Sunday, October 29, 2006

November Wordsmiths Unlimited Challenge: The Chapel

I was recently invited to join in the fun with the massively sexy people over at Wordsmiths Unlimited for their November Challenge which involves writing a scary story involving the picture below. You have 500 words or less with which to hang yourself, and this month there's the added challenge of not using any word over 4 syllables (which was surprisingly easier than it sounds). So here's my contribution, and everyone have a rad Halloween.

The Chapel

This place is haunted.

Look at the picture of it; you can tell without having to be there, following your husband to this shell of a building on the edge of his grandparent's farm. You won't be able to feel the damp November sky peek through the rotten timbers of the ceiling; you can't smell the scents of fern, dirt, animal, fire. You can't see the way the shadows hide things, but you can look at this photo and know that yes, it is filled with ghosts.

The ghosts are around you now as you clutch your husband's hand tight, standing in the doorway. You are trying to be brave; this trip is important to your husband. He walks inside, picking his way through the wild growth. You stay where you are, trying to listen to the ghosts that tickle the backs of your knees, prick you between the shoulders.

What are they saying?

To hear what they say you must first know what happened here. This is what your husband tells you:

When I was young I spent summers here on the farm with my grandparents. Their acreage included part of some woods, and at the edge of the woods was an old building. It was probably a barn or a stable, but we always called it The Chapel. My grandparents forbid me to ever go near there because hobos liked to camp out there sometimes. But I was a dumb kid and one night I snuck out there. There were two men there and I saw them cooking something over a fire. They heard me and they found me.

So this visit is meant to be therapy, helping your husband come to terms with that night, and the ghosts are those of small animals and the sad innocence of a little boy.

The ghosts are victims, but you've heard them wrong.

You can hear your husband scuffle around, then you hear him sigh. It takes monumental effort to join him inside The Chapel, and when you do you find him staring at a charred ring on the ground. You wrap your arms around him, oh my love.

The ghosts are louder now but you are too absorbed in the misery of your husband, you try to hold him and comfort him.

This is what you are missing:

Once there was a little boy who lived with his grandparents during the summer. They lived on a farm, and at the edge of their land was a rotted-out building they called The Chapel. He liked to bring animals here. One time he brought his dog, a big German Shepherd. The last time he was here he brought back his baby brother. They found the baby in the creek, thought he had crawled too close to the water and drowned.

Your husband is holding you tightly, too tightly, there is something cold and sharp in between the knobs of your spine.

The ghosts tried to warn you.

Thursday, October 26, 2006

Hangover apology

God, I'm so sorry I blogged you so late a few nights ago! I didn't wake you up, did I? Oh. When did you start going to bed so early? Oh yeah, I forgot about that.

I was... well, I was drunk. So very, very drunk. I don't remember what happened after I blogged you, I passed out shortly afterwards and woke up on the couch with my arms wrapped around an traffic cone and I was missing a sock. And it's not like you haven't drunk blogged me, you know, remember that one time last summer when you were coming back from that birthday party? Remember all that crazy crap you were telling me about how you 'experimented' in college? Man, that was funny.

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

My first drunken post EVAR!!!1!!

Wooo orange juice and vanilla-flavored vodka!!!!!!

I love you guys!!!!!!!!

Friday, October 20, 2006

Lazy-ass post

Look everyone, I put new linky-dinks in the sidebar over there to your left! Go check that crap out.

Thursday, October 19, 2006

Sea Hag's adventures at Sea World

So I took a little road trip a few days ago to visit a friend, and we went to Sea World. I hadn't been there in about 20 years so I decided to actually remember to bring a camera and use it to document this joyous occasion and share it with all you Sea Hag fans.

So, when you first walk into the park there's some flamingos standing around. Very cool.

Then we went over to the beer hall, where they hand out FREE BEER! For realz, not for fakez. Because the park is owned by Anheiser-Busch, they give out all you can chug beer, and it's decent stuff too!

Apparently there are like, some dolphins and fish and shit at this park too, but I stayed in the nirvana that was the Free Beer Hall.

I love Sea World.

The End.

Saturday, October 14, 2006

Things I'm Embarrassed To Like: Music

I think everyone has a few songs that they would never admit they really like, but if they're in the car by themselves they feel free to rock the fuck out and sing at the top of their lungs. Come on, you know that there are a few songs on your iPod that you pray won't start playing if you're around other people. Don't make me come look at your Playlists!

The ones on my list are mostly fluffy pop gems or country-esque tunes which will more than likely take away a lot of my indie cred, but oh well. I'm going to be proud of the unredeeming shit on my iPod for once!

Feel free to share with me your own craptacular musical choices, or mock mine severely, I know I deserve it in this case.

Worst. Playlist. Ever!
Toxic - Britney Spears
Baby One More Time - Britney Spears
Naughty Girl - Beyonce
Tubthumper - Chumbawamba
Fruita Fresca - Carlos Vives
Strawberry Wine - Deana Carter
Missing - Everything But The Girl
Silver Spring - Fleetwood Mac
Fever for the Flava - Hot Action Cop
Anything by John Mayer
Nth Degree - Morningwood
Like A Bird - Nelly Furtado
Set Adrift on Memory Bliss - P.M. Dawn
Don't Cha - Pussycat Dolls
Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy -Big & Rich
SOS - Rihanna
Kiss From A Rose - Seal
I Saw Red - Warrant

Thursday, October 12, 2006

Hot blog check in...what what!

Want to be included on my Sexy Blog Links thing? Send me an e-mail to loveseahag(at)gmail(dot)com or stick a link in the comments. I'll cruise your bloggy and if I deem it to be all sexified, it'll go up.

Wednesday, October 11, 2006

Hey baby, what's your sign?

Hello all you fabulous people!

I've already posted this over at The Monkey Barn, but I decided to put this over here too because I wanted more reposnses and I was feeling way too lazy to come up with a new post.

I want to know what are the best and worst pick-up lines you've ever heard or used, because some of us need a good laugh, and some of us need new material.

Post them in the comments or e-mail them to loveseahag(at)gmail(dot)com, and sometime next week (in other words, when I'm not drunk and puking on someone's penny loafers) I'll post the winners. You may even get a prize!

Take it off!

So a few nights ago I went with some friends to The Pink Pony. For those of you who don't know of this establishment, or can't figure it out by the name, this is a fully-nude-lady strip club in Atlanta. It's great for many reasons: they serve alcohol, the strippers are usually very nice and cute, there is a good variety of strippers there, from very natural-looking girls to uber bodacious ones, and it is one of the very few places that has stripper poles.

I had a great time. I got way drunk and saw tons of naked ladies, and what's even better is that there were other women there enjoying the scene and having a good time.

I think there's a natural curiosity for many of us middle-class suburban girls with people who work in the sex industry. Maybe it's because the whole enterprise is presented to us (directly or indirectly) as we're growing up as the very lowest station in life one can sink to. You study hard, make honor roll, get accepted to college so you don't become a stripper or a hooker or whatever. And, of course, being human begins, we are often attracted to the very things that seemed so forbidden and opposite our own experiences. Or maybe we're just seeking some bad-girl cred.

Or maybe it's just a matter of the boundaries we perceive between 'normal' and 'abnormal' sexually are starting to become more relaxed. After all, things like homosexuality, pornography and fetishes, while not exactly accepted by everyone, are definitely more mainstream than they were just one generation ago. So maybe as we become more open-minded as a society, having a job in the sex industry is seen as not really that big of a deal anymore.

Of course, there are those people who frown upon stripping because they feel it exploits women, and they certainly have a point. But then, aren't men and their desires being exploited as well at the same time? For example, there was one very pretty dancer who got up for her set on the big stage, and a young, well-dressed man came up and started dropping dollar bills on the stage. Hundreds of them. Literally. She had so much money by the end that she literally couldn't hold it all, and they had to get her a bucket to haul it off in. We cheered for her, and I'm guessing she walked off with maybe around $500 bucks just for being naked for about 5 minutes. Hell, I get naked every day in the shower and I certainly don't get paid, so you have to wonder who exactly is getting 'exploited' when she walked off with more money than some people make in a week. If that doesn't deserve a big ol' you go girl! then I don't know what does.

I suppose that if you are a stripper you are privy to some seriously odd people though, but then I think everyone has to put on their game face to go to work so I suppose it's not terribly different. It probably takes a long time to unwind and kinda settle back into your body though.

Anyway, enough for my thoughts on boobies for the time being. If you'd like to learn more about boobies, visit your local library! (Sea Hag suggests 'Candy Girl' by Diablo Cody and 'Strip City' by Lily Burana).

Monday, October 09, 2006

More Sea Hag to Love!

Can't get enough of that good Sea Hag stuff? I did some more exhaustive research (by which I mean I googled 'Sea Hag' and read the first 5 hits) and found more interesting people and places who also proudly bear the Sea Hag name:

There's a myth-based character in the Forgotten Realms game (it's a tabletop role-playing game, or RPG, for all my non-dork readers) that is a seaweed-covered wretch who lures men to their deaths with their siren song. Heh.

To clean up your naughty bits, there's Sea Hag Soap, and a ton of seafood restaurants from Portland to Thailand who are blessed under the name of Sea Hag.

Damn you, sassy pirate wench, infringing upon my intellectual pirate stripper rights! Damn youuuuuuuuu!

If your'e looking for a good vacation spot, there's a Sea Hag Marina in Steinhatchee, FL, and the web site has a section on there called Ask Cap'n Brandi, which has a picture of a woman dressed like a naughty pirate...hey, she's stealing my character! There can be only one Pirate Stripper around here, lady. There can be only one! Now we must battle to the death!

Thursday, October 05, 2006

Sea Hag: The Artistic Side

I totally took this picture last week. Cool, huh? I shall call my picture "Zorak Sitting on Some Kind Of Flower I Don't Know What It's Called But It Looks Cool In Front Of Some Random House In Decatur While I Was Wandering Around With Noochie".

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

Gonna party like it's your birthday!

Happy Birthday Noochie! On this joyous day, I give you this:

Tuesday, October 03, 2006

I Hate Everyone: Slow Guy in the Fast Lane

This week's scorn winner is the guy I drove behind on the way to work today. He was going 50 miles an hour. In the left lane. People were swerving like crazy to get around him. A giant tractor-trailer hauling cars passed us. A big truck full of cows passed us. I think an ice cream truck passed us too. I, of course, was directly behind him so it was quite some time before I could jump into the stream of folks desperate to get from behind him.

I'd like to point out that the speed limit on this stretch of interstate is 55 miles per hour. Of course, in Atlanta, that translates into a minimum of 70-80 mph, so already this guy was in direct violation of the rules of the road. But the worst part is that he was in the damn fast lane and wasn't even doing the speed limit. And no, it didn't seem like he was having some sort of stupid car troubles or anything, in fact, when I finally managed to pass him, I looked over so I could give him a dose of Stink Eye, and he was chatting away on his cell phone, oblivious to the fact that he was being passed by trailers full of livestock.

Needless to say, I was late for work, which made me wonder if anyone else was also delayed by this dude. I mean, maybe some guy got stuck like I did, and he was late for work. Maybe he had a mean boss, and because he was late, he got fired. So now this guy in unemployed, and he's got a pregnant wife and 2 other kids, and little Timmy has asthma really bad, and now they can't afford an inhaler for him because they don't qualify for unemployment and they don't have health insurance anymore. So they have to apply for welfare, and the guy can't stand the fact that his family is receiveing government cheese, so he starts drinking and that, of course, escalates into full-blown alcoholism. His wife eventually leaves him for a guy who sells aluminum siding, taking the kids to go live in Iowa on a soy bean farm.

...and all of this because some guy was too much of an asshole to hang up and move over a few lanes to let the faster traffic go by.

So this week, I hate the slow guy in the fast lane. If there were a contest to see who was the biggest jerk in the world, I am sure you'd tie with Hitler.

Monday, October 02, 2006

Sea Hag: The woman, the myth, the legend

Several of you darling readers have asked me: My dear, beautiful creature, however did such a sublime and wondrous being as yourself come to be known by such a questionable moniker as Sea Hag?

OK, I'm lying, it was more like: What the fuck is a Sea Hag? Details. Whatever.

This got me to thinking, just where did my nom de plume come from? Are there other Sea Hags in the ocean? I shall have to research this!

Sadly, it turns out that I am not, in fact, the only Sea Hag (though I am, of course, the best and prettiest one). The most well-known Sea Hag is from the Popeye cartoons and comics, where she has a thing for Popeye and thus spends her time cooking up evil ways to get him to fall in love with her or kill him outright.

Personally, I don't believe this crazy unrequited-Popeye-love for a second. I mean, she must have had some other nefarious scheme cooked up and the Popeye thing was a farce or possibly a way for her to claim insanity if she was later tried in a court of law. I mean, have you ever seen Popeye? He has ONE EYE! Hence his name! Surely this Sea Hag could have done a whole lot better than to pine for someone with severely compromised depth perception. And his arms...they're so grossly swollen that he must be taking a ton of steroids, and really, there's only one way for a guy to get such beefy forearms, and that's to constantly shake hands with 'little Popeye', if you know what I mean.

Plus Popeye had that weird emotionally abusive relationship Olive Oyl. Every episode started off with her not being able to make up her mind whether she liked Popeye or Bluto (also on 'roids, hence the aggression) more, then Popeye would beat Bluto's ass ('ROIDS! I'm telling you, fuck that spinach shit) and she'd be all over Popeye...until the next day when this whole thing was repeated. Obviously my namesake wouldn't have put up with such a total doormat, so there had to be something else going on there, I'm sure of it.

Sunday, October 01, 2006

October 1

Happy beginning of Fiscal Year 2007 everyone! Party like it's Fiscal Year 1999! Wooo!