My humorous thoughts about life.

"My Humorous Thoughts About Life" Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor- Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor -Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor - Humor

Tuesday, September 30, 2014

#WW : It's Pat

What is it?




Sunday, September 28, 2014

#MM ELP

I love these old songs from Emerson, Lake, and Palmer.







Come join Music Monday and share your songs with us. Rules are simple. Leave ONLY the ACTUAL LINK POST here and grab the code below and place it at your blog entry. You can grab this code at LadyJava’s Lounge Please note these links are STRICTLY for Music Monday participants only. All others will be deleted without prejudice.




PS: Because of spamming purposes, the linky will be closed on Thursday of each week at midnight, Malaysian Time. Thank you!

Saturday, September 27, 2014

Wewriwa on the Last Weekend of September

Welcome to another addition of the 

Weekend Writing Warriors



Hop on over to the main page and check out the wonderful snippets from a variety of genres.


Last week I abandoned my YA manuscript and gave my dear readers a middle grade snippet. Here is another sample from MRS. ZIMMERMAN'S DONUTS. Since the manuscript is unpublished, feel free to put on your "Evil Editor" hats and give me some honest yet constructive feedback. I can take it! 

I've struggled to write my metaphor without using words that take the reader off the page. This has been a challenge. To quote Mark Twain, "The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and a lightening bug." Please help me to strike lightning as I introduce this kid.


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My thoughts and everything else rattled as the door flung open and smashed into the wall. Slater Slatker, the new kid, burst into the room followed by papers flying off desks and swirling into an air dance before settling onto the floor. With a smile that reached from ear to ear, he blew a whirlwind of charm toward my class, and within two minutes, knew them better than I had after five years. Obviously, Slater was used to spinning dirt while making his tornadic path, which meant life wouldn't be the same in the wake of his destruction. His brown Mohawk spiked on top of his head into a stiffly gelled shark fin. He wore faded red shorts and a sleeveless skateboarding T-shirt on that chilly October morning. The entire class turned toward him as he stomped his monstrous Nikes onto the gray tiles. That kid had the biggest darn feet I’d ever seen, and a mouth to match.

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