This is why people have children.

Even bad pictures of babies turn out okay:

EM and HankThey can be screaming bloody murder due to one grain of sand touching them and it’s still a cute picture.

However, when you have dogs you are at the mercy of their bad moods.

IMG_7402We’ve all seen the pictures on Pinterest of the sweet cherubic looking baby laying on a bed all smiles with the Christmas lights sparkling in the background. I’m headed home for Christmas and am going to attempt the same picture with the niece and nephew but figured it would be best to practice before I got there. Toddlers with short attention spans usually do not want to sit around as you try to figure out settings and all that.

So I went up in the attic, which is smelling strongly of cat piss for some reason that I’m not too anxious to discover, to find a string of lights, and pulled a sheet from the closet. Got all that set up, got out the camera and set about trying to figure it out.


Obviously, needs some work. Little did I know that would be the only time Ginger would even somewhat cooperate.

IMG_7172So depth of field is better, focus is not, and shit what are they all doing laying down? Little did I know I would not be able to get Ginger to sit up again and Ninja only a few times.

Well what if I just did Ginger alone?


I laughed and told her that she looked like she was posing for a Glamour Shots. Apparently she understood that and was offended so she laid right back down. In a huff.

IMG_7247She wasn’t the only one who was unhappy with the proceedings. Ninja spent the entire time looking as if someone was kicking her puppy.




Bronco wasn’t forlorn but he wasn’t exactly riveted by the idea either.


IMG_7270The group shots were just a fail in general.

IMG_7390 IMG_7405

I got one, ONE! picture that was even halfway decent and of course it wasn’t all three. Oh well. Someday, who knows when, but someday I will be successful.
It just wasn’t today.


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Dear Strip Club Advertisers;

As I was driving down I-75 (again, I spend a lot of time there) I noticed one of your many billboards. Usually they don’t grab my attention because once you’ve seen one pole dancing silhouette, you’ve seen them all but this one attract my eye.

I’m glad it did because I’ve not had an occasion to write a letter to strip club advertisers before but now I feel compelled. Why? you might ask. Well it is simple. See this particular billboard had the following copy.


Ummmm….. yes. Yes, you need to say more. Actually I think it is imperative that you say more. I can’t imagine a single person reads that and doesn’t believe you need to say more.

Who exactly was on Jerry Springer? Was it one stripper? Was it all the strippers? Did Jerry Springer do a live show from your location? Did it involve a boyfriend who was cheating on his girlfriend with her mom and now mom is pregnant with his cousin’s baby? Was there a goat involved? Barn animal of any sort? This is south Georgia so I mean I wouldn’t really be all that surprised.

I need answers damnit! I’m fairly certain that I’m not the only person to ass by your sign and wonder these same things. I feel you owe it to your potential cutomers (haha I am so not a potential customer) to provide the information we seek.

If you so desire you can do just that in the comments section so the world can put their minds at ease.

Thank you,
Curious but repulsed at the same time

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Article: Robyn VS. The Doors – Dancers on the Storm

Robyn VS. The Doors – Dancers On The Storm – Free Download – – We ♡ Music Yea this is fun. Still waiting for Robyn to swing by Atlanta. I’d be there with bells on.

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New Boardwalk Empire review…
Do not fear, I will someday return to actually write something here as well. It’s been craziness around here.

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Boardwalk Empire and Elementary reviews

Over on Grizzly Bomb- you know you want to go look.

Not only that but I’ve also found my way onto a Round Table for Elementary over on TV Fanatic. Good times.


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It’s Monday (well Tuesday)

and that means another Boardwalk Empire review up on Grizzlybomb!


And for all you playing along at home, I was unable to make it until 3am for the Mists of Pandaria launch last night, fell asleep about 1:30.
I am so ashamed.

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Oh yea, this is happening.

It’s 11:22 pm and I am currently watching the “pre-show” before the actual show for the launch of World of Warcraft’s new expansion, Mists of Pandaria.

I mean seriously, I don’t think it gets much nerdier.

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A deal at twice the price!

Parker Posey is one of my favorite actresses.

Her performance in A Mighty Wind is one I can watch over and over and over.
You might ask yourself, who ever watched that show Return of Jezebel James? It was me, I watched Return of Jezebel James.

I will watch anything she does.

She’s put together a video for the Emmy’s and in typical Parker Posey fashion, it is hilarious and in my own fashion, I’ve watched it a couple of times already.


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It’s SNL review time!

Went to Memphis this weekend. Had a great time. Went out on Friday night and was still feeling the effects of the worst hangover in the history of the universe on Sunday night.

While I was trying to keep the Reaper at bay- I wrote this review of this week’s Saturday Night Live premiere.

Check it out.

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The ironbunny takes another step in her path to world wide domination by writing for Grizzlybomb.
She will now stop talking in 3rd person because frankly, that’s just creepy.

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Good to remember most days

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Did that catch your attention?
Well hang on to your ass, Fred for it’s time for pictures from Israel.

If you didn’t know, my sister and her family moved to Tel Aviv right after Easter. Mrbunny and I wasted no time in going to visit them and it was by far one of the coolest trips I’ve ever taken.

We hit the ground running, making our way down to the beach the evening we arrived.

I loved the little sailboat in their town crest or whatever it is.

There was a huge concert at the beach after some road race that afternoon.

Slept like the dead that night and the next day we hit up the grocery store (after a huge falafel with more hummus than you can shake a stick at)

and I stuck my nephew in a basket.

And the beach
Niece and I planning our takeover of the universe

while nephew played in the sand with Uncle Mrbunny


The next day was a bit of a blur. I started off sort of okay but was feeling a bit off. So we stopped at the drug store and a little convenience store where I picked up ginger ale, coke, tums, and sprite. Got in the car and my sister commented “throwing everything you’ve got at it huh?”

Alas it was to no avail because I ended up puking in the parking lot of Appolonia National Park.
No one can accuse me of being a quitter though, because I proceeded to hike my ass up to that fort and enjoy it as much as I could in the oppressive heat.

Yikes, looking a little rough.
This place was really cool though.


I should have taken a picture of my sister’s guest room because that is where I spent the rest of the day, sleeping.

But with a new day came a renewed feeling of “I can tackle the world” and we were off to Cesaera. This place was just amazing. It was a mix of restaurants, art galleries, and ancient ruins. You know, the normal kind of thing.



I was struck by this good example of old versus new.


Nephew enjoyed it.Niece had a good time walking through the thousands year old buildings (what is left of them obviously)


There was a hippodrome for all your Ben Hur needs.

A random wave I stood for quite awhile to get a good picture of.

And of course, apple pie. Or pai. Close enough.

The next day Mrbunny and I jumped on a bus for two days at the Dead Sea and Jerusalem, but those pictures will have to wait because this is already a huge post and I’m tired of uploading pictures!

I’ll leave you with this shot of boys playing in the Jewish Quarter of Old City, Jerusalem.


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The one in which I kill my husband

If you didn’t know, mrbunny works from home. 
I (obviously) also work/write from home.

For a long time, I used the back bedroom as an office while mrbunny sat at the dining room table.

We’ve gone and sold the dining room table so he’s been using a little folding table in front of the tv in the den. Tiring of that, he set up a table in the empty formal living room.

Yesterday as I was going to set the table back up in my office (we’d been using it for garage sales at a friend’s house) he says “hey why don’t you set up in the living room with me? We can work side by side. I can have a suitemate of my sweet mate.”
No really, he did say that.

I said yes, picturing how we could get a big squishy comfy couch in that back bedroom and have a dark room in which to properly watch movies. Some people dream of large closets or bathrooms, not I; I want a home theatre so badly I can taste it. It tastes like fountain Dr. Pepper and movie theatre popcorn, in case you were wondering.

It has been less than 24 hours and already I want to kill him.
Or at the very least, maim him.

We started off fine. Working in peace, side by side. The very picture of marital harmony.

Twenty minutes later, the printer, located on my table, starts going.

The paper ejected from that printer simply says “Bite Me”.

He is nothing if not eloquent.

The rest of the evening was uneventful, nonproductive on my end, but uneventful nonetheless.

Wake up this morning, take the dogs out, fix a cup of coffee, head to my computer.
It should be noted that when I was setting up my desk I told mrbunny, “now the first time you point out that I’m “slacking” because I’m staring at the wall or the computer screen, or dancing in my chair, or playing a game… I will punch you in the nuts because that’s not slacking, that’s more likely me trying to work out a problem in my story and getting my mind off of it works best.”  He nodded, whether out of agreement or fear for the family jewels, I don’t know nor care.

Back to this morning, sit down and the first thing my lovely husband does is look at his watch and point out that I’m late, accompanied with the biggest shit eating grin you’ve ever seen.
I know he is a smart man but there are times where I do wonder.

He is wisely quiet for a good while until the UPS man comes.

Mrbunny has a problem with buying the most random and useless crap. And he usually buys it after much studying and research. 
Today’s package was no different.

It was speakers and a subwoofer. For his ipod. For when he sits at his computer. 

I have headphones on and all of a sudden I feel the floor as it shaking to the soulful sounds of Digital Underground and the Humpty Dance.
Eloquent and impeccable taste in music.

My “shut it off or die” look didn’t take hold until after the entire neighborhood and I were treated to a very loud sampling of “Rhythm is a Dancer”.
Like I said, impeccable taste in music.

Thankfully he did turn off the music after he assured me that we would both love it. 
Jury is still out.

Day goes on, quite uneventfully. Mechanic place calls and says our Jeep is ready to be picked up. So we head out.
On our drive home, mrbunny tells me he has the perfect idea.
He says, “You should name your book Hobbit Pussy. People will buy it just out of curiosity.”

If I’m not in jail in the next few days, look for Hobbit Pussy in bookstores near you, winter of 2013.

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A poem

By, me.

There is a duck outside my window.
He stands at attention,
and quacks in loud alarm.

I do not know for what he quacks;
perhaps it is to charm.

All I do know that if he continues
his noise producing ways,
I will be powerless against the urge
to cause him horrible pain. 

So to you dear offensive window dwelling duck,
I offer this plea;
Cease your obnoxious clatter, 
Or I will be forced to fuck your shit up.

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LA Screenwriter

Joss Whedon is one of my screenwriting idols. The creative mastermind behind such cult classics as Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Firefly, Whedon has also written and/or directed such hits as The Avengers, Cabin in the Woods, Toy Story and Serenity.

Several years ago Joss listed his top ten writing tips:

Actually finishing it is what I’m gonna put in as step one. You may laugh at this, but it’s true. I have so many friends who have written two-thirds of a screenplay, and then re-written it for about three years. Finishing a screenplay is first of all truly difficult, and secondly really liberating. Even if it’s not perfect, even if you know you’re gonna have to go back into it, type to the end. You have to have a little closure.

Structure means knowing where you’re going; making sure you don’t meander…

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This was a good way to spend an hour.

So...where to begin?

Love these.

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Puppy break!

Being contest deadline time, and working on numerous other projects, and preparing for a trip to Israel… this place hasn’t seen much love.

Best remedy for that?

More pictures of my dogs, of course.

First up, we have the G-Dog.


Then the Broncinator.


Last, but not least, Ninjaraji.

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Elderly smackdown in the produce aisle

If you were to force me to pick only one thing I love about the south, it would have to be our fierce loyalty to SEC football teams.

Today was a perfect example of that ferocity. 

I’m walking around Publix (something else I would put on a very short list of my favorite things about this here god’s country- “but a grocery store on your favorite things list? How preposterous!” you might say. And I’d say you are wrong because Publix is one of the best grocery stores in the entire world so shove it.), wearing as I often do, an Alabama tshirt.

As I crossed the threshold of the produce department, an older woman turns to me and says “Roll Tide.”
Because my mother raised me with manners, and some of them stuck, I of course replied with a “Roll Tide” of my own. 
This took place around the cut fruit section. A woman, of an advanced age herself, standing near the apples hears our exchange and within seconds bounds over to us with an energy that belies her years.

“WAR EAGLE”, she exclaimed in a very loud and boisterous manner. “WAR DAMN EAGLE!”

Of course not to be outdone, the original, and frankly, more beautiful and just overall more delightful woman, raises her voice with a hearty “ROLL TIDE ROLL!!!”

It was then things got a little weird. Here’s the deal- little old southern ladies, they stereotypically have this air about them. That they are just about as proper as can be, not a hair out of place, not an single stray pineapple chunk in their jello mold. So when you see one of those tiny little old southern women gather up all her might and bellow out “ROUND THE BOWL AND DOWN THE HOLE- ROLL TIDE ROLL” it’s a little shocking. Shocking to the point that neither the well dressed, well composed, pulchritudinous woman nor I could formulate a response to her beyond, “We’ve won more championships you know so stick that in the bowl and smoke it.”

And with that statement, the older Alabama fan walked away, ready to thump some watermelons.

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Dear Mitt Romney;

For the love of god sir, I do not want to go to dinner with you!

I won’t want to go if you ask.

I won’t want to go if your wife asks.

I won’t want to go no matter who asks.

I don’t want to be your “plus one”.

I don’t want to be your wife’s “plus one”.

I don’t want to “grab a bite” with you.

I don’t want to “grab a bite” with your wife.

I’m hoping you are sensing a theme here.

You, me, food…. not happening.

So for the love of all that is holy, stop fucking emailing me.


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That is all.

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