Lessons from the Venture Bros.

Don't fuck with David Bowie!!

I am the Reverend Mother!

Yup, I am a nerd.

I think I should start claiming to be a "wild" Bene Gesserit.  I am apparently able to use the Voice to bend even the most difficult dealers (and dogs) to my will.  Here is a simulated exchange between a tech, a particularly crabby dealer, and me:

Tech: No, the software can't do that.  But I can put in an enhancement request so it can be considered in the future.

Dealer: This is inexcusable!  You need to wave a magic wand and make this incredibly useless feature that no one but me will ever use, and which will explode the size of our database, come straight out of my ass right now! (As a side note, I'd really like to make him say "INCONCEIVABLE!" too.)

Me (when he calls back later, thinking maybe he'll somehow get a different answer): No, the software can't do that.  But I'll put in an enhancement request so it can be considered in the future.

Dealer: Ok, great, thanks!  You're always so helpful.  And now that I know you're still taking phone calls, I'm going to ask for you every single time I call (which is often), no matter how trivial the question, even though you've told me you've actually moved into a different position and don't take support calls often.  Bye!

WTF?!

And as for dogs, the best example is a 125-lb. Rottweiler my uncle used to have (D).  He was an incredibly sweet dog, but he was also incredibly stupid.  Any training he got stayed in his teeny little pea brain for approximately 4.2 seconds, and then was gone.  Not to mention the fact that despite his weight, he didn't look it-long legs, long body, etc.  Except maybe his big ol' shovel head.  Pretty sure that's where most of the weight came from.  Anyway, he was big, but he literally thought he was the size of a teacup Chihuahua.  We had an end table that was maybe 2 ft. tall x 1 ft. wide, and he would try to hide under it-and then look bewildered when he couldn't fit.  I kinda think maybe he was a little retarded, even (not in a bad way, mind you).  And he was so friendly, he'd just go bonkers when people were around.  So one year, the whole family-my parents, my brother, 2 uncles, an aunt, my grandma, and 4 cousins-were at the other uncle's house for Xmas.  One of the cousins was only about 4 at the time, and he was all excited, and he'd been playing with D, plus with all the people around, D was just beside himself with rambunctious joy.  The uncle whose house it was also had a dog, which excited poor, stupid D even more (I expect that the only thing going through his head was PLAY PLAY PLAY PLAY PLAY PLAY!!!).  So my 3 older cousins (who were probably 19, 15, and 13, but were each well over 6' tall, and the 2 younger boys were/are football players) were ALL trying to hold him by the collar to keep him out of the way, and having a difficult time.  But when I walked in the friggin' door and told D to sit, his ass immediately hit the wood floor and he STAYED there (I should also mention this dog NEVER got a grasp on the concept of stay).  The boys were even able to let go of him, get dinner, and he didn't move! Honestly, I would've liked to get a picture of the look on everyone's faces, because they were just all in shock.

Of course, this doesn't work at all on who/what I actually need it to.  Like, uh, the cats.

I could carve a better father out of a mango!

And now I can Google that phrase and have something come up.  Too bad I can't find any clips of it (Sealab 2021, kiddos).  Damn, and here I thought you could find ANYthing on YouTube...

Lila & Nick - Sneak Peek!

“Ready?” Marian asked, standing next to the door.

Lila glanced around at all the ridiculous black-lights that had replaced the spotlights over her paintings and sighed.  “Ready as I ever will be,” she replied.  She hated shows-she could never understand why her studio had to be transformed in order for her work to be appreciated.

Lila watched another group walk into the gallery.  Most of them were the usual type of patrons-rich playboys showing off for their model dates, middle-aged women desperately trying to be hipsters and beatniks, and self-proclaimed “art critics” who loved nothing better than to look down their noses at everyone else.  But there was one man mingling with the latter group that just didn’t seem to fit.  He was tall and thin, but he wore a close-fitting shirt with the sleeves rolled up that showed he was still definitely muscular.  He had dark hair pulled into a short ponytail-just long enough to show it was slightly curly.  His skin was a beautiful bronze-obviously Mediterranean-but paler than anyone she’d ever seen.  He wasn’t speaking much, and didn’t really seem to even be listening to the conversation, though he would occasionally absently nod his head as if in answer to a question.  She could only see the profile of his face, but the bone structure was perfect, reminding her of Greek and Roman statues of their gods.

“Who is that?” Lila asked Marian, motioning towards him.

Marian giggled.  “Gorgeous, isn’t he?” she sighed.  “His name’s Nikolai Romanov.  He’s Russian, I think-”

“Balkan, more likely,” Lila muttered absently.

“He’s a big art dealer in Seattle,” Marian continued, ignoring the correction.  “You’re pretty lucky to have him show up here-he rarely does shows.”

“Mm-hmm,” Lila replied, still distracted.  She just couldn’t take her eyes off of him.  Suddenly, he turned his head toward her and smiled slightly.  For a split second, their eyes met-his were dark, like his hair, but intense; she felt like they were burning into her soul.  Embarrassed, she quickly turned away.  Her face felt hot, and she was sure she was blushing-she felt ridiculous, like a teenager.  But somehow, she felt compelled to look up again, and was surprised to see him walking toward her.  He moved amazingly quickly, even though he didn’t seem to be rushing.

When he reached her, he held out his hand.  “You must be the artist,” he said.  His voice was low and quiet, but she had no trouble hearing him, even with the din of all the other voices in the room.  He had a strong, but not overpowering, Eastern European accent; combined with the steady rhythm of his voice, it was almost hypnotic to listen to him.  Now that he was close up, she could see his eyes were a warm chocolate brown, and his hair a darker shade of the same color.

For a moment, she just stood there, as if in a trance.  Finally, she took his hand-his grip was strong, but still gentle, and his skin was cool and soft-and he shook hers.  She could feel herself blushing again and nervously stammered “Lila...”

“Kelly,” he finished, smiling that slight, warm smile again.

Daggers in the Sands - Sneak Peek!

  Risa didn’t know how long she’d been wandering in the desert.  She knew it had been at least two days, but by now, she had lost all sense of time and direction.  Everything was blurring together.

  She had no idea how she’d gotten here-or even where ‘here’ was.  She’d had a long day at work-she’d just gotten an important promotion-then gotten into an argument with her mother over the phone, and had fallen asleep on her couch.  But when she awoke, she was greeted by only the harsh view of nothing but sand as far as she could see, instead of her comfortable living room as she’d been expecting.

  Not knowing what else to do, she’d began walking, hoping to find some sign of civilization.  All she found was more sand.

  “[Who are you?]” the older man demanded.

  “[Are you friend or enemy?]” said the other man.

  “I-I’m sorry,” Risa stammered.  She didn’t need to know the language to know she was in serious danger if she didn’t answer correctly.  “I don’t know what you’re saying!”

  “[She does not understand us,]” the woman said to her companions.  Then, switching to what sounded like a different language, she asked Risa, “[What is your name?]”

  “What?” Risa replied.

  The woman looked puzzled.  “[She does not speak the common tongue, either,]” she murmured, reverting to what Risa assumed to be her native language.  “Saya,” she said, pointing to herself.  “Janiq.”  She pointed to the younger man.  “Taqar.”  She pointed to the older man.  “[You?]”  She pointed to Risa.

  Risa pointed to herself.  “What about me?” she asked, still confused.  When the woman nodded, she realized what they were looking for.  “Oh, my name!”  She pointed to herself again and replied, “Risanna.”

  The two men recoiled in fear.  “[She is a demon!]” the older man-Taqar-cried.

  “[She does not know our language,]” Saya said, amused.  “[I do not think her name means the same in her own tongue.]”  Seeing Risa’s bewilderment, she pulled a knife from her belt and pointed to it, saying, “[Risana.]”

  Risa motioned to the knife.  “Risanna?” she repeated.  Saya nodded.  “My name means knife?!”  She shook her head, and then pointed to herself again.  “Risa.”

  Saya pointed to her and asked, “Risa?”  Risa nodded.  “[This ‘Risana’ is also called ‘Risa,’]” she said to the men.

  “[I do not like this, Saya,]” Taqar said.  “[It is a bad omen.  We should kill her; leave her water to the desert.]”

  “[You see bad omens everywhere, Taqar,]” Saya replied.  “[We will let the elders decide her fate.]”  She turned to Risa.  “[Come,]” she said, motioning to follow her.

  Risa hesitated.  She knew she couldn’t survive on her own in the desert, but without knowing their language, she couldn’t be sure she’d be safe with these people, either.  For all she knew, they could be leading her to some sort of ritual where she would be used as a human sacrifice.  Oh, what the hell, she thought.  I’m dead either way.  At least I’ll have a higher chance of survival with them.

  As she followed them, Risa was surprised at how quickly they moved.  While she struggled to keep her footing in the shifting sands, they walked as easily as if it were solid rock.  Every time she stumbled, she would earn glares from both Taqar and Janiq, but Saya simply patiently stopped and helped her up.

  “[She is slowing us down,]” Janiq grumbled.  “[We’ll never reach the caves before full sun now.]”

  “[She will not be left behind,]” Saya replied sharply.  “[Do you wish to challenge my judgment?]”

  Janiq tensed for a moment, but then his shoulders slumped in defeat.  “[No, Saya,]” he said.

  Risa of course had no idea what they had said, but determined from the exchange that Saya was the leader in this group.  She was somewhat amused by this revelation-since this seemed to be a primitive society, at least by the standards she was used to, she’d expected Taqar more likely to be in charge.

  As Janiq had expected, the sun was beating down with its full force by the time they finally came into view of a small outcropping of rock.  Risa breathed a small sigh of relief-she didn’t think she’d ever been more exhausted in her life than she was now.  Once they entered the shelter of a cave, she could immediately feel the difference in temperature, and it continued to drop as they descended farther down.

  Finally, they stopped inside a large cavern.  Risa immediately dropped to the ground and leaned her head back against the cool wall.  Saya looked at her and said, “[Janiq, give her food.  And water.]”

  “[I am not sure we have enough, Saya,]” he protested.

  “[Then give her my share,]” she snapped.

  He scowled, but did as he was told.  

Heretic - Sneak Peek!

  Heretic.  Murderer.  Every day, Izra heard them whispering it as she passed.  It was what had gotten her thrown onto this god-awful, piss-poor excuse of a planet.  She couldn’t blame them, really-after all, there at least was a reason she was here, even if it was horse shit.  And you miserable bastards all got stuck here with me, she thought.

  In the slums near Kanehani, young girls disappeared all the time-everyone accepted it as a fact of life.  Everyone knew where they were.  But no one was willing to stop it-they were all to afraid of the consequences of even admitting they knew what was happening.

  The truth was, the children were being stolen by a monster, one that hid behind his priest’s robe deep within the monastery.  The ecclesiastics protected their own, no matter how ghastly their appetite.  And no one went against the Church; to do so was suicide.

  But when Izra’s sister Priam went missing, she didn’t care what the cost was.  She was all Izra had left-their parents had perished toiling in the Fegueran mines years ago, leaving Izra alone to care for her.  And she was going to make the beast pay for his crimes.

  She’d taken a knife and managed to sneak into the priory.  It hadn’t been difficult to find the devil: sickeningly enough, she’d been able to hear Priam’s screams once she’d entered the hall near his quarters.  But by the time she broke through the door, she was too late-she was greeted by the horrific sight of the priest with his hands still clenched around the neck of Priam’s lifeless, naked body.

  Blinded with rage, Izra had flown at him with the blade, slashing every inch of flesh she possibly could before the others got to her.  When they’d reached the door, she slit the demon’s throat, slicing so deep she hit bone.  When they pulled her off of him, she was covered in blood, spewing curses at them for allowing this abomination to hunt freely.

  She’d expected to be executed for her “crime.”  But somehow, the Fates had smiled down on her, and the Premier decided to be merciful and spare her life.  Instead, he’d ordered her to be exiled to Azariah, the newly discovered planet far on the edge of the Empire.  The next day, she was on the first transport, filled with pilgrims praying for a better life on the new frontier.