Writing Prompt: Jamaican Me Crazy


I’ve had a l-o-o-o-o-o-o-n-n-n-n-g day.

I didn’t really sleep well last night, not quite sure why, it just wasn’t happening and I woke up super early after I finally did pass out around 3am.

Given that Boston is in the grips or some sort of snowmaggedon or snowpocalypse or whatever the kids on Twitter are calling it, I was expected to go into work early to ensure we’d have the libraries open and ready and rarin’ to go in lieu of other staff members who wouldn’t be motivated able to make it in to work.

I did so and was at work prior to 7am.

The problem is, the snow never really got as bad as it was supposed to and this essentially just mean that I’d come into work much, much earlier than I had to and prepared two libraries for opening when the regular opening staff had no problem making it in.

Awesome. Simply, awesome.

The worst part? Well, I was slated to work until 8pm tonight, because Wednesdays are my late night—remember that stalkers—but luckily, my lovely co-worker Roshni bailed me out and offered to take my late shift.

As such, I made it out of there by 6:30—I’m a busy man, y’all—instead of 8pm and was able to substitute an 11 ½ hour day in lieu of a 13 hour day!


Anyway, all of that long-winded rambling was to say…it’s a writing prompt kinda day. As always, this one comes courtesy of the peeps at Plinky.com.

Write a haiku about something that drives you nuts.

As a consummate overachiever, I decided to write not one, not two, but seven…count’em seven…haikus about things that drive me crazy!

You can thank me later.

you are not my boss
stop micromanaging me
you annoying bitch

the twins are awesome
i don’t want to work anymore
the twins are awesome

i hate skateboarders
seriously they suck balls
big ole donkey balls

use your damn blinker
it is on your car for a
fucking reason, dick

chicken mcnuggets
taste like poop and shame, so why
can i not quit them

megan fox is hot
i cannot deny that fact
yet still she bores me

hummus is a very
cruel joke you play on someone
who wants some chip dip


Writing Prompt: Let’s Get Physical, Physical…

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It’s a Monday—which means it’s my Sunday—so I figure I’ll ease into the week with a writing prompt from the fine folks over at Plinky.com.

What does your fitness routine consist of?

My physical routine is generally quite boring and uneventful.

During the spring/summer/fall months I generally do nothing but play softball.

Last summer/fall, I was playing softball anywhere from two to four times a week. This had a pretty good impact on my endurance and overall physical well-being.

You might not think much of slow-pitch softball—and let’s be honest, you probably shouldn’t—but if you’re playing enough and you’re anything like me (read: hypercompetitive and a centerfielder) you’re likely to spend A LOT of time running.

I can honestly say that by the time my softball seasons finally wrapped up in mid-to-late October, I was in some of the best shape I’ve been in since high school.

Remember, high school? Remember when you had Phys. Ed. like three days a week and you couldn’t be a fatty unless you really worked at it (or had a glandular problem)?

Yeah…those were the days.

In high school, I looked like an anorexic 11-year-old cheerleader, but danged if I wasn’t in some solid shape. As I got older, I spent less and less time playing sports and found myself falling into considerably worse shape.

That’s why I decided that I needed to pay outlandish amounts of money for a gym membership. This was a HUGE waste of money when I lived in Southie, but now that I live a few blocks from the gym, it’s not so bad.

In fact, this is how I spend my winters attempting to stay “in shape.”

Basically, what I do is meander into the gym 3-4 times a week and sorta stare at all the equipment.

I move some things around until the bang and clank and I assume that means I’m working out. I run on the indoor track until my knees feel like they’re going to explode and then I go sit in a sauna and read the sports section of the paper for half an hour.

That’s pretty much the extent of what I’ve got for a physical fitness routine: softball in the spring/summer/fall and ill-fated attempts at gym-rattedness in the winter.

If you’ve got a better game-plan, lemme hear it in the comments…

Join the PTQ Team Today!!

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I’ve noticed a serious lack in output here at PTQ lately.

Technically, this is a good thing since the original intent of this entire blog was to get me and the two lovely ladies I write with back into the mix as regular bloggers at our own bitchin’ sites (links along the right hand column, y’all).

Things have been slow-going, but we’re definitely on the right path back to regular postingness.

I’ve attempted to recruit more writers for PTQ and the results have not been pretty. I know of at least half a dozen bloggers who are damn good writers, but have fallen off the wagon (or are back on the wagon—I can never keep it straight) in terms of their own blogging.

I have invited all of those peeps and I’ve heavily pimped PTQ to them as well. Thus far, we’ve gained one new blogger, my brother. He’s written sporadically—granted, we’ve all written sporadically—as he is just now joining the world of writers/bloggers/journalers/ranters/etc.

I’m very proud to have him not only in the mix here at PTQ, but writing in general. I’ve long been a writing pimp and tried to get anyone and everyone on the bandwagon, because—and let’s be honest here folks—writing is effing awesome.

If you’re mad; you can write about it. If you’re happy; you can write about it. If you’re in love with a zebra; there’s a whole separate section of the internet for you, but you can sure as hell write about it—likely under a pseudonym.

I’m all about writing.

My efforts here have waned considerably from posting everyday to posting once or twice a week at best. I’m down with that. It means that my own blogs are slowly (but surely) working their way back into shape.

I’m still busy out of my mind at work and in my personal life, but I really—REALLY—want nothing more in my life than to write. I think I’ve got a knack for it and I’m fairly personable in the sense that my writing often sounds exactly like the way I speak.

As such, it’s not too hard to picture yourself drinking a beer and listening to me ramble on, yet all the while I’m sitting across the world pounding on some keys and—well—drinking a beer.

Anyway, this has gotten really long-winded ( likely because I’m actually drinking whiskey and not beer tonight ) but the long and short of it is that we need some new writers here at PTQ to keep this enterprise going.

If you—or someone you know—wants to write more or needs an outlet, let me know, this is the place for you.

PTQ is meant to get writers writing.

Let me know if you need that push.

Writing Prompt: A Picture is Worth One Gigantic Smile


I’d really hoped to get more blogging done today, but between pounding out the epic year-end recap to my “Cheeseburger Chronicles”, writing yet another entry in the “A Moment with Grace” series and updating some stuff at my fantasy baseball blog…time just sort of got away from me.

As such, y’all are getting another writing prompt courtesy of Plinky.com.

Share a photo of something that makes you smile.

I think I love this photo so much because we weren’t even aware a photo was being taken at the time. Grace and I have been together for more than eight years now and I still get all giddy and nervous around her like she’s some sort of high school crush.

I dig this.

I dig this a lot.

My hope is that it’ll always be like this and you’ll be able to randomly snap a photo of us 50 years from now and we’ll still be grabbing at each others’ asses blissfully unaware that anyone is paying any attention to us.

Photo Evidence: Al Davis is a Zombie

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I know, right?!

I probably should have prefaced this post with some sort of warning about hiding the children and keeping an empty trashcan nearby, you know, just in case. Unfortunately, I did not and now you’ve all been privy to my photographic evidence that Al Davis, owner/dictator of the Oakland Raiders, is–unquestionably–a freakin’ zombie!!

Seriously, take another long, hard look at all-o-that.

Do you wanna try and refute my statement?

I didn’t think so.

I’m sorry I didn’t have any sort of “real” post in me today, but when I stumbled upon this photo, I just figured the world should be made aware that the dead do, in fact, walk among us.

Lock your doors and draw the shades, y’all…because Al Davis could be peepin’ in your windows right now.

Sleep tight.

Writing Prompt: Bad for Business

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It’s been a few days since I posted here at PTQ and that figures to be the norm whilst I work on fazing myself out of the regular writing crew here.

I did, however, figure that I should post a little something and thus I’ve gone with a writing prompt from the fine folks at Plinky.com.

Have you ever thought about starting your own business?

I thought for a brief period of time that I could somehow start my own website and offer fantasy baseball consulting.

Logic eventually set in and I remembered that there are roughly 30,000 websites out there that offer fantasy baseball advice, tips, tricks and strategies for absolutely no cost whatsoever.

Needless to say, it wasn’t going to be the bountiful business venture I’d once dreamed. It turns out that people have absolutely zero incentive to pay some random dude with questionable facial hair for baseball advice when they can get the same basic advice—or at least just advice—for free elsewhere.

It’s the old “why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free” thing and let’s be honest, it makes perfect sense. I mean seriously, I’m a pretty competitive fantasy baseballerizer and I’d never pay some schmuck for fantasy baseball advice because I know that I know more than 90% of the peeps out there.

I assume any fantasy baseballer worth their salt feels the same way. That having been said, to think it’s worth not only asking for but paying for someone else’s advice is straight up poppycock.

So yeah, my fantasy baseball consulting business hasn’t really gotten off the ground floor and doesn’t really figure to anytime in the near future.

I guess I’ll have to go back to my other game plan of releasing a line of zombie apocalypse preparation-themed workout DVDs.

Writing Prompt: Mix It Up

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I realize I haven’t exactly committed to posting everyday here at PTQ as a I work on phasing out and (hopefully) bringing in some new writers in need of a kick-start, but I just felt like I should at least make a post-a-day for my first week back in the swing of things.

With that in mind, I’m going to an old standby here today, a writing prompt from the fine folks at Plinky.com.

Name three songs you’d put on a road trip mix tape.

In an effort to make this as realistic as possible, I’ve only included songs that were actually featured on mix tapes and burnt CDs back when I was regularly driving. It doesn’t seem fair to toss in a bunch of Taylor Swift, Carrie Underwood or Glee songs, because I’ve never really road tripped to ‘em.

As such, here are three songs that were constantly on repeat back in my driving days:

Don’t Stop Believin’” by Journey

Since high school, “Don’t Stop Believin'” has served as the unofficial anthem or soundtrack to the lives of me and my best friends. We used to listen to this song while cruising around our dinky hometown and talking about the future and it’s served us all well as a reminder to keep believin’ there’s more out there for us, no matter how bad things can get some times. Also, Steve Motherf’n Perry!

Hanging By a Moment” by Lifehouse

Back in high school when I used to burn a new CD nearly every two or three days (remember CDs?) this song always seemed to find its way into the mix. I’ve always liked this song and I find it always pumps me up, no matter what kind of day I’m having. My friends and I started playing a guessing game with my mixed CDs to see what song would be next—my CDs tended to vary widely in genre—and this song was generally the safest bet of the bunch.

Why Part 2” by Collective Soul

This song rules. Period. Every time this song comes on in the car, I find my right foot getting a lot heavier and–even though I drive an automatic–an overwhelming urge to shift gears and slalom through traffic takes over. As such, it pretty much HAD to make the cut.

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