I was a bit upset with myself because I did not make any progress on THE BOOK this weekend.  My goal is to get approximately 1,000 words a day.

I’m back in the groove now, player.  Last night I finished Chapter 5 of Section 1 of THE BOOK.  Currently, I am at 7,500 words.  I really like what is spilling out of my head.
 
As previously noted, I have been submitting my work to Jess piecemeal.  So far, she has given me some really good feedback.

Now, I need some suggestions.  Typically when I am writing for TSAT, I end up jamming to something with a beat like “AWESOME VOLUME 1″ my mega-super-silly-fly-dope iPod playlist of old school and new school rap.  Granted, said playlist rules faces, but it just doesn’t work for THE BOOK.  I need something instrumental for this endeavor, preferably with a bit of darkness. 

I’ve been listening to Danny Elfman’s score for Red Dragon.  It is perfect blend of subtle eeriness and good tempo.

I need recommendations for something in the same vein.  Hook a brother up.

- David C. Garcia

This afternoon, Brandon and I were outside talking with a friend who has a friend who holds a personal record of 33 meat-beatings in one day.  I was very impressed and said that while such a feat is hard to believe, I still think it is more plausible than say, cow-tipping.

I have consistently maintained my belief that cow-tipping is a load of shit.  Throughout my short and amazing life, I have known people who say they know people who know people who “do it all the time.”  These are the same people who believe in other ridiculousness like creationism and Carlos Mencia’s originality.

Another coworker promptly said, “I’ve been cow-tipping.”

Huh?  I have no reason to disbelieve said coworker.  Unlike everyone else who seems to peripherally know of cow-tipping, this person seemed to have first-hand knowledge.  Still, I have never seen a cow tipped and have read numerous articles on the nearly physical impossibility of such a feat.

So, co-worker invited Brandon and me on a cow-tipping adventure.  We graciously accepted — hey, you only live once, right?

So, I may be headed on my own little Mythbusters-like adventure.  I intend to find the drunkest cow with osteoporosis.  If I can’t take that meaty fucker down, then I doubt anyone will ever be able to EVER convince me cow-tipping is possible.

And if it does work, cool.  Don’t worry.  I plan to be totally humane and resourceful.  I’ll be bringing a chainsaw and stocking the fridge with fresh delicious meat.

Is this post tongue-in-cheek?  What do you think, Doogie?

- David C. Garcia

Markedly different from last week’s truth bomb, this week’s factual essay will drop-kick your funny bone but not make you feel bad about laughing at other people’s misery… Well except homeless people.  But they aren’t people, anyways.  Go read it, silly pants.

OF ALUMINUM TABS AND VICIOUS CIRCLES

Peace out, Paul Newman.  They just don’t make actors like you anymore.  In a world of Vince Vaughns and Owen Wilsons, you will be missed.  I’ll bet you can eat more hard-boiled eggs than anyone in the afterlife.

Except John Candy.  That dude can eat way more than anyone, dead or alive.

I am loving writing THE BOOK.  It’s delicious and flowing like beefy gravy.  Brandon and I have both shared our respective initial works with each other.  Our writing styles are substantially different.  His writing is far more structured and controlled than mine.  We were actually discussing this last night, and our own tones are perfectly illustrated in this example:

When I was describing my own writing tone I said, “I just write shit the way I speak” as Brandon simultaneously suggested, “You write colloquially.”  Bull’s-eye.

Anyways, Shortbus, writing is going well.  Jess Glass is being loaded up with my work as soon as I finish it.  Initially, I was going to send her my writing in periodic chunks, maybe every couple of weeks.  Because of the nature of the content, I am actually letting her chiggity-check it as soon as I hammer it out.  So far, she seems to dig it.

I have set up a word-count ticker on the side bar of this site and a “Book Progress” page.  Right now, the “Book Progress” page just has the current word count and a visual representation of my determination.  I may include more information on this page as events warrant.

War is cool.

- David C. Garcia

I’ve sort of mentioned plans for it in previous posts during the past year, but let’s make it official:

I AM WRITING A BOOK

This was also noted in Brandon’s blog this weekend when he announced his own plans for a literary adventure.  I’ve seen what he plans to write, and I am sure it will be great.  Actually, if he sticks to his guns, I am CERTAIN, it will be great.   That’s all I am saying about that.

With respect to my own book, this is something I’ve wanted to for a while.  I am absolutely excited.  Unlike Brandon who vaguely mentioned what his book will be about, I am not going to elaborate on my book at all.  At least not yet.  A handful of you all may have some idea what I will be writing.  Even smaller handfuls (like a midget’s handful) know exactly what I am writing.

Here’s what I will tell you:

• I will get published.  I say this because I am confident in my capability, creativity and drive to make something great.  But of equal importance I also need to make what I want to happen actually happen.  Self-assurance is relevant in this matter.

• Brandon has taken a look at my outline and has given his approval.  Whether or not he knows it, this actually means a lot to me.  I respect his insight, honesty and eye for creativity.

• Jess Glass has volunteered to serve as the editor for my book.  I am 100% confident in her crazy, mad English skills and also know she will not bullshit me.  This means a lot.  And, when I get published, she will get the credit she deserves.

• As of right now, I have a brief introductory introduction and an outline.  Tonight is when the book starts.  I am shooting for 1,000 to 2,000 words per day and hope to have a first rough draft in January 2009.  It may be later.  It may be sooner.  Who knows?

• Like Brandon, I plan to keep a word count tracker posted on this site.  If anything, I am doing this to keep both Brandon and myself fully motivated.  Check back, if you care to because I may also slip updates on my site.

You know you are excited.

- David C. Garcia

If you haven’t checked the most recent post at www.thesestoriesaretrue.com, then do it now.  But first:

This is probably the most depraved essay Brandon and I have written yet.  I have a fairly high tolerance for shock and am more fascinated with the macabre and morbid than most people I know.  That being said, this last post took it out of Brandon and me.  Mid-essay, Brandon suggested a “soul shower” would be refreshing afterward.  Well said.  After the four-hour brainstorming and writing session, I was mentally exhausted and questioning whether my anti-depressants were expired.  Nevertheless, I am really happy with how the essay turned out and have already received a lot of very positive feedback on its quality.  So be warned.  If you are easily offended, this is not the post for you.  If you can put your morality on hold, chiggity check:

WE PITCH A THEME RESTAURANT

- David C. Garcia

I was dragging this morning afternoon after I woke up.  My coffee and a brief commentary from one of my favorite comedians, Doug Stanhope, just perked me up. 

Doug Stanhope on Sarah Palin (and her baby):

Side note: I am not for or against Sarah Palin.

**NOTE: Don’t read any further if you are easily offended.**

I am pro-abortion.

And you all say:

What?  Huh?  NO WAY!  You didn’t.  Not the honeymoon baby!

No.  To the best of my knowledge, there is no honeymoon baby, and thus no honeymoon fetus on a coat-hanger.  I just felt I have been blogging boring lately.  As much as you all love my blog, I seriously doubt you find much pleasure in how much I ate over the past three weeks of honeymooning and weddinging (real word) or what kinds of scenic locales I visited in the northeast.*

So, I decided to get back to blogging in true David form.  And dear David usually blogs about being a former booze hound, videogames and  retards.  Not usually abortions, right?  Right.  Well, with respect to the mentally unfit, I found I was overplaying “the retard card” lately, and neglecting the abortion card.**

So there you go — abortions mentioned ever so casually, and David is back!

But, seriously: abortions.  After seeing the amount of retards…Oops, I mean Bostonians driving like idiots in MA, I have come to the conclusion that abortions should be encouraged and more widespread.  There are far too many cretins out on the roads, and maybe if we were a bit more proactive, there would be less ingrates driving around.  There’s only one way to find out: abortions.  Ladies, do what you need to do, but stop those little webbed-footed critters before they rip from your uteri and grow up to be shitty drivers.  We’ll go ahead and wait 16, years, and if there are less bad drivers, we will know my completely well-thought-out plan worked.  Then again, there would be nothing but old people drivers left…

So I guess I am also pro-euthanasia.

And, I won’t just bust on you assholes in New England.  Today, Meggie and I were driving around in Fredericksburg, and some middle-aged guy ran a red light.  How?  Why?  HE WAS TEXTING WHILE DRIVING!  Jesus Christ.  I need to get my time machine fixed, travel back 45 years and feed his mother some Pennyroyal followed by a swift trip down the flight of stairs.  Retroactive abortion!

—

And there you go.  All out of my system.  All vacuumed out like a…Well, you get it.

So, I am delighted to be back.  I am happy to head into more TSAT with Brandon.  I am happy to be back and writing.  I am happy to be back writing on something other than my Blackberry Curve (shameless).  I am also thrilled to be heading into my most daunting writing project yet:  The B-word.

Welcome home, David!

—

And a few extra tidbits:

My newest tattoo is awesome.

Soon, I will now be moving forward into full, right-arm sleeve.

Also, I have decided to set up a new category of exceptionally funny text/IM conversations I have had.  You, know, like THIS GEM.  All of them should be taken with a grain of salt.  Here’s the most recent featuring Brandon and me:

David: We [Brandon, Carmen, Meggie and me] need to take a weekend trip to Salem.  Like a four-day weekend.

Brandon: Alrighty.

David: Are you Downs?

Brandon: Like a Palin baby.

David: Yeah, but way more Downs.  Like a Palin baby but black.

Brandon: Like black Palin Siamese twins.

David:  Like that.  And with Thalidomide deformities and a Flavor Flav edge.

Brandon: Perfect.

———————————————-
*If you do care to know.  I ate A LOT, and visited A LOTter.

** The abortion card, if you are interested, is given at clinics.  It’s like a reward card found at most major retailers.  Get five abortions, and the next one is on the house.  True story.

Meggie and I are having tons of fun, but we really miss our pets. I have been texting Brandon’s face off with requests on the status of my pup. I think Meggie and I are getting a bit homesick. We want to be back with our friends and animals.

And speaking of tons of fun, I need to do some serious exercise when I get back - like 10,000 serious exercises. In the past two weeks, I think I’ve eaten enough food to feed an entire African… An entire Africa. I’ve definitely slopped on a few extra pounds since I last made fun of the extra weight I’m packing. I mean, I’m not gross, Michael Moore fat or anything. I can still see…you know…Mexcalibur (ahem) when I shower. Nevertheless, it’s time to get on some exercising. Treadmill, watch yourself. When I get home, I am going to violate the shit out of you.

Oh, yeah. I got a new tattoo. The pics are on my Facebook. I’ll post them when I get to an actual computer.

I am also excited to getting back to some serious writing. I really want to pleasure the hell out of all you with my contributing wit on TSAT. Brandon has been awesome solo, but this is a groupfuckingeffort (real word). I also want to get back to some writing work of my own. Big stuff.

Hi-ooooooo!

- David C. Garcia