When I described the opening scene of Dunham (←buy it there), Swiss said, “Post it! Oh, God, POST IT!!!!” [EDITOR’S NOTE: I darn well did. – Swiss]
July 4, 1776
Barbary Coast
Bare and bloody from forehead to waist, she held the tip of her sword tight to the neck of the man who lay on the quarterdeck between her feet, his sword-hand fingers ground under her heavy boot heel. Her long, blood-soaked braid whipped and snapped in the wind.
“This ship is mine now, Skirrow,” she snarled. “You have three choices. Adrift, keeled, or death by my hand.”
He would have swallowed, but her sword prevented that. “Adrift,” he whispered as best he could.
“Wrong choice.”
The blade of a carefully sharpened battle axe glinted and whistled as she arced it overhead and brought it down through his neck, cleanly separating his head from his shoulders.
Heedless of the blood spurting from their vessels, she dropped the axe and snatched her former captain’s head off the deck.
She whirled to see the crew—her crew now—watching with varying degrees of calculation and terror.
“I AM CAPTAIN FURY!” she roared, thrusting Skirrow’s bloody head, still with its terrified expression, skyward. “I am your captain now, by right of my victory. Any who challenge me will also be sent straight to hell.”
She dropped Skirrow’s head upon his body, then rammed her sword into the deck so hard that it sank two inches into the wood and quivered. Most of the crew gasped and stepped back.
“Dooley Smith, step forward!” she shouted.
A man of indeterminate age with a shock of carrot-colored hair stepped forward proudly and saluted. “Sir!”
She plucked a jangle of keys from the body’s belt and fired them at him. Without a blink, he caught them. “Dooley Smith. Leftenant. Second in command. Take who you trust and go free the prisoners. Bring them to me.”
A quarter hour passed in which she stood on the quarterdeck, hands on hips, unashamed of her bare breasts, surveying her holdings and crew. Many would die today, but most of those not by her hand.
Only fifteen men knew what this day would bring, and fourteen of them stood spread out, heavily armed, their backs to her, holding weapons to discourage any who might forcibly object.
A gaggle of Moors, Africans, Arabs, Jews, and Caucasians in equal numbers straggled up on deck, gaunt, nearly lifeless and, for the first time on this voyage, not bound by chains. Two men stood out: An Arab and a runaway Negro slave. Both stood proud, their backs strong for all their emaciation, and their bearing dignified.
“Solomon Ibrahim and Cambridge Bull, step forward!”
The two who knew they had the most to gain by this mutiny stepped forward with purpose. She pulled two leather-sheathed daggers out of her waistband and sent them zinging toward the men, who caught them handily.
“Seek out your enemies and do what you will,” she murmured, and studied the faces of the crew, a full quarter of which turned to shock and fear.
The Arab gave no expression to betray his feelings, but he turned on the balls of his feet and, with one graceful arc, slit the throat of the man behind him—then plowed through the assembled crew.
The Negro’s expression had turned murderous and he too pursued those who had made his life worse than a living hell down in the deep, dark holds below the cargo.
She watched as men dove overboard to escape the wrath of the two who suddenly possessed the strength of madmen. Throats were slashed and bodies dumped, the sea below them blossoming vermilion as she stood silent, watching, waiting.
The rest of the prisoners stared agog, their vengeance wrought by proxy, their expressions slowly betraying hope.
The two men ran for hatches and disappeared into the bowels of the ship from whence screams erupted only to be abruptly silenced. Bodies flopped in their mates’ arms as they were dragged from belowdecks into the sunshine and tossed overboard.
The sun marked three quarters of an hour before the reapers reappeared before her, as bloody as she, sheathing the daggers in their waistbands.
“Solomon al Ibrahim,” she intoned. “I have no sailor’s rank for you, but you will be my equal on this ship, should you choose to sail with me. Anon, we shall together address your grievance with the sultan.”
His expression still blank, he bowed his head in respect, then raised it to look her in the eye. She nodded once.
“Cambridge Bull. Second leftenant. Third in command.” He, too, bowed his respect.
“Paulo Papadakos, step forward!” The Greek had taken to the sea at ten, when his family had been run out of their ghetto and he had become simply an extra mouth to feed. “Third leftenant.”
“Bataar Khan, step forward!” A smallish Mongol looked up at her from under lowered brows. “Bo’sun. And do away with that farce of hair affixed to your chin. You are no more male than I.” The woman grinned and spun a Turkish sword over the top of her hand before touching the dull edge of the blade to her forehead.
“Enrico Espejo, step forward!” Barely out of the schoolroom, this Spaniard had proven his worth many times, and no less so today. “Master gunner.”
“Adrian Croftwood, step forward!” An English nobleman’s fifth son, who had no hope of anything in his homeland and had gone to sea seeking a fortune that had never materialized. “Carpenter.”
“Orlando Telesca, step forward!” Another nobleman’s son, Venetian, heir to nothing owing to a profligate father. “Surgeon.”
The afternoon bore on thusly as she named her crew and positions, the last a small boy who had been used as a toy for the man she had just slain. No one knew his name or his age, not even he. He had always been called Boy.
“Boy!” Her voice rang out, still true, though she could feel her throat sting. “Step forward!” He did, trembling. She placed him at no more than nine or ten years old. “Can you speak, child?”
“Yes, Sir,” he replied, immediate but timid.
“You shall henceforth be known as Christopher. Take the first watch under my command.”
With the energy of the very young, he ran to the mainmast ropes and climbed, swift as a monkey, to the highest platform, where awaited a glass and cone. She looked up at him and he looked down at her, then he saluted. She nodded once, then stood silent whilst she picked out her own victims.
She saw where they stood, still alive. Neither Solomon nor Bridge would have had reason to kill them.
But she did.
And they knew it.
Lieutenant Smith caught her look and barked an order for five men to be tied to the masts of the ship. They ran, but her new crew was quick to capture them and follow those orders.
She clipped down the stairs to the main deck. She approached the first. “Look at me. Open your eyes.”
He refused, mute, miserable, tears rolling down his cheeks.
“Confess your sin.”
But he wouldn’t. He knew what he had done, and what she would do to him. Her crewman pried his eyelids open. With the point of her dagger, she pried his eyes out one by laborious one while he screamed in pain and blood poured out of the sockets. If he did not die, she would put him ashore.
She went to the next mast to which were bound two men. “Turn this one facing wood and get me a harpoon.” Her order was carried out and someone had slapped the long spike in her hand. “Spread him open.” With one upward thrust, she drove the spear into his back passage. His screams were deafening. They would cease in a moment or two.
The man next to him was already blubbering and begging for mercy, as he knew what was in store for him. She cut his breeches open with her dagger. With one hand, she grasped his cock and balls, yanked them toward her, stretching them as far as they would go, and sliced them both clean from his body. He passed out. Blood drained from his groin all over her hands and she wiped her palm dry on her arse. He would be dead by sunset.
To the third mast were strapped the last two men upon whom she would visit her vengeance. Smitty had ordered the instrument prepared as soon as she’d begun her rampage, and brought the red-hot iron tongs to her immediately. “Open his mouth.”
Two of her newly minted officers muscled his jaw open—twisting it so that it cracked at the hinges. Smitty clamped the tongs to his tongue and dragged it out of his mouth. She cut it out with short, ragged strokes. He, too, passed out. He could beg on a street corner somewhere with the blind man.
The last man was the ship’s former surgeon. She stared at him, and he stared back, his head high. He had participated in the event that had led her to take this ship, but not in the same manner as the others.
“You killed him, the grog you gave him.”
“I did,” he said without hesitation. “Swift and painless.”
She took a breath. “Thank you.”
He inclined his head.
“Leftenant Bull! Take him. Lock him in my cabin. I should decide what to do with him later.”
Bridge stepped forward and saluted. “Which cabin, Sir?”
“Oh, aye. I have a new cabin now. My old one, then. Have a boy move my things first.”
“Aye, Cap’n.”
That done, she turned and bound back up to the quarterdeck. “Solomon. Mount Skirrow’s head on the bowsprit as a warning to anyone else who thinks to take me or mine.”
The Arab’s mouth turned up in a diabolical smile. She and the rest of the crew watched silently as he impaled the head on a claymore, then grabbed a measure of rope before heading to the bowsprit to lash it tight.
Turning to address her men, she said, “We put into port in Casa Blanca soon for drydock. That will take some weeks. Those of you who do not wish to sail under a woman’s command will find your own way back to your homelands. After that, I go to Philadelphia to apply for a letter of marque. War has begun, and where there is war, there is money to be made.
“Those of you who’ve been bound who would be my crew are welcome to stay as long as you work. Otherwise, you’ll tell the leftenant where you wish to debark and I shall take you there. Any who have wives or sweethearts who would be willing to work for me are welcome to bring them aboard as we pass your home ports.
“The rest of you who wish to stay as my crew, freely and of your own will sailing under the command of a woman, will be well rewarded. This ship will henceforth go by the name Thunderstorm. We weigh anchor at dawn. Monsieur Senzeille, two extra rations of rum for each man and other than a skeleton watch of two hours each, you may have the rest of the evening to yourselves.”
The crew erupted in cheers.
It was a good day’s work, but she could find no joy in it.
She looked to the sun, low on the horizon, and kissed the tips of her fingers. “Adieu, mon cœur,” she whispered and went below to find a dark place to sob out her grief and heartache before her new crew saw her tears.
It was not meet for a commander to weep.
Nice, I expect it from Writers like you Mo,
Thanks!
Yeah, you can tell a pro. ??
Buy it & read it all, folks, You’re in for a treat.
(***cough, cough***Fanny Hill***cough, cough***)
Nice. Thank you Mojeaux. I should get off of my ass and contribute some content as well.
I dont do music often but today has been a music day. Currently playing: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gekHV9DIjHc&list=RDMM&start_radio=1&rv=nx0qBgkaULU
Nice Celtic feel. Their version of ‘Red Dirt Girl’ is pretty good too.
related
https://www.npr.org/2021/08/05/1025195204/romance-writers-of-america-was-doing-better-with-race-until-a-recent-award-choic
***
On Twitter, author Jenny Hartwell shared an email she sent to RWA board members: “Romances have flawed heroes and heroines who find redemption through the transformative power of love. However, aren’t there some people who shouldn’t be redeemed? Nazis. Slave owners. Soldiers who commit genocide.” Hartwell continued: “Can this author write this story? Absolutely. Free speech is important. But should our organization give this story its highest award? Absolutely not.”
…
The Vivians were in fact named for RWA founder Vivian L. Stephens, an African American with publishing experience who founded romance lines for Dell in the late 1970s and Harlequin in the early 1980s that aimed to reflect all of America. That one of the current awards honoring Stephens’ work should be bestowed on a romance that begins with the shedding of Indigenous blood (and in a year in which the revelations of hundreds of Indigenous deaths in Canada and some in the U.S. at so-called Indian boarding schools have shocked North America) — it’s almost too much for some.
***
I’ve noticed there aren’t very many sci-fi romance novels. The reason may be that guys are more interested in stuff and gals are more interested in people.
There are lots of scifi novels with romance *in them*, which is, in fact, different.
Yeah. A Princess of Mars and others in that series are very nearly “romance novels for men”. Ditto for the James Bond novels.
Yes, I’ve often said that Bond novels and Clancy novels, Jack Reacher, Jason Bourne, etc etc etc… Romance novels for guys. And I’m totally okay with that. People need their escapes.
We are all Walter Mitty.
Except Agent Sloper. He overthrows governments.
Stranger in a Strange Land built an entire religion around orgies.
Islam says ‘hold my hookah’.
“aren’t there some people who shouldn’t be redeemed?”
My problem with secular humanism (which these people would almost certainly call themselves followers of): the unbelievable arrogance judging the basic worth of another person. One of the most attractive qualities of Christianity is the philosophy of redemption. Let he who is without sin and all that…
Oh, and literary awards are Communist circle jerks nowadays.
This.
Other people who “shouldn’t be redeemed”: Trump voters, people who question vaccine and mask diktats, people who question the fashionable trend of racist education, etc.
Who? Me?
+1 death panel
I agree with this generally, but the fact that these assholes don’t offer any form of redemption is not my major objection to them. The things they hold out as requiring redemption, I disagree with. They seek to make others tremble before them for absolutely no good reason. The only people who do so are those who wish to hold the same power over others and join the gang of bullies. Decent people refuse the premise.
This. Redemption is the bedrock of Christianity and western civilization.
The ‘Basket of deplorables ‘ mentality is the bedrock of firing squads.
One is evil, the other is not.
#ShockedFacesRightThinkersWalls
a year in which the revelations of hundreds of Indigenous deaths in Canada and some in the U.S. at so-called Indian boarding schools have shocked North America
Shocked whom? Most people DGAF. Pre-modern child mortality was shockingly high by modern standards. There wasn’t a special exception for “Indigenous” people.
Friday Funbags.
https://archive.li/wo5Ru
On topic for Mojeaux’s writing.
Some of those women are going to have legit back problems later in life.
This has potential.
?
BTW, just noticed – Royals v. Cardinals tonight. Just sayin’… 😉
Got my night gig tonight, sadly. 🙁
OK, that’s it. I am not driving in Kansas City at night ever again. So much for the Arches and Gateway to the West.
Are those Swim Ballet clubs or Transgender Ice Hockey leagues?
Friday Night Pirate SmutPr0n Lanks?
More like goreporn; but really good from my second favorite KC native.
SECOND favorite?!
WTF?
Mrs. Q; in spite of the fact that she spent some time on that penal colony.
Ohhhhh okay. Totally fair.
Penal colony != KC, Penal colony = AUS; in case there was ambiguity.
I <3 KC.
No ambiguity. I got it.
Penile colonies are for the odalisque’s of the world.
Sorry, I wanted make a joke with the odalisque word in it, but this joke is not fully fleshed out.
Your need for approbation is naked.
Sometimes, joking is hard.
They’re for the odalisque’s *what*?
You know what else is hard?
Chinese arithmetic
Chinese arithmetic
Wait… you’re favorite KC native is not Kermie? Well, I never, racist!
Gore is good, pr0n is good. So there’s that.
Now even better together?
I think it’s time for a vote on whether any post that has not been firsted from the bestest firster ever, Broctard, is even a post at all. How could we even know?
I think his handlers reassigned him and he’s working deep cover in a III% compound somewhere in northern WI.
The problem with firsting is you only get to do it once. Bro is just chasing the dragon now.
He’s a great thinker of our time, seeking out the first Gay closet Glib.
Many maritime Shawshanks just got redemptioned right quick fast in a hurry.
I never watched that Black Sails show (any good?), but this sort of writing would make for a pretty good pirating drama.
I have not seen Black Sails, but a friend of mine took my book to a con where the lead pirate was on a panel, and she got a pic of him holding the book.
Neat-o
I wasn’t going to address this because it hurts so much, but thank you. I spent some weeks with this book running in my head like a fully edited and soundtracked movie (Danny Elfman, thanks), drone and helicopter shots, weather, gorgeous costumes, and it HURT that I would never see it on the screen.
My most dreamiest dream is to have an HBO series.
Too risque for the TV?
The sex is tertiary to the story, but very fun!
Nice!
I like tertiary, ancillary, abritrary… not contrary. Give me muh funding, it’s mine! I am a professional smutpr0n grant writer, and that’s SCIENCE! THE SCIENCE IS SETTLED!
Where do I submit my resume?
There’s a dropbox marked “Circular File” over there.
I’ve seen things, I fought a giant from the Space Bible. I have a portfolio, a cover letter, and a peer reviewed umm… thingy. That’s SCIENCE!
I could totally see a book entirely filled with this and not being as “romance” as it’s main draw. It’s enjoyable to read.
Thanks!
I would crowdfund it, but I know you’d want to go the whole way and do it properly rather than end up with an Atlas Shrugged affair.
My husband took me to see Atlas Shrugged for my birthday. I cried, they butchered it so badly.
So, here’s all the music I listened to while writing it: http://moriahjovan.com/talesofdunham/extras/music/dunham-soundtrack/
A lot of it is anachronistic, the way it is in A Knight’s Tale. I would definitely want the anachronistic soundtrack, but there has to be orchestral background music also. When they run a blockade in Chesapeake Bay, I have “Big Money” by Rush going through my head.
“…that Black Sails show (any good?)…”
Do ye like pirates?
Do ye like tits?
I like both and I enjoyed it.
related:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emily_Ruete
***
Emily Ruete (30 August 1844 – 29 February 1924)[1] was born in Zanzibar as Salama bint Said (Arabic: سالمة بنت سعيد), also called Sayyida Salme,[2] a Princess of Zanzibar and Oman. She was the youngest of the 36 children of Sayyid Said bin Sultan Al-Busaid, Sultan of Zanzibar and Oman. She is the author of Memoirs of an Arabian Princess from Zanzibar.
…
While living in Stone Town she became acquainted with her neighbour, a German merchant, Rudolph Heinrich Ruete (born 10 March 1839; died 6 August 1870) and became pregnant by him. In August 1866, after her pregnancy had become obvious, she fled on board the British frigate HMS Highflyer commanded by Captain [Thomas] Malcolm Sabine Pasley R.N. and was given passage on his ship to the British colony of Aden. There she took Christian instruction and was baptised prior to her marriage at Aden on 30 May 1867. Nonetheless, in a later letter to her sister, she avoided eating pork and dreaded attending church, stressing that she remained Muslim in secret.[3] She had given birth to a son, Heinrich, in Aden in December 1866; he died in France en route to Germany in the summer of 1867.[4]
***
OT: I lamented the other day that you hadn’t brought Arab privilege to our attention here
https://twitter.com/YasirQadhi/status/1268377001720778752?s=20
some Arabic jokes:
The word for Palestine in Arabic is Filasteen, which is an exact combo of the Arabic words for ‘bankrupt’ (filas) and ‘mud’ (teen).
As a Palestinian explained to me, it makes sense because they started out bankrupt and now they live in mud.
The Arabic word for ‘lieutenant’ is mulazim, which is an exact combo of the Arabic words for ‘not’ (mu) and ‘necessary’ (lazim).
Hashish means ‘grass’ in Arabic and is slang for marijuana. Someone who smokes hashish all the time is a muhashi, a pothead.
There are many, many muhashi jokes in Arabic.
Is it true that ‘hashish’ is the root of ‘assassin’, or is that bs?
Hashashiyoon would mean potheads, or more poetically, eaters of hashish. I lean towards the interpretation that assassin comes from assassiyoon, meaing ‘founders’.
Muassisah means foundation in Arabic. In Swahili, Tasisi means institute.
The leader of the Assassin sect had a fortress in the mountains called Alamut. Supposedly, one day, a foreign visitor asked the assassin leader to prove himself.
The leader order several followers to jump to their deaths from a cliff. They went gladly because the leader told them their marijuana hallucinations were visions of paradise.
Alamut was taken by the Mongols in the 13th century and all the assassins were slain.
In the video game Assassin’s Creed, the main character is called Al-Ta’ir, mispronounced as ‘AL tai yeer’ rather than ‘ah TAW er’. The name means ‘The Flyer’ in Arabic.
Speaking of pirate queens, had the combination of woke nazi critics, their chattering zombie readers, and the Marvel IP reshuffle not totally killed off the Iron Fist series, the third season would have been so much better. If you never made it to the end of season 2, you won’t know what I’m talking about, but the whole backstory of Wu Ao-Shi, the Pirate Queen of Pinghai Bay was about to be explored. My malformed, latent nerd is showing, but if you’re just going to tell me that Iron Fist sucked, please leopard punch yourself into the jaws of Shou-Lao the Undying. Colleen makes my chi tingle.
Oh wow, I didn’t even realize there was a second season.
I call on Suthen, the soon to be first lumber trillionaire, to open the Tahiti borders to all Glibertarians.
Wood?
Wood move to Tahiti? Wood.
Would?
Norwegian wood
Unless Suthen is sitting on a mill or lumberyard, he’s probably not seeing the money. Stumpage prices haven’t risen like finished lumber.
So you are saying a bandsaw mill would be a good investment.
*wannabe lumberjack*
I got a Stihl 038 with a 32″ bar
*nods confidently*
That’s a very nice saw! I wish Stihl would use the Super subname again. There’s something about that sounds, well, super.
I’m going there next month. I’ll try to establish a colony.
odalisque etymology
Oda means ‘room’ in Turkish and Levantine Arabic. Odalik means ‘room woman’ in Turkish. It’s a translation of the classical Arabic word hurmah which means a ‘forbidden [woman]’.
Odalisque is the French garbling of Odalik.
Turquoise comes from the French word for Turkish, as it was believed that the stone came from Turkey. At the time, most of it was mined in Persia, but since the Turks were the middlemen, they got the credit.
Like the old saying goes, it’s nobody’s business but the Turks.
Most “Turks” in turkey are genetically Greek.
QUIET, YOU!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HfFx5UvzSxc
It took me forever to find a word used in 1420 for turquoise. I had to cheat and use azure.
what was it? (if it’s in the article, I haven’t had time to read it yet)
It’s not in the article. For Cods & Cuntes, Bridget’s wedding dress was red and turquoise, but they didn’t have the word “turquoise” in England at that time (so far as I could determine). I used “azure” instead. It was as close as I could get to both the hue and the etymology.
Oh, you mean the color. Sea-green has a nice Anglo-Saxon ring to it.
“The sea, the snotgreen sea, the scrotumtightening sea.”
― James Joyce, Ulysses
James Joyce, acclaimed author of The Tale of Scrotie McBoogerballs and The Poop That Took a Pee.
I see.
I thought you meant the stone too.
“Cods & Cuntes”
Umm, but can you pack a cunte in salt for a decade and still…? Umm, never mind.
Eh, could have used gemma, the Latin word for jewel. This is where the world ‘gem’ comes from.
I wanted to paint the picture in my reader’s mind. In my mind, her wedding dress is fucking gorgeous. It’s one reason I want to learn how to draw and paint, so I can put that shit down on paper AS PICTURES instead of in words.
In my mind, Azure is a darker, more blue blue than turquise. Probably because it’s a pigment derived from Lapis Lazuli.
It was the best I could do under the circumstances.
Those sailors should have asked SEA SMITH for advice.
WATER IS GREAT, COME ON IN, RAPE YOU LAST!
I thought pirate captains were elected positions.
I’m the Captain right now, but they are planning a takeover,
/Thank God
Most of the time, yes. Some leaders need to be taken out the hard way.
As long as I don’t walk the plank, I’m good.
That wasnt the part I objected to, it was the declaration of the new captain. There should be a new election.
The long answer is, she was already ship’s master and navigator, and the mutiny was planned, so she had the support of those she needed.
The short answer is, a new election wouldn’t have been nearly as awesome.
Oh, fuck… I just ate soap. And I’m not talking regular ordinary soap. I mean Dawn Ultra Platinum 4X! I’m talking about the soap that is supposed to protect you from Super Dooper Delta Covid and 40 year old Cod Cunte!
I’m going to die, aren’t I?
Goodbye sweet world!
You’ll be farting bubbles for a few days, but you’ll be fine.
Quit Cussing!
Goddamnit!
As long as it wasn’t in a pod, you’re fine. I saw that one ‘lil Rascals episode where Alfalfa did just that. After his song ended, the bubbles stopped coming.
There was a fingerbowl sitting on the counter besides the sink. I mean typically we use those for salsa. But for some reason my wife decided she needed to use one to put some dish soap in. I saw it, picked it up and saw a purple slurry in it and thought, what is that? It must be good, I’ll try it! Then as I was walking out the room, I experience an intense bitterness and then burning in my throat. Damnit!
How old are you?
61
Ancient fuck.
And probably about 300% faster than you in every imaginable way.
I figured yo meant you ate some cilantro.
The best soapweed is MOAR Soapweed!
Purple Cilantro, all in my brain?
Once, when I was first sober, maybe a year and a half, I had to speak at Reseda high school to about a hundred kids. I hadn’t seen my brother since I got sober, but he flew in the morning of my speech. I picked him up at the airport and figured I’d bring him along and hang out afterwards. So I bring him with me and we go to the school. I get up and give my spiel. It was about a half hour talk. Then, as I walk of the stage, the teacher thinks that my brother is next and ushers him up onto the stage. My brother is a consummate bullshitter, so he just goes with it. He rattles off this:
“I have just one question for you all. Are you experienced? Have you ever been experienced? Because I have!” And then he went into a passable dissertation on how drugs had messed with his life and you’re probably better off without them. When he was done, he said, ” Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to kiss the sky”
He had zero experience with sobriety. He wasn’t even sober himself. He put the whole thing together just from watching my talk. It was pretty impressive.
Respekt
Good stuff Mojeaux. Thanks for sharing these here
Thank Swissy. He badgered me into it.
Those dudes on the mast would have been fine if they had just cranked the hog.
And I’ll be in my bunk.
It’s pretty obvious why they died the way the did. Why the ocularectomy?
Because that was one of the things they did to her husband.
Makes sense.
That was awesome Mojeaux. Absolutely brutal and awesome.
Thanks!
I had to establish her street cred right up front, yanno?
HeadChopping? Cred granted, awesome opener!
Thanks, Yusef.
I bought your book, and need to read it, it sounds Bawdy and fun,
🙂 I hope you like it. It took me 25 years to write it.
Ha! I just published a song that I recorded in 1993,
/Old Man indeed
I’m a little high. I ate (besides Dawn Platinum Super Death Soap), 600mg of KSM-66 Ashwaganda, 1000mg of Chromium Picolinate, 5G or l-glutamine, a bunch of L-Carnitine, I don’t even know how much, assorted other high and pharmaceutical grade stuff, and 1G of Nootropics Phenibut.
On the last one, I’d advise if you do not have a high tolerance for the stuff, NO NOT EVER DO THAT!
Oh, and 6 16.9 oz cans of Carlsberg and 4 Heinekens. I need another beer.
You’d better come out of retirement, Yusef, you lightweight. You drink like a girl and throw like one!
I believe you now qualify as a Superfund site. Bravo!
LOL
Damnit, I was trying to qualify as a super spreader site.
Celebrity Deathmatch: Love Canal vs Hyperion
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0wymm2l-kt8
I actually drank the Love Canal before anyone knew what love Canal was. Even before the Love Shack, before they added the canal.
Love Shack
I got me a love shack, it’s as big as a whale, the canal if just about 50 foot!
I don’t love you anymore, mang.
That is my least favorite song. If it every comes on the radio, I rage-change-the-channel.
Not cool.
Is there gas in the car? Yes there’s gas in the car.
Is your mouth getting dry? When your mouth is getting dry, you’re pretty high.
Look man, what time is it?
I’m pretty high. But I talked to my buddy and said look man, I need a place to live, can I stay with you? And he said ‘I dunno man, my wife is kinda funny’. And I said ‘I know, now everyone funny’. And out the door I went.
I want Bourbon, want Scotch, want beer…
I love you, mang.
Everybody’s funny. Now, you’re funny too.
I’m pretty sure it’s ‘Everybody funny, now you funny too’.
Well, that don’t confront me none.
As long as I get my money next Friday.
I love you, mang!
A lady in the neighborhood got an ambulance ride on Wednessdee with a 0.49 blood alcohol level.
You bitches are pikers!
I took a friend to the ER with a reading like that. He walked in. Waited for awhile,got pissed and left. The beer did eventually kill him. It’s amazing what the body can tolerate.
If they show up in my hood and you’re BAC is less than 1.0, they first ask all your neighbors if you’ve been passed out on the lawn most of the day with something in a bag in your hand. If the answer is no, they just drive off and leave you on the lawn.
Where I grew up, if you overdosed on heroin, there was a procedure. First you dragged the victim into the shower and turned it on as cold as possible. then you got some ice and put it down their pants. The whole time you’d slap them and yell at them to wake the fuck up. You did this long enough to understand that it wasn’t going to work. Then. you’d drag them out to the car and drive them to the hospital. When you got there, you’d prop them up right near the ER entrance and haul ass to the nearest phone booth. Then, you’d call the hospital and tell them that there was an O.D. case out front. I saw this drill about 5 times as a kid. It saved a kid’s life later on too.
? I have no idea what any of that is.
I do think that much beer would put me in the hospital.
I’ve had a double vodka cocktail and one beer. Debating whether I need or want another cocktail.
A double vodka means 2 Litres, right?
? Wrong.
You gotta get on down here to the Appalachia, bro, we gonna culture you. You’ll never miss NY again.
Sweet Home All Sumer Long
Redneck Paradise
If I can have that boat, I’m in.
So, you’re debating if you want only one more cocktail as opposed to multiple? Otherwise, I’m confused.
One more, incoming.
I’m surprised myself at how low my tolerance has gotten since my colon blew out last year.
Plus it has been a long, hard week and Fridays I can barely make it to 23:00 or 24:00 before I have to pass out any more.
I will randomly have nights (like last night) where I can make it into the wee hours, but anymore, if I can make it to 23:00 I’m doing pretty good.
Man, I get up at 04:00. I’m usually snoring by 20:00 or maybe 21:00 since we’re using cop time. Unless it’s a weekend. Then, I might add an hour or two.
I’m up around 6 whether I have to work or not. I miss being able to sleep late. I was never a deep sleeper anyway but this is getting ridiculous. The other day I got like 4 hours.
I was a 5AM riser until covid came and work from home started. Now I’ve moved to 6am other than when I have to go into the plant. I still seem to wake up around 5am for a minute even after a year of mostly 6am alarm clock settings. Been hard wired to 5am after years of it I guess.
In the old days if I was WFH I could roll out of bed a quarter hour before I had to start and be fresh as a daisy for work. Left lots of room for drinking and/or drugging late into the night.
I tried that for a bit. Especially at the beginning of this whole thing. I settled into waking up an hour before work and enjoying a coffee and bagel with the wife in the morning sun. I still drink more though.
COVID WFH totally screwed up my early morning wake schedule. Used to pop up at 4:30, now have trouble dragging my ass out of bed by 6:00.
You need sildenafil + yohimbine + cabergoline.
You’re welcome in advance.
Bring it Bro 345′ rollers FTW Biotch!
Video of Switzy green lighting the story
https://youtu.be/KDSCu9zwuyM
https://twitter.com/SallyMayweather/status/1423451914256228353
Dude, the final variant is always that wasn’t true communism… after a few million deaths of course.
https://archive.li/2wxPB/61d0c3ac83617c726d7064ca6e83aefe63d41a09.webp
NSFW.
https://archive.li/TSwFH/f36d8e8dd308844352524fbc1d1c8e8e6db0d265.webp
NSFW.
https://archive.li/LevvN/b098e94abf1b407926fc18870eac783d193f5e1e.jpg
NSFW.
https://archive.li/Wo3y4/fb026ad8b4d54782fc892550462a5aad4a137c5b.jpg
NSFW.
army recruiting ad from Trump years
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N0f_ZUgqvxE
vs.
army recruiting ad from Biden years
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MIYGFSONKbk
[Kiff sigh]
This one is good as well. Hurts, but good.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MfnoypVmGR0
Wonderful. Reminded me of this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OwGodJTgCwE
Saw something like that before a movie on a military base. The whole audience stood at attention. When the song was over, there was a mighty shout which shook the building.
That was more fun than the movie.
Wow. And I was just about to queue up some Be All You Can Be ads.
Oh shit.
I sincerely hope all conservative white males just stop enlisting in the military. It won’t happen, but that’s what these cunts deserve.
I’ll always love the Army; just got to the point where I didn’t want to be in it anymore.
Oh no, it will happen because these woke idiots will force it, sometime right before they all die.
Good evening my fellow Glibs.
I saw Hyp talking about some various pharmaceuticals or some such above that he’s tested tonight. I’ve stuck to the tried and true Bacardi and Coke this evening. Enjoying one of the few Toronto evenings of the year where I can wear shorts and a T-shirt outside in comfort.
How’s FLA or anywhere in the south these days? I’m about ready to leave my northern home for more liberty minded pastures. Much work for a chemical/nuclear engineer down in the swamps? If Ontario institutes another lockdown after 80+% of the residents have gotten vaxxed, my 5 year plan to move down south may accelerate. At that point I don’t see any end here no matter what empty promises are made by our fearless leaders. I see far too many people around here wearing masks outside to have any faith in the populous pushing back. Ontario is done.
I was in Florida last month and they were protesting against communism. I’m from California, that is exactly opposite. I honked and waved.
Same here man. I grew up in small town Ontario and it definitely is a different scene than Toronto general area when it comes to opinion of government, but the liberty minded folk are still largely outnumbered here.
At least California has nice weather pretty much year round.
Good evening Smilin Joe.
Been a while.
As I always say, I lurk daily. Just am always about 12 hours behind in posts so don’t comment too often.
I hate reading and witnessing that my escape hatch that is the United States is scuttling itself at a similar but slightly slower rate than Canada.
Go to Mexico and cross the border. If you can speak a few words of Spanish, you’ll be in like Flynt. Failing that, try a Speedy Gonzales impression while wearing a poncho and a sombrero.
It’s not that hard.
French and Spanish are like the same right? Mercido mon amigé. I got this
Despierta moi quand it’s all over
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_PVLCZE_ov0
Wow it’s oldhomeweek around here.
Paging JB and sir Digs…
Ahh the good old Reason days back when I was in school. Spent half the morning on Reason AM links mixing it up.
Georgia is great! We had no statewide lockdowns or mask mandates. Businesses mostly stayed open and we have a housing and business boom since Fall 2020.
Lots to do depending on what you like. many people carry guns here so crime outside of Atlanta is rare.
Also Georgia is going to be ground zero for really fucking up Democrat plans to steal elections again. Arizona is doing all the legwork but there are too many Lefties in their state government to do anything about the exposed election fraud.
I like everything you’ve described. When I was just coming out of school I did apply to a couple nuke plants down there, specifically the new builds, but never got much interest.
Half of my family is spread all along the east coast so anywhere from the thousand islands bridge in northern ny down to Naples Fla has family within a couple hours drive.
She’s gonna sex the hell outta that surgeon in chapter 18, isn’t she?
Oh good heavens no.
Also, in this book, it is a QUIM.
From Dictionary.com:
Sexist, Mo. SEXIST!!!!
Interestingly, I did not see the same concerns under “dick” or “cock”.
They can get on their knees and lick my pouty pink quim.
Go here then here.
No Steely Dan was listened to in the writing of this book.
I can’t get past your first sentence. When I do I will click the links.
It’s my fault. I kicked off the genital jokes upthread. then, I threw in a Steely Dan joke that nobody seemed to get, so that’s my fault too.
Yesterday I posted a Steely Dan link and then said Steely Dan 3 times and sure enough, MikeS showed up!
+1 it’s so good to be home!
Reelin in the years remains one of my favorite songs. Lay on the Steely Dan
As someone wise said last night:
Okie dokie, I’ll link it again. Steely Dan with Michael McDonald. Very good concert.
I, for one, ain’t never going back to my old school.
What’s a Michael McDonald?
Shut up about Peggin again, you sickos!
Sickos!
Mojo, it took me a minute to figure it out, but this reminds me of Valaria of the Red Brotherhood. RE Howard.
Good stuff. Highest praise!
Thanks!
I googled that book (never heard of it) and this stuck out at me:
I have to admit I had to do that. Romance readers do not like the heroines to be more bad-ass than the heroes, and Elliott (the hero of this book) is a bit more laid-back than Celia (heroine) is, so sometimes he comes across as not as bad-ass. That is not true. He’s just a bit more philosophical about things, but he’s a bit more ruthless than Celia is. Anyway, he has to protect her while the British are out hunting her (they’re sailing his’n’hers ships) and then he has to save her when her ship breaks up in a storm. They are each capable on their own. They are more than their sum when they’re together.
Supersonic baseballs, home made weapons, a touch of welding. Man being man at his best.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4I-p8vjQ95s
Dang, Mojeaux, that was excellent.
Thanks!
I’m wondering if Friday night is going to become pirate night or something.
I’ll vote “yes”, if only so for excuse for:
A pirate walks into a bar with a steering wheel sticking out of his pants.
The bartender says, ‘Do you know you have a steering wheel in your pants?’ and the pirate says, ‘Aargh! It’s drivin’ me nuts!’”
This book is so long it’d take 2 years of Friday nights to get to the end of it.
Boom – Mojeaux is instantly the most prolific Glib!
Oh, honey.
1,966,500 words in print.
But I don’t think there will be any more. I’m tapped out.
Oh, I knew you were the most prolific in _that_ sense – I just meant most prolific author here.
Which, you know, would be some nice braggin’ rights.
Sorry to hear you think you’re done – hopefully the art classes will get the creative juices going in another direction.
I admit I’m getting more nervous about the classes the closer the date gets. Me, in a classroom again. I just don’t know about this.
You’ll be fine.
You’re there to learn – you won’t be expected to know anything. Relax into being a student again.
I didn’t realize Monsters and Mormons was an actual title. For some reason I thought it was a glibmeme name that was invented here.
Yes, it’s a pulp anthology my publishing partner and I put out to reclaim our villainy from the 19th Century. Several Glibs here have read it and loved it and asked me if we’re going to do a second one, which we might.
I have a story in it that I posted on Glibs.
I hope Barbarians and Baptists becomes just as successful. I’m trying to finish Anthrax and Assholes before starting something new.
That’s what she said.
Yes, very entertaining! And just last week I vacationed at Pirates Beach.
Today in the metal shop, I used a hydraulic sheering machine to cut a bunch of tags, then I used a punch machine to make holes in them, then I used the weld gun to write the part numbers on them, then I cut wire to attach the tags to the parts.
Yes, I am an iron man. My heart beats for metal.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fstZYdsXsS8
You sound like you’re having fun at your new occupation, Derpy. I hope that continues.
I like it a lot. I have a phone interview Monday for a job teaching Arabic to soldiers on a military base.
I’m torn.
oo, sounds like Top Gun, but you as Kelly McGillis to some LT maverick hottie.
De rigueur
My advice is to strike out for your new passion.
Revisiting the old after it’s gone sour isn’t progress and it usually doesn’t work.
Words of wisdom.
It’s a highway to the danger zone.
Danger Zone
Lana.
Lana…
LANA…
You don’t wanna be playing with all those boys.
You need to parlay it into a consulting gig. With a premise of using a relaxed alcohol lubricated session in the evenings to really connect with the soldiers instead of a fall asleep daytime classroom. Then you can have your كعكة العسل العربية and eat it too.
I spent 3,000 hours studying Arabic and I don’t want it to go to waste. Plus I like the idea of passing on my knowledge and being a force multiplier.
Are you lying naked on the floor?
NICE! I’m playing catch-up here…where are you doing this metal shop badassery at?
South of the Mason Dixon and east of the Mississippi. Near Camp Swampy.
Haha. Gotcha.
I guess I meant, private business, or military training, or school, or…
just a regular construction company
I knocked Tin for years, metal is my Friend,
You are Iron Man,
I like it. I always tell myself I want to do more metal work but then never get to doing it. I just look at the welds and other masterful metal work on the parts that come through the plant.
Someday I’ll fire the stick welder back up.
A $130 million Global Hawk crashed a few miles from where I work today.
We’ll jut make more,
Testing out the kamikaze function?
What do you get for turning it in?
Well done!
WOLVERINESSS!
I am so awkward with Wimmens, I miss my Wendy, at least I knew her,
/wimmens Scary
No, you aren’t bro, you just don’t know it yet.
It’s a matter of when, not time. You’re a lady killer and don’t forget it! Don’t make me come up there and prove it, Yooper!
JoJo
After 20 months, I was back down there last Friday.
If you’ve heard that progtards can ruin ANYTHING, you’ve heard right. Some wars will be worse than others.
OT: Speaking of the days of old sailing ships, I got some long pepper as part of my historical cooking hobby. This stuff used to be highly prized in the Spice Road days, and in fact, “The quest for cheaper and more dependable sources of black pepper fueled the Age of Discovery”.
I ground up one of the catkins as they’re called and tasted it next to regular pepper. It’s definitely much hotter, and it has woody overtones. I almost think I detected a bit of numbness too, like what you get after eating Szechuan peppers. I’m excited to try it on some of my regular dishes and examine how it kicks up the flavor. They still use it in Indian, Middle Eastern, and North African spice blends.
Tasting History just did an episode on Medieval Egyptian Hummus that includes long pepper among its many ingredients (actually it’s an ingredient in the spice blend that’s one of the ingredients, but whatever).
Catkins? This is secretly about furries isn’t it?
Good stuff, mojo. I like how your Mormon repressed sensuality for indulgence in drink and other vices explodes into your written words and lusty heroines.
CPRM: we apparently never read the same threads, do again I’ll state that YES I GOT THE LOVELY HIGH-LEVEL PATREON GIFTS!!
I recommend to the rest of y’all that you might want to up your PATREON game for CPRM. Sometimes you get fun bonus content through email too!
Remember: feed CPRM now so that he doesn’t turn up personally begging at your door.
suh’ fam ?
Whats goody
::yawns, stretches, takes a sip of iced mocha latte (light!):: Good morning, homey! Peaceful and not (yet) too hot here at Tranq Base. How YOU doin’?
Jugsy is home for a couple days, and I got the grass done yesterday.
No reason to leave the house….(wink wink)
Well, cept work tonight
Sweaty boobs abound! Go Tres!
Mine or hers ?
Why not all four?
The one surviving thing from my youth, a great work ethic. Looks, charm, physicality and curly locks have all faded away but my determination has not quite yet. I guess that’s goody…
…and THIS is TWICE as good as goody!
The showman would later go on to form Frankie Lymon and the Teenagers which would get him cancelled and gulaged today.
Mornin y’all
Mornin’ Sean! I ate some edibles last night and I have the weirdest craving for steaks and guns…
Not weird at all.
I got some porterhouses and a tri tip for this weekend.
The beef I can get on the hoof but the other is an impossibility.
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Indiana
Not mentioned – gun trees.
Hey hey!
On the schedule for today – coffee, cinnamon rolls, taking the truck in for an oil change and a wash, then maybe head up to the gun club for a few hours of shooty goodness.
https://abc6onyourside.com/news/local/ohio-grandma-ross-smith-worlds-largest-oreo-8-3-21
Carbs. ?
I hope they have a big enough kiddie pool and enough milk to dunk it! ??
Carbs/schmarbs… Granny seems delighted!
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=MlWTxrqOVEk
?
https://www.upi.com/Odd_News/2021/08/06/teeth-fish-Jennettes-Pier-Nathan-Martin-sheepshead-Nags-Head-North-Carolina/9221628281919/
Freaky.