, I wanted to leave them something that could benefit them in my absence. They could learn from the tales I left behind.

I wrote my first young adult novel more than a year before my first born came into this world. The main character was named after him. Since then, I have written more young adult novels, middle grade novellas, and children stories. I would love to become a famous and successful writer, but the reason I must be published is for Benjamin and the little girls that I hope are to follow. My most important audience is my child(ren). If I was to die tomorrow, my five-month-old child would at least be left with the beginnings of his own library — a book collection that I wrote myself. Through my writings, Benjamin would be able to see that his father was funny, a bit insane, and that I loved him very much.

Then there is the possibility that I will live to see a ripe old age. If that happens, and I pray that it does, then I hope that my efforts would have blazed a path for my children to tread. By my example, my children will know that they don’t have to settle for the first menial job that comes their way. I want my children to do what they love. I want my children to follow their dreams. And in order for that to happen, I must first break the mold.

I started this by telling you the first reason I write. Now you know the second. Now you understand the force that drives me.

A blogger friend of mine, MsKatykins, asked how my son Benjamin was doing. Because no one wants to receive a response that’s the length of an essay, a respectful answer would be, “He’s fine. Just as active as ever. Thanks for asking!” That’s the proper way to answer such a question; however, I decided to blog my response because I’m not typical. I’m a writer who just so happens to have a kid, and that kid provides me with a lot of writing material. The child is a gold mine, or at least, he was a gold mine when he was younger. 

For those of you who have not been keeping count, Benjamin is six months now (he’ll be seven in a week). And during these last couple of months, the relationship my son and I have has matured. You’re probably saying to yourself that that’s good news, and I agree with you, but it doesn’t really leave me with a lot to rave about nowadays. You remember the ravings, don’t you? Well, most of you do. And for those of you who are new to The Ravings of a Madman, let me catch you up real quick. A few months ago, when Benjamin and I were getting to know each other, we were known to have our share of spats. After our falling outs, I would come here and blog about the arguments I (a grown man) had with an infant. 

And don’t get your dandruff up, no need to call child services. Our fights never ended in fisticuffs. We just got loud with one another. 

So, three months ago, Shardae went back to work leaving me and Benjamin to ourselves. It was rough going at first, and I will admit that I was terrified. I mean, who could I hand the baby off to when a problem arose — such as him crying for no particular reason. Well, I was forced to learn my baby and now there’s not a problem I can’t handle. As a matter of fact, I’m better with him than his mother (which I throw in her face on a regular basis), but that doesn’t stop him from favoring her more. For instance, he said his first word a couple of weeks ago, and it turned out to be “Momma.” Not “Dada”, who he looks to when he’s hungry, or needs a diaper change. His first word was “Momma.” That’s fine, though. I was just happy to hear him speak. Now, back to the point I was trying to make. Benjamin and I are in sync, so we don’t fight as much, which results in me blogging about him less (more like none). I mean, who wants to read me gushing about, “My baby just said his first word, y’all!” and, “My baby is rolling over!” or “My baby is eating solid foods now!” Yeah, it’s exciting for me and his mother, but you could care less, I’m sure. 

Now, don’t get me wrong. Although Benjamin and I are on better terms now, we still have our share of arguments. Just the other day, I had fallen asleep on the living room floor (and I can’t recall why I was on the floor in the first place). I couldn’t sleep peacefully because it was uncomfortable, so I decided to retire to my room and nap in the bed. Well, Benjamin and Shardae was in the bedroom. Benjamin was playing on the bed, and Shardae was doing whatever she does on the computer. I flopped down on Shardae’s side of the bed — because Benjamin was on my side — and I tried to go to sleep. Notice the emphasis on “tried.” As soon as I closed my eyes, Benjamin started screaming, probably fussing at me to get out of the bed. When I refused to leave, he started hitting me and kicking me, while keeping up his hollering. 

“Hey, boy!” I said. “You have your own room, and your own bed. If you have a problem with sharing my bed with me, then you know where you can go.” 

And with that said, I dozed off — intermittently, of course. The boy kept kicking, clawing, and screaming. His mother eventually carried him into his room, and the dispute ended with Benjamin and I napping for quite some time — separately. So, Benjamin and I still have disagreements on a daily basis, but nothing blog worthy. 

MsKatykins, you probably didn’t want a response that’s the length of an essay, so to make a long blog post short, “Benjamin’s fine. Just as active as ever. Thanks for asking!” 😉

I turn 26-years-old tomorrow. Yep. July 16th is my birthday and has been every since I was born…26 years ago. Well, May December Publications and I thought it was a good idea to do a free ebook giveaway in celebration of me turning 26. So let me sum things up for you. This ebook giveaway is my birthday celebration and your party favor is…well, your party favor is the free ebook. Won’t you celebrate with me? Bottom lip poked out, eyes wide, “Won’t you pretty please celebrate with me?” Go to the following link and get your party favor: http://www.amazon.com/The-BoogeyMann-ebook/dp/B007SC793O/ref=tmm_kin_title_0?ie=UTF8&m=AG56TWVU5XWC2&qid=1342285364&sr=1-1 If you don’t want to read the book, just go on over, click the like button, and download it anyway. Don’t have an ereader? Amazon gives you a free Kindle app for your computer. I mean,  can we make this giveaway any easier? Well, that’s enough of that. Let this shameless plug lead me into today’s blog: A Spirit of Fear.

The Holy Bible states that God did not give us a spirit of fear. WAIT! Don’t you go running off! I’m not about to preach to you. I’m just making a biblical reference. Better now? Go on, catch your breath. Alright, let’s resume.

So the Bible states that God did not give us a spirit of fear. But I observe my five-month-old son and wonder where does fear come from if God did not implant us with it. How does Benjamin know what to be afraid of when he hasn’t learned what to fear?

Truth time. I roared at my son. It was a couple of months ago, and it wasn’t a malicious roar. You know the kind where you place your hands above your head, make finger claws, put on a crazy looking face, and, “WRRRRAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGH!” What do you expect? I’m the author of The BoogeyMann. Anyway, Benjamin became visibly startled, then his face scrunched up, and he began to cry. Of course his mother scolded me for that, and I’m like, “What?! How was I suppose to know he knew to be afraid?” I mean, really! How does a three-month-old baby know that this is frightening?

That wasn’t the only time I noticed that we, as humans, are born with a sense of fear. My child and I were walking through the hallway of our apartment. It was dark. I held the bouncer he sat in so his face was turned toward me. Just to make conversation, I said, “Hey, buddy. What’s going on?” Well, once again, he became startled, then his face scrunched up and he began to cry. “What’s the matter?” I asked as I hurried to get him into the light of the kitchen so he could see my face. “It’s just me. It’s Daddy. Not a monster.” It took a few seconds, but he eventually calmed down. There were a couple more instances of me roaring (because I like to roar at little babies, apparently). One time I was sitting right in front of him. He was staring at me. Eventually I tired of the awkward silence and said, “Hey.” The child visibly flinched, then cried. I’m like, “What the hell?”

“He didn’t expect you to say anything,” his mother said.

Whatever.

Because of these instances, I believe that we were born with a certain amount of fear. How would a baby know to fear the dark and monsters when he has not even seen Friday 13th or A Nightmare on Elm Street? He doesn’t know what a monster is. Benjamin does not know what could possibly lurk in the darkness, and yet he already knows to fear these things. It’s crazy.

My initial theory was that we were given the spirit of fear. However, that time when Benjamin was staring at me and he became startled when I spoke brought another possibility to mind. In the animal kingdom (which we humans are a part of), mammals get their instincts from nursing on their mother. They learn their enemies from information passed on through the milk. They learn what to fear. When I saw my baby become startled, even though he had been staring at me the whole time, I realized that he could have gotten that scary side from his mother. She is (and don’t tell her I told you this) as scary as they come. I have gotten to the point where I have to say, “I’m about to touch you now.” I warn her that I’m going to touch her, I touch her, then she flinches. “I just told you I was going to touch you!” I say. Then she says something about her nerves being bad, or my hand was cold. Whatever. When I go through the apartment, I sometimes call out, “I’m coming to such-and-such,” or “I’m walking behind you. Don’t be alarmed.” There have been times when I would say, “I’m coming up behind you,” then I approach her from the side and she still becomes startled. She is just easily frightened. She won’t even let me have scary movies in the house, and I love scary movies. Probably why she doesn’t even read my writings which are suitable for children. Adventure Time on Cartoon Network freaks her out. Then again, Courage the Cowardly Dog gives me the willies sometimes.

Back to the point I was trying to make. Baby mammals get their instincts and fears from nursing. Benjamin breastfed for a time. If he got his fears from his mother, then that would be everything under the sun. Man! I sure hope it’s not inherited fear. A spirit of fear can be tamed. Inherited fear is for life. And I like to jump out of shadows, and from around corners, and roar. What am I ever to do with a scary child?

When it comes to shopping, I waste little time. I get in a store and I’m out in a matter of minutes. I don’t look around at stuff because I know what I went in to buy; I rarely stray from my list because I’m probably on a limited budget. When it comes to exploring my options, my only thought is, “Which one is the cheapest?” I find it and then I’m gone. I can go inside Wal-Mart and do my grocery shopping in fifteen minutes max, because there are only five food groups–beef, chicken, pork, cooking grease, and sides. When I went to buy my first car, I went over to a car because it was black (one of my favorite colors) and said, “This is the one.” The person I went with said, “It’s a stick shift….” so I walked over to the car next to it and because it was white (my other favorite color) I said, “Well, this one then.” I was driving off the lot within thirty minutes–no car fox inquiring about a carfax–and let me tell you something: that car lasted me for some years…that is, until TitleMax got it’s grubby little hands on it. Oh, well. My first apartment, didn’t see what it looked like until the day I moved in. “Oh, this is nice!” I said as I carried my stuff into the place. When it comes to shopping, no matter what it is, I don’t waste time with indecision.

Then there’s my girlfriend….

I love going out and about with my girlfriend, but when it comes to shopping we are the exact opposites and it drives me mad. We go to Wal-Mart and grocery shop for about an hour when she’s at the helm. Why?! We get the exact same thing every time we go, so why are we in there so long? There are only five food groups! She walks around and discusses every item she wants to buy, then she looks around for something different. And we still walk out of there with the same stuff we buy every other week. Once she decides that we’re done, we go to the front of the store. “What line should we get in?” she asks. I reply, “It doesn’t matter! They’re all long (because it’s Wal-Mart) so just get in one before they get longer!” I don’t mean to get testy, but I hate being in Wal-Mart too long. There’s always a bunch of people milling about, not to mention, you got guys who can’t keep their eyes on their shopping or their own woman. So I’m walking around there claustrophobic and ready to fight the next guy who has the lingering eye.

And don’t get me started on clothing and shoe shopping. She walks around the store for the longest, debating on what she should get. I’m like, “What’s your favorite color? Get something in that color and let’s go!” Oh! And online shopping is the worst. “Come look at this,” she says. I walk over, “Oh that’s nice,” I say, then one minute later she’s saying, “Come look at this.” I let out a frustrated sigh, walk over to see what she’s talking about, then say, “That’s similar to the one you just showed me.” “No it’s not,” she replies, then she goes on to tell me why it’s different. And I’m like, Whatever man, leave me alone, but I never say that because I’m not an idiot. So I say, “Oh, that’s nice.” Then one minute later, she asks me to come and look at something else and I ask, “Are you gonna buy anything from there?” She replies, “No, but I can look.” And I comeback with, “If you’re not gonna buy anything then you don’t need my opinion.”

Here’s my last gripe and I’m finished, I promise. When we go to a fast-food place, she has to look at the menu before she makes up her mind. “If you needed a moment, we should’ve went inside,” I tell her. “I don’t like going inside,” she tells me while looking at the menu intently. I sigh and reply, “Well, the drive thru is for people who know what they want.” We go to these places all the time, she should know what she wants. I get the same thing no matter where I go so I don’t need to think when I pull up in the drive thru. It’s a number three with no onions at McDonalds, a number eleven with no sauce at Burger King, tender strips at KFC, chicken sandwich (no mayo) at Krystal’s, a number four–double–with no mayo at Wendy’s…we’ve been doing this for years, she should have it memorized like I do.

Sigh. When it comes to shopping, I waste little time. Then there’s my girlfriend….

Here’s a little something different to shake things up a bit.