Say what you want.... as long as you dont hurt my feelingss

Okay so myself and some friends were talking and one of them mentioned the comment Hank Jr. made about Obama. Now, I don't know exactly what was said because I don't follow things like that closely, in fact I really don't care. But here is my question, what happened to freedom of speech? Seriously, isn't the whole point in freedom of speech that you can say really messed up stuff, even if your a public figure, without fearing losing your job and other types of  retribution. Personally if I were Obama, I would go on T.V. With Hank Jr. and make a commercial that criticizes ESPN's decision to pull Hank Jr. from Monday night football. If anyone should press for the right of freedom of speech it should be the president of the United States

 Hi people working on a new short story, Its coming together rather nicely I'm going to post it on smashwords as soon as it's finished. This one will be completely free so don't worry about coupon codes and stuff like that.  I havent had any new or insightful thoughts today because something is wrong with my back. I'm not sure why but it hurts like the devil, that makes concentrating pretty difficult.
I did have an idea the other day though that might interest the ladies.
 It seems to me that no matter what we do men and women cant seem to get together on any subject. Mainly its because our minds work so differently, so if you cant quite seem to understand the men in your life ladies ask me questions and I will do my best to answer them.
for example
 When I come home from work my girlfriend say Hi, how was your day?
Answer:  It was okay
Or
Hi what did you do today
Answer: Went to work, same old same old.
   Now, in retrospect I understand that she was actually inviting me to give a full account of everything I did that day, including if I used regular or light mayo on my BLT but that is not the way a mans mind work's, at least usually. We are simply short and to the point. You ask a question you get an answer, you normally aren't going to get a long drawn out account of our activities unless something really exciting happened or we are really mad. If you want that sort of conversation try this.
  Hi (add the name of your favorite man) how was your day
Answer: It was ok
 Oh? That's good. Well today I ...
fill him in on your day, but keep it short and sweet, remember men=short attention span for conversation
if you hit on something that interests him, or reminds him of some event in his day he will start talking. Don't interrupt him, pay attention and let him know your really interested. Eventually he will start talking more often

short excerpt from my book

Mother!” the young man called into the empty sleeping chambers. She had left his birthday party only moments ago, he had watched her as she slipped through the door. She’d looked very tired. This wasn’t surprising. The festivities had gone on all night, and custom dictated that they went on till the following morning. All of the party goers were supposed to stay until party’s end, but few actually held to that particular custom. The way the beer and wine flowed; few, if any ever could.

He glanced quickly around the rooms. Seeing that they truly were empty, he left them behind and began walking through the castle corridors, glancing into each room as he passed by, looking for his mother’s distinct red hair. It stood out like a fire in the night against all the dark brown and black hair that was more common to the southern lands. In fact, other than her own fiery shade he’d never seen a person with light colored hair. His own was dark, like his fathers. He’d taken most traits back after his father; a tall man, lean and muscular. Even at fourteen, the young man had the lean hard muscles of a sword fighter. Which he was, he had trained from the time he could walk to handle a sword, and many other weapons. Even his hands, quick and skilled at many things, were deadly weapons in the right situation.

But these things were not present in his mind as his long legs propelled him through the castle corridors; instead he focused on the source less dread that filled him. Something in her eyes, as she slipped through the door beckoned to him. He’d have followed immediately, had a very drunken friend of his father’s not had him by the arm, regaling him with stories of adventure past.

After what seemed an eternity though the man slipped into drunken mutters and the young man managed to break away without giving offense. He now regretted those few moments. Something inside him said that such a short time, in the wrong circumstances, had brought about more than one disaster. His leg’s sped up; he was running now, and no longer pausing to look into rooms, just a quick glance as he passed by.

There were so many rooms, why did the damned castle have to be so big? Room after room, corridor after corridor, he ran.  He Pushed his body for more speed, coaxing his muscles for just a little more.  The dread he had been feeling had increased to panic. Something, he didn’t know what, but something was horribly wrong. 

Finally after what seemed days, he realized that his mother was not on any of the main floor, and the castle had hundreds of rooms, spread across its four floors, not to mention the four towers one on each point of the compass. 

Suddenly he knew exactly where she would be.  Every morning, just before sunrise, she traversed the long staircase of the east tower to stare into the still pre-dawn.  

He knew this was her routine because it was also where he trained in weaponry. “Why,” he had asked her one morning as he passed her by on the stairs, “do you come here every morning?”

“Because” she said as she knelt down to look into his eyes, “The time, just before the sunrise, is when all the night animals are going to bed, and all the day animals are still in bed, the world is always at peace then and always beautiful. The next morning, he woke up extra early, and walked the long tower stairs with his mother. He stood quietly looking across the familiar landscape and holding his mother hand.

“Do you understand now? She asked him, as she turned away from the window. He smiled and shrugged embarrassedly, its ok I guess. But if you like it, I’m sure it’s very pretty.

Her laughter filled the room, like falling flower blossoms.  “Sometimes, old women forget, that young boys don’t see things the way they do. But yes my love, it is very pretty for me.” “Well, if you like it, then I do too.” She kissed him gently on the cheek, and made her way down the stairs.

He’d made a point from then on to spend one morning a week standing in the tower with his mother. She shared many thoughts with him there, and taught him many things, that only a mother could teach her son.  Ideas like kindness, compassion, and understanding. Which, she seemed to feel was most important to teach in a room dedicated to war and death. He mulled these things over as he ascended the stairs. His long strides taking two at a time, but with two- hundred and fifty steps, he had counted once, it was still a long way. By the time he stood in front of the huge oak doors, he was completely out of breath and panting.

He stood for a moment and allowed his breathing, and heart rate to slow. When the pounding in his ears cleared, he realized that he could hear voices.  This should have been impossible, the door was three inches thick, and enchanted against eves droppers.

He could only hear a low distinct mummer, but that meant someone was being very loud.       

He opened the door a crack, the enchantment still held unless the door was thrown open wide, but he could understand a little better. He heard his mother’s voice, the words were still low and indistinct, but it was obvious she was pleading with someone, and she seemed to be kneeling. He could see her feet and legs sticking out behind her. He could also hear another voice, it seemed to be singing, and the voice seemed familiar to him. But he could not place it “Mother?” he said as he opened the door wider.

“What are you...” the words fell dead in his mouth, as she turned to him. The fear in her eyes left him dumb struck. She reached a plaintive hand out to him, “Joseph, no, you must....” her words fell silent, as a sword came into view.  Then, her head disappeared, and the lifeless body slumped over and fell to the floor. Joseph heard a double thump as her body struck the wooden planks, and something heavy rolled against his foot. He looked down, into his mother’s lifeless eyes, the lids still blinking, the lips still moving. Still trying to tell him what it is that he must do. What was it, run, get help? He did not know, and it no longer mattered. All that mattered now was the deadly rage that he felt burning in side of him.

His mother, the woman who had guided him gently through life, was gone from him, ripped from his life for all of eternity. He knelt slowly and took a lock of her red hair between his fingers. The fire seemed to fade from it immediately. He stared for what seemed an eternity at the hair he would never again feel touch his shoulder when she kissed him good night. When a sudden movement broke him free of the spell he looked up into the face of a man he’d known his whole life, a man he had trusted and loved. It was now the face of a stranger, a murderer, a monster. “You,” he whispered, hatred seething in the word. “How could you do this?”  He slowly stood, feeling the rage surge forward. How could you?” He screamed as he raced into the room on the balls of his feet, his fists landing blows to the monsters short ribs as soon as he was in reach.

The grunts of pain only increased Joseph’s blood lust.  The feeling of a rib cracking drove him mad with desire, he wanted to feel more, to see the life blood drain from this creature.

         

In the midst of the fury, he brought his open palm up, towards the creature’s nose. He could already feel the cartilage cracking as it broke away, and the sharp bone piercing the creature’s brain. This was a killing blow. He could see the creatures death throws in his mind’s eye. But at the moment of impact, his hand simply whistled through air. No one stood there.

             Suddenly the world was a blur. He looked around, he was still in the tower, and seemed to be setting against the single wall that enclosed the circular room.  “What happened?” then the pain in his head hit. He then remember the feeling of flying through the air, and hitting his head. “Was I knocked out?” As he raised himself to his knees, he looked around the room apparently only a few seconds had passed. 

“A weapon, I need a weapon.” He looked around the room, the walls were lined with weapons, but all were under lock and key. Given time he could break the locks, but time was the one thing he didn’t have. He began to cast around for something else, anything, when he felt the sudden pressure on the boundaries around his mind. He fought to reinforce them, but it was too late and the defenses on his mind too weak at the moment to put up a struggle.

    “So boy” raged the familiar voice in his mind. “You would kill me?  Are you so eager to become a man? Joseph fought to ignore the invasive presence.  His mind felt as if it were tearing itself apart in the process.

“ANSWER ME!” The sheer intensity of the last sending sent Joseph reeling across the floor. For a moment the fog returned to the world, when it cleared, he found himself staring at the ceiling, flat on his back. He still felt the alien presence in his mind. The rage was cooled somewhat now though “when I ask a question you must answer, or expect to be punished.”

He managed to ignore the words completely now, with very little effort, because he had just felt something very familiar. Soft worn leather, like that used to wrap the hilts of swords. He’d felt such leather many times in his life. He grasped the hilt tightly and felt a surge of strength through his body. Immediately the presence left his mind. “Joseph,” the creature whispered cautiously, “put that down. It doesn’t belong to you; you aren’t ready for it yet.”  He reached his hand hesitantly towards Joseph, as if trying to calm a wild animal.      

  Joseph picked the sword up, and brought it before his eyes. It was very familiar to him. He’d seen this sword many time strapped to his father’s waist. “But why is it lying on the floor?” Then he remembered the metallic clang during his brief attack. The creature had used it to kill his mother. “Your right,” he whispered “it isn’t mine. But, it’s not yours either. This is my father’s sword, and my father is dead.”  At the utterance of these words a peculiar thing happened, the singing voice returned.

It filled the room, and a new strength surged through Joseph. Suddenly the creature looked stricken; Joseph stood slowly, and looked into the creature’s eyes. He was stronger now, much stronger, and had a weapon.

He could kill this unholy beast, he knew he could. But a voice, much like the singing voice that filled the room, cautioned him to wait, and now was not the time. He listened to the voice.  He had new strength, but was unsure how to use it. Slowly he edged around the room, keeping the creature at sword point. Which seemed pointless, the creature looked confused, unable to move anything but his head. Which tracked Joseph, or more likely the sword, around the room?

When Joseph’s back was to the door he began to slowly back through it. “I will come for you some day.” he said as he slammed the door and quickly barricaded it.

Running again, Joseph made his way quickly down the stairs and through the castle. He heard many voices calling after him to stop. Asking what was the matter; he simply ignored them and continued running. After a series of turns and short hallways he burst into the main room filled with party goers, In front of him stood the drunken story teller. His abrupt entrance had snapped the man to a semblance of sobriety.

      “Joseph, my boy, what’s got you in such a huff?” Instead of answering he ran to the door across the room and burst through it. But as the door slammed open he heard a question that brought him to a pause, “Where are you running to?” the drunken man called to his retreating back. “Where am I running to?” Joseph whispered.

        Turning he took stock of exactly where he stood, and compared it to the mental map of the castle in his head. Then an idea occurred to him. He began running again.  After a labyrinthine series of turns, twists, and stair cases he burst through yet another door. This one leading to an exterior square, across the small cobbled square stood the castle stables.

He quickly crossed the open space and into the building. The smell of horse flesh and clean hay hit him like a wall.

The stables had always been a place of joy for him, he loved the horses, and the old stable master was always patient with him whenever he asked questions, such as the time he’d told a hand to clean up some droppings, and after an hour, when the job wasn’t done, he immediately fired the man.

Joseph witnessed the dismissal, and when the hand left the premises asked about the dismissal. It seemed an overreaction to Joseph as the stables were always immaculately clean, far cleaner than those in the town which always held an underlying stench of manure and urine. 

The old man smiled wisely and said “Well, the fact is, clean stables means healthy animals, and you father owns the best horse flesh in the region. So I have to keep them extra healthy. So, when I tell a man to clean something, I mean now. If he can’t do that then what use do I have for him? Do you understand now?” Joseph nodded, thinking that he really did understand. “Good then,” the man said with a nod, “Now off with you, I’m a busy man.”

As Joseph entered, thinking of this, it reminded him to look around and make sure all was clear, it was.

He quickly made his way to his little pony, Krace, he was already saddled for his morning ride. “Quietly now Krace,” Joseph whispered in the horse’s ear. He had seemed to pick up on his master’s nervousness, when Joseph mounted him he began whinny and prance. Though, with a few soothing words he settled quickly.

Joseph rode the horse through the tall stable doors. As he exited an old servant opened the door across the court yard. “Master Joseph, what is going on? People are searching the entire castle for you. They say there was some kind of up roar. He squinted and the roll behind Joseph’s saddle, where he had tucked away the sword.

When the old man realized what it was he was looking at his face turned pale, “Oh my, oh Joseph, what are you doing with that? You get down off that horse this instant and put that where it belongs!” Sounding far too much like a mother hen, even for his own taste by the sour look on his face, the old man reached for Joseph.

Quickly, before the old man could touch him Joseph heeled the horse into full gallop. Krace’s withers brushed the elderly servant and knocked him to the cobblestones with a cry of pain.      

Guilt surged through Joseph but was easily overpowered by his sense of panic as he aimed Krace at the small service gate that opened to the road that led to the town below.

Marl, stood at one of the many windows in the east tower watching as Joseph dust trail slowly faded. He still felt in shock over what he had just seen. The sword, or rather the sword’s magic, had accepted the boy, however provisionally. The sword was not fully his yet but still, he never should have been able to hold it more than a few seconds. Much less wield its power. Marl felt a twinge of fear as he tried to understand what this might mean. There was little he could think of that did not lead to disaster.

want more? go to http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/93494  and if you email me and promise to leave a review ill send you a promo code for a free download

Dutch Harbor life

  Yea, I'm in Dutch Harbor, that the place the boats unload in the deadliest catch. Life here is pretty slow, the town is small but it is fairly rich in history. You would think there would be a good deal more tourism since the airing of The Deadliest Catch, but the people seem to have failed to cash in on their stardom. Its basically a fishing town with a few canneries and a lot of boats. Personally I would love to purchase some land here and push a little for some tourism. There is so much here people would love to see. The wildlife is great, the place is full of bald eagles and Alaskan fox's. Not to mention all of the seals that like visit the bay and even the occasional whale. Unfortunately I haven't caught site of one yet. I spend most of my time at work processing fish or working on one of my other interests. Oh, and the vews here are amazing, the place is mostly mountainous terrain, with fairly gentle assents when you get to the top it seems like you can see forever.
  Basically life is slow here, and the place is beautiful if you have the eye to see it. If you get the chance, visit, if you don't get the chance, well sometimes you have to make opportunities happen

Up and Coming author

  Yep, that's right I'm an up and coming writer. So of course your gonna see some things about my book occasionally I will post an up date on the publishing and distribution process where it can be found, what e-readers its available on and occasionally I will offer a promo deal like the one I have for today. click the linkhttp://www.smashwords.com/books/view/93494
and enter the promo code YR67Q in the coupon box in the check out screen for a 10% discount. Now bare in mind that's 10% off of a $5.00 book, so your saving on what is already a great deal.
  But, I am also a devout christian with a lot of time to think so I will also be posting my thoughts on god. You don't have to agree with me, most of the time I'm just spit-balling anyway trying to get people to think. So if you don't agree that's fine, but at least think a little about what I'm saying. Oh yea, before i forget, if you do down load the book please leave a review. As I said, I'm a new independent author, in other words I'm completely unknown, so every download and every review moves my work further to the top of the list on the smashwords.com website which makes my work more easily found.