Bombs & Beers and the American Dream Flash Fiction Challenge

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beer, challenge, contest, economy, flash fiction, music, neliza drew, politics, punk, revolution, write, writing

I’ve spent part of the day cheering on the stupid stock market like it was wearing a jersey and I had a bucket of beer.

Stocks, douchebaggy Congresspeople, “compromising” POTUSes, poor kids rioting because they’re angry and out of a future anyway, students protesting, citizens protesting, recalls, endless wars… It’s the stuff of a George Orwell tale. Or Ray Bradbury. Or Suzanne Collins for that matter.

Which means Hubby and I have been listening to a lot of The Shakers lately. Old-school-style punk rock out of Margate, FL. For giving your inner anger something to yell about, they can’t be beat.

So, in the spirit of “our failed economy” and “start[ing] a revolution,” I’m tossing a challenge out into the void. Take as your inspiration, either the song “American Dream” from their current CD Crabby Road or “Bombs & Beers” from Good Enough. I don’t care what they inspire you to do. Pick any random lyric, the title, the “theme,” whatever. Make it about 1000 words.

I give you until Aug. 30th because that’s when I’m supposed to be registered for something so that date will be on my mind anyway. (It’ll also give me a chance to track down a prize or two). Prizes, you ask? Sure. How ’bout a free Shakers CD to… (honestly, probably a name from a hat because I hate being all judgmental unless I’m not asked to be)?

To hear “American Dream,” click here. (Writers may also find a new anthem in the “Booze” song under it.)

Lazy-Ass TexMex Hungry Gym Brain Casserole

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casserole, cooking, corn tortilla, exercise, food, gym, punk, recipe, sarcasm, texmex, treadmill, vegetarian, writing

If I were running on this, everyone would be able to get away with everything.

While running, I pretty much stare at the same angry-gorilla-looking smudge chunk in the baseboard of the gym.  If I look up, Glenn Beck’s crazy-civics-teacher apparel and bat-shit crazy speech elevates my heart rate into the potentially-falling-off-treadmill range.  If I look left or right, I get disoriented and potentially fall off treadmill.  If I look at my feet, I remember I have no rhythm and therefore can’t fake it.

When I get off the treadmill, I go do weights and attempt to figure out my average mile time and average mph in my head.  When I succeed, I know oxygen is finally getting up there again.

This means that as I’m leaving the gym and gulping water on the way home, my brain is free to dream about food.  In between paychecks, this means trying to think of recipes that can be assembled from whatever leftover chunks of food happen to be laying around the house.

Thus, Lazy-Ass TexMex Hungry Gym Brain Casserole:

1. Dump a couple of cans of beans (I used pinto & kidney, but feel free to use black, garbanzo, whatever) in a casserole dish.
2. Dump a can or jar of tomatoes in with the beans.
3. Fill can or jar with water and toss that in, too, before throwing can in recycling bin.
4. Toss in about a cup, maybe a cup and a half, of brown rice (assuming you have a jar of bulk rice handy, though I suppose you could also use any other sort of rice or grain you found in the cupboard).
5. Add spices (I used some chipotle powder, chili powder, cumin, a dash of turmeric, & a bit of cayenne).
6. Throw in some veggies (suggestions: frozen peppers, onions, corn, anything on the verge of going bad that might remotely fit in with everything else…)
7. Stir.
8. (I realize I didn’t mention meat. That’s because I’m a vegetarian and I have Hubby mostly converted.  The beans add protein.  If you really need meat, soy crumbles, or an eye of newt, throw it in before stirring.)
9. Make a quick corn tortilla topping (I swear it takes about 3 minutes or one punk song, if you work fast):
   • Throw 1 cup AP flour, 1 cup corn meal, 1-2/3 teaspoons baking soda, 1/2 teaspoon salt, and 3/4 cup of water in a bowl.
   • Mix.
   • Clean off counter-top and sprinkle a bit of cornmeal & flour.
   • Put mixed-up blob on counter and roll it out like cookie dough (if you don’t have a rolling pin, get creative & use a clean wine/beer bottle or a cup dusted with flour). (Cutting it into strips and making the thing look fancy is optional.)
   • Put your cornmeal cookie-dough on top of the rest of the mess.
10. Stick casserole dish in oven at 375 for about 30 minutes or so.
11. Take it out and sprinkle it with cheese (veggie shreds, rice cheese, cheddar, toe cheese, no cheese, whatever floats your boat).
12. Stick it back in the oven at 400 for about 10 minutes (or ever how long it takes you to write a page of dialogue between some sisters who can’t really seem to say to each other what needs to be said).
13. Take it out, cut it up, dish it out, sprinkle with hot sauce/salsa/nothing, and eat it.
14. (I ate it before I realized I could take a picture of it.)

This recipe has been brought to you by the letters L, A, H, G, B, and C.

Also, because I sometimes go back and read Robert Crais’s earlier Elvis Cole books for sarcastic inspiration (sarcastic character inspiration, not…oh, shut up, you) & I have recently realized that not only are they fun little romps, but they have built-in cookbooks.

Writing Methods, Procrastination, & Distractions

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bands, blues, disappointment, distractions, laptop, live music, outdoors, paper, pens, procrastination, punk, stationery, stories, writing

Over the weekend, I had a bit of inspiration for a short story.  The trouble was that I was in a bar trying to listen to live music performed by people I knew (but not well enough for them to be completely understanding of me scribbling on scrap paper at the bar while they played).  The next day turned into a whirlwind of nonsense and I only got to a bit of dialogue.  The dialogue is missing context, plot, and a host of other things.  It was a start.

Saturday night found me watching a completely different band — this time outdoors in a brutal wind (okay, for those of you up in the frozen, blizzardy north, it was honestly a 17mph wind and the temp was in the very low 60s (F), but in my defense I was dressed to be indoors — in a short-sleeved sweater and a thin jacket — and we were out there from 9pm to 2am).  I couldn’t feel my fngers even if I’d wanted to scribble on napkins and hope they didn’t blow away.

Normally, I write on a laptop.  When I get new inspiration, though, I usually want to uproot the thing from its myriad cords and cool pads and external mice and etc. and take it out to the yard for a change of scenery.  Except I was transferring files to external hard drives.  (I’m telling you, my weekend was against me.)  So, I tried scribbling on paper.

I’ve had a thing for office supplies since I was a tiny tot drooling over markers and notebooks instead of Barbies, and all this really means is that I sometimes have to have the “right” pen for a job — nevermind how mundane the job — and sometimes the “right” paper or the “right” surface… and all these “right”s change periodically to keep me delightfully unbalanced.

The bottom line is, that I’ve managed to cover a measly sheet of notebook paper and I’m disappointed in myself.  My goal before bed: at least another sheet.