I AM NOT A “sexy porn gerl” and other Twitter Mishaps

It started with the Berlin Brothel.  Lord knows why a brothel in Berlin decided to follow me on Twitter.  I don’t live in Berlin.  I’ve never worked in a brothel.  Don’t think I’ve even typed the word ‘brothel’ before now.  I certainly haven’t said it out loud.

Then some wag from Crime Writers of Canada said: “Maybe they’ve read Rowena Through the Wall.  That’s it!  The girls who work there have to do something in their downtime.”

Let me do a cyberspace blush here.  Okay, my book is a little hot.  “Hot and hilarious” as one reviewer put it.  But it’s not x-rated.  It’s not even R, according to my daughter.  (Husband has yet to read it.  We’ve hidden it well.)

But back to Berlin.  I didn’t follow them back.

Somehow, that didn’t matter.  The word was out.

‘Amateurvids’ announced they were following me.  Good, I thought.  I like nature films.  Take it from me, this outfit doesn’t film bunnies in the wild.  Well, maybe a certain type of wild bunny.

I didn’t follow them back.

Next, I got “Swingersconnect” following me.  Swingers?  I get sick on a tire hanging from a tree!

I didn’t follow them back.

Then two days ago, an outfit specializing in ‘male penis enhancement’ turned up.  Now, I ask you.  Do I look like a male in my profile photo?  Is Melodie a male name?  And not to be pedantic, but isn’t ‘male’ in front of the p-word a bit redundant?  Is there any other kind?

Which brings me to the tweet in my twitter-box today:  “Hey sexy porn gerl!” (yes, that’s girl with an e).  Let me state categorically that I am not now and have never been a “sexy porn gerl” (with an ‘e’ or any other vowel).

You wouldn’t want me to be.  No one would.  For one thing, I can’t see two feet in front of me without glasses.  Things that used to be perky now swing south. And my back hurts if I bend over to pick up a grape. 

So I’m not following them back.

Finalist for the Arthur Ellis Awards!

I got lucky.  The story that finaled for the Derringer Awards is also a finalist for the 2012 Arthur Ellis Awards!

Here are the Arthur Ellis finalists for all categories:


CBC

or

http://www.quillandquire.com/blog/

The Arthur Ellis Awards will be held on May 31 at the Toronto Hilton, immediately before the Bloody Words Conference.

MALE MENOPAUSE FOR AMATEURS (reprinted with permission)

What is it about men when they approach forty?  It’s like some kind of communal revelation.  Moses comes down from the mountain with an Etch-a-Sketch and all forty-something men the world over suddenly realize “Holy Smoke! I never got that electric slot car set when I was eight and time is running out…”

There are several ways to tell when a guy is getting to that age.  For one thing he no longer fast forwards through the hair replacement commercials.

Another sign is the basement. Our basement used to be a general clearing house for gargantuan ‘projects’.  You know…things like those partially completed but never installed shelves for the office.  Now our basement is a storage area for the local toy store.

Somehow, my guy has managed to get through 39 years without the need for toy airplanes – until last month.  Now he can’t manage without two.  In fact, he couldn’t make up his mind which one to buy (another sign of getting older: INDECISION) so he bought both. One is a common balsa wood wind-up thingy, of the boy scout variety.  The second is a blue and white foam bird that has a disturbing tendency to hit the ground nose first shortly after launching.  But it has a high ‘cuteness’ factor.

Another sign is the remote control cars.  Apparently it’s not enough to have real cars when you’re grown up.  You also require miniature battery powered jobbies which disappear down sewer grates.  We have three.  (We had four before the previously mentioned ‘unfortunate incident.’) And I’m buying stock in EverReady.

But the dead give-away was the classic male menopause statement uttered in front of the television this week: “I want to buy a Harley.”  Not just any old Honda, mind you, but a HARLEY.  This, coming from a man who has never had the slighted interest in anything with only two wheels, because “It doesn’t have 550 horse power and ten thousand foot pounds of torque.  Also, we might get wet.” 

The final sign of male menopause is that victims tend to be forgetful.  In fact, you may even find that your guy forgets your wedding anniversary.

This is okay as long as he doesn’t forget he’s married.

ROWENA THROUGH THE WALL *free* today on Amazon!

Like comic time travel?  Here is the latest review blurb:

"A cross between Diana Gabaldon and Janet Evanovich - hilarious!"

Pick up Rowena (2nd edition with an additional 40 pages) FREE

Here's the link: 

http://tinyurl.com/6p2vhgr

IT'S BAD FOR YOU! (Riding the Satire Trail again...)

I'm back in the saddle!  Actually, I left the saddle back in Utah, but am riding the satire trail again...

Lately, I’ve been reading a lot about things that are harmful to our health.  By this I don’t mean activities like bungee-jumping or selling nuclear bombs to third world countries.  No, I mean ‘new-wave’ hazards – the really dangerous stuff like hair dyes and sunshine.

Almost any day now, I expect to read the following story in newspapers: “Laboratory scientists have conclusively proven that everything is hazardous to your health.  In fact, the healthier you are, the more hazardous everything is.  And if you happen to be a laboratory rat, things are TERRIBLY hazardous, indeed.

No doubt about it, our lab rats are failing a lot of tests these days, and personally, I think we may be looking at this the wrong way around.  Maybe things really aren’t so hazardous.  Maybe the problem is we have a bunch of weaklings for rats. 

What can you expect though?  They get free food and lodging, and never have to work for a living.  No alley cats to trim their little rat-tails.  Talk about stress-free. I can see them now, in their plush air-conditioned cages, sipping pinot, nibbling on Camembert, watching cable…”Ho hum, think I might take a little spin on the wheel today…or maybe not – TOO exhausting.  What about you, Rodney?”

No matter how you slice is, this is NOT the typical lifestyle of your average homo sapien!  And frankly, I’m not ready to throw in the towel because a  few wimpy laboratory rats can’t handle the rough and tumble of everyday life.

These rodents need a little toughening up!  Get them out of their posh surroundings and back into the real world.  Turn them loose in downtown Toronto without a credit card!  Make them drive the 401 in rush hour.  Breathe that Hamilton smog!  Live on caffeine and fast food like the rest of us.  Go grocery shopping with a limited budget and two kids on a SATURDAY.  That will get them in shape in a hurry.

Three months on the Go-train and subway in rush hour and those rats would positively LAUGH at Clairol Light Ash Brown, and ultraviolet rays would simply slide off their hardy little bodies!

It’ll never happen though.  We pamper them with booze, cigarettes, luxurious surroundings, free meals and all kinds of perks… Then again, we do it for our politicians, so why not our rats?