Friday, December 31, 2010

Launching 2011 in the Lair

    by Nancy

    Happy New Year!!!

    Part of me can't believe we're already in 2011. I remember when that seemed soooo very far away, and now here it is. We're going to have a great year in the Lair, with lots of fabulous guests already set to join us.

    I hope it will be a terrific year for everyone. My fingers are perpetually crossed that the AYUs among the banditas and our buddies make the leap to publication this year and our APs climb the lists. Our Suz, aka Suzanne Ferrell, will debut this year, so stay tuned for details on the celebration.

    I'm looking forward to the completion of the Harry Potter film saga and am glad the movie will come out before the boy leaves home. Our family saw that series begin together, and we'll finish it together.

    I'm also looking forward to the boy going off to college, in a way. We'll miss him terribly, and thinking about his being gone far away makes my heart hurt, but it's such a milestone for him, a big step into adulthood.

    RWA National will be in the capital of publishing, New York City, with lots to see and do in addition to having face time with scattered friends and learning about the business. I always enjoy New York.

    I'm anticipating DragonCon, as always. That's the "let it all hang out" weekend for me, and the dh is getting into the swing. It will be strange without the boy, though.

    To help launch this year in the Lair with plenty of boom, we have a wonderful lineup for January. To start, of course, so many of us and y'all are here today, some of us taking a short break from various football games on TV and others of us seeking refuge from them. There's a lot of noise coming from the gladiator villa, I noticed. Lots of yelling, both enthused and curse-laden. They seem to get seriously into watching burly men crashing into each other.

    Our first guest of 2011, Stephanie Dray, will join us on January 3 to talk about her new YA historical fiction debut, Lily of the Nile, with Christie.

    Anybody besides me notice that the ancient world seems to be very popular in YA these days? Anyone besides me read Mara, Daughter of the Nile as a young adult?

    January 4 brings Sandy Blair back to chat with Suz. A great friend of the Bandits, Sandy is bringing us another Scottish tale in the THE MAMMOTH BOOK OF SCOTTISH ROMANCE. Her story is titled Her MacKinnon.

    On Thursday, 6th January, Anna Campbell hosts historical author Beverley Kendall who will be talking about her fabulous new Regency A TASTE OF DESIRE. Bev runs the popular website The Season and she’s terrifically supportive of her fellow writers – we’re looking forward to giving her a big rambunctious Bandita welcome when she visits. More prizes!

    On January 7 Aunty Cindy brings her good buddy Marie Force back to the Lair to celebrate the release of the second book in her romantic suspense series: Fatal Justice. Don't miss the fun and prizes!

    On January 8, Jennifer St. Giles's alter ego, J. L. Saint, chats with Nancy about her romantic thriller, Collateral Damage. This the first in the Silent Warrior series.

    On Monday, 10th January, Maggie Robinson/Margaret Rowe returns to the lair as Anna Campbell’s guest to talk about her wonderful new release MISTRESS BY MIDNIGHT. Maggie is lots of fun and we had a great day last time she visited the lair to discuss her debut historical MISTRESS BY MISTAKE. This should be a great day too – with prizes!

    On January 11 we're thrilled to have Regency historical romance writer and Word Wench Cara Elliott with us to chat about her sexy February release, TO TEMPT A RAKE.

    The middle of the month will be just us banditas and our usual coterie of cabana boys and gladiators and hockey hunks. And the dragon, who made out very well during the holidays.

    We can't give you details because those are classified, but I can tell you Christmas Eve was a very near thing for a certain reindeer. Santa refuses to visit the Lair again unless he has a special landing site away from certain flight-capable residents.

    On January 21, NYT Bestseller and Writer Beware co-founder A. C. Crispin joins Nancy to discuss the pitfalls writers should avoid as they dive back into their work during the New Year.

    On January 27, Kate will host Hannah Dennison, author of the Vicky Hill English Village mysteries, who will seek Bandita advice on how poor Vicky might find the right man and cast off her virginity once and for all.

    If the banditas can't help Vicky, I'm sure the gladiators, hockey hunks and cabana boys will have some advice (No, Paolo, she's not looking for volunteers from the Lair. Yes, I'm sure.).

    January 30 is a very special launch party as Tawny celebrates the release of her 10th book, Breaking the Rules. I'm allowed to say it's a Uniformly Hot Book about a battle of wills between a soldier home from Afghanistan and his best friend's kid sister. There will be what Tawny describes as "major prizes," as well as more details about the book.

    On January 31, Kate will host fabulous new author Regan Hastings, whose fiery VISIONS OF MAGIC promises to be the hottest book on the shelves! Who is Regan Hastings? Come get the scoop!

    In bandita news, we have the following:

    Anna Campbell is running a Backlist Bounty for the New Year contest until the end of January. Ten lucky people get their choice of one of Anna’s current books, CLAIMING THE COURTESAN, UNTOUCHED, TEMPT THE DEVIL, CAPTIVE OF SIN or MY RECKLESS SURRENDER. Just email her on and tell her which book you’d like and why.

    For more information, please visit the contest page of her website:

    What are you looking forward to in 2011? What book you read or movie you saw in 2010 was your favorite, and why?Source URL:
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Money Back Without a Purchase

    I am indeed a Fortunate Son.

    Things go really bad for me sometimes, and I can take it on the chin. But when I'm in a depression, I am fucked up really bad. For no apparent reason. I may have one, but it's going to take some medical help to bring it to the fore. Until then I have to just hope for happiness in the future. It's at times like this that I am suddenly made aware of the fact that I'm a Fortunate Son. If I just look at my surroundings I can really be appreciative of where I came from and where I could go. I'm a million percent better than I was three years ago and a billion percent better than four. I'm doing great. It's just that when the dark hood of depression looms in, it's just meaningless. I don't see anything worthwhile to live for. It's truly like wearing black shades over your eyes.

    Being bi-polar sucks. I'm either manic or depressed. Not much in between. I can live in both worlds though, quite easily. I mean, I have to, right? However, wouldn't it be great to be just normal and not...well not me? The Fortunate Son. I split out the room this afternoon. I had a lot to do. Prescriptions and what not.

    On my way out I see Dr. G. and we talk about my drugs. I'm low on Welbutrin, the anti- depres- sant. She wants to drop the dosage. Wow, how will that work. No more depression? I like that idea. I'd rather be hyper than depressed any day. The other just isn't any fucking fun.

    She writes me out a new prescrip- tion for a lower dose. I take it and walk up the street to Duane Reade to drop it off. Then up to Radio Shack to get a new ink cartridge for my printer. As I'm walking a man comes right at me. I stop, focus and it's Ivan. He stops me cold in the middle of the block. "Hey Hobobob, thank you so much for putting only two of us on the router. Now I can stream movies better because the guy next to me kept using firewire, and now he's off the bandwith."

    "Well you're welcome, Ivan. any time," besides he and I are the custodians of the connection. Why share it with people that don't even look around and say: Where's all this FREE Internet coming from?" In fact though, they know. I put a sign downstairs on the bulletin board when I ran out of money one month and wanted to let others share in getting the Internet back up in the building. Can you believe that once they found out it was me they claimed to have their own Internet connections. So basically all the crows on the floor were claiming that they never use the Internet connection that I supply so donating was not necessary. Even the letter on the bulletin board downstairs was removed. These stupid bitches.

    What these lying tarts don't realize is that this is the computer age. I just went to the router, brought up the DHCP table and it told me the computer name and MAC address of every system attached to my wireless frequency. And there those blood sucking bitches were. Every last fucking one of them. Plus seven more! Thirteen of those sons-a-bitches, and have the temerity to tell me that they don't use my Internet. Ooooookay.

    The miracle that saved them for several more months was Ivan. He came upstairs, because he serioiusly needs the Internet in his room and paid the entire bill straight out, giving ME a month of free Internet. Call me a Fortunate Son! So since I got the Internet for free, I piped it to all of those lying ingrates out of the goodness of my heart.

    Then I heard them one day asking the other how do you fix email, because she could not get on the Internet to check it. I had already, by this time, cut the users able to connect to my router in half. This meant that there will now be waiting time if you are not one of the first few that can connect. And because some people like to stay on all day, like Moi, you can end up waiting all day. But now Ivan had asked me to cut the rest down and he would always be around to help me, financial or otherwise in keeping it up.

    I felt that this was a fair request, so I did it. Now the lying freeloaders had NO access to the router. None what so ever. Just the other day I heard one of the crows, Bat Faced Bitch, complain to Snow White that the Internet is harder and harder to get on and that she was going to get her own now. Snow White pointed out how this was bad news no doubt, but The Spot didn't supply the Internet at all. Tough break Bat Faced BIII-HATCH!!! I laugh at you now!

    I didn't want to stick my head into the office and tell Snow, "Fuck this crusty assed bitch. She knows damn well who and why she isn't getting the Internet for free any more. Her freeloading ass deserves to have to pay for it now. Cough up the $50.00 that you used to use to have men spit at you. Piss enough in your reservoir baby, and pretty soon you'll be drinking pee. Or as my friend's mother used to put it: "Play pussy, get fucked.

    So, to cut this story short so as to move on. Ivan thanked me and was gone. So I went to Radio Shack and got my printer ink and stepped out of the store, and Ivan was standing there waiting for me. "What are you doing, Ivan? Following me?" "Naah," he said. "I'm going to walk with you home." I raise an eyebrow. "Ooookay," I said, heading back uptown. "What's the matter?"

    Ivan shook his head, "Nothing, nothing. I just wanted to ask you, do you have computer speakers?" I nod, "Yes I do, Ivan, why?"
    "Because I have a speaker system that I'm not going to use."
    "Oh wow I already have one for my computer." I had paid a good dollar for it too. Thirty Nine dollars in fact, and I was proud of my little speakers.
    "Well, I want you to take mine. It has five speakers and then a woofer!"
    What the Hell kind of monster sound system did Ivan buy? "What's wrong with it, Ivan?"
    He shook his head, "Nothing. It's just too many wires and my room is too small."
    "My room is the same size as your room."
    "Yeah, but you use your laptop like a desktop. I use mine on my bed, so it's uncomfortable with all of these wires going all around."
    "Oh really. Okay, so how much?"
    He frowned. "Why do you think I'm selling it to you?"
    "I don't know. I just thought you were."

    No, Ivan was giving it to me. I was stunned. We went upstairs and he burdened me with Four Speakers, a midrange, AND a woofer/Subwoofer and amp. "How the fuck much was this, Ivan?" He thought about it for a half minute, "around a hundred and fifty dollars. Something like that. "Shit Ivan, I don't know what to say."
    He piled the stuff into my arms "Here, just take it." Thanks.

    I lugged all that hardware upstairs and wired it up to my computer. When I plugged it in and hooked it up, it was amazing. Quad Stereo sound so life like that it sounds like the shit's in the room with you. I guess I was a good boy this year, because I got a Christmas present for a change. HO, HO, HO to you too Santa!

    Like I said, I am a Fortunate Son. However, there was one thing that was a problem. A certain speaker wire was missing to bring the Quad signal to the Stereo input of the computer. So I got four of the six speakers functioning and left for Radio Shack to see if I can find the parts in question. After going through the shelves and hooks on the wall of their audio cabling section a woman walks by. I call out to her. She stops, holds up her hand, "Hold on, I'll get someone here who can help you." That's good, for a minute there I thought you could do it since you're wearing a Radio Shack name pin.

    So I wait until a salesman comes and goes over the same hardware that I looked over. He pulls out a two prong Y connector. I need a THREE prong forked connector. "Sorry, that's been discontinued." That's great, thank you. "You know, you can go down to 86th street. There's a P.C. Richards down there and they have system cabling. I nod. Hey thank you. So I start my walk downtown, minding my own fucking business and oblivious to the world around me. Never do that shit in New York my friends because a cop will come from down the street and hand your head to you saying that they took it off some thief up the block running down the street. It was easy locating you. All they had to do was to look for an idiot walking through the city with NO FUCKING HEAD!

    I'm walking down the block and ahead of me are these two little upper class girls, talking all valley-girl-ish, although that shit went out in California when I was FUCKING THEM. They are loud, stupid and self centered. At first I didn't hear or notice them because they were yakking like wind up teeth. I thought some one was firing off a jack hammer somewhere. When I happened to notice the two of them walking ahead of me, I was already too late, the one on the left turned her head around, like Linda Blair in the Exorcist and looked at me up and down. Then she turned her head back around, whispering to her friend. Now I know that I broke my 'don't follow some bitch two blocks' rule'. In fact, these little bitchettes only allowed me a block before noticing me. Probably a shrunken perspective because of their ages.

    So after a block bitchette number one turns around then whispers to Bitchette number two who does the same Linda Blair bullshit, looking me up and down before returning to walking with her friend. They whisper for a moment and then break out in a brisk walk down the block in double time. I stop, too late. I'm slow on the uptake. They are half way down the block when they both do a Linda Blair, while I hoof it the other way, feeling guilty because now they'll suppose that I'm some sort of child molester. If there is a cop down on the end of the block they will no doubt report me for being such.

    Well I head for P.C. Richards, right across the street from where I stopped. So if the cops come looking for me, they had better do so fast before I vanish off the streets. Once inside of P.C. Richards I ask around and they too don't have what I need. I am pissed and return to Radio Shack. I have an idea. TWO Y connectors, attached to each other could step three connectors down to one. So I go back and buy two Y connectors, get home and fiddle with them until I get all Six speakers blasting. Ahhh, the joy!

    Well, with that being said, once everything was together it was after 9:00 pm. Which meant that I had to put my stupid headsets on. Well, I'll just have to wait for another day to enjoy the sound system.  I'm a very patient Fortunate Son.

    Happy New Year
    HobobobSource URL:
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A Friendly Message From Rahm Emanuel

    "Hi, I'm Rahm Emanuel and I have just been cleared by the Chicago Elections Board to be able to run for the Mayor's seat of Chicago even though I spent the past two years in Washington under the Obama Administration. I know that there were at least two dozen of those bitches on the Board that sided against my being on the ballot, but they were pussies and couldn't play Washington Hardball, baby. All I had to do was show them a one way ticket from New York to Chicago that I was going to mail to Hobobob to change their minds. And people have the nerve to say I'm not a fucking nice guy. I'm the most fuckinest nicest guy you'll ever meet, bitches."
    Source URL:
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Another Comment From Professor Maul

    "Heh, look at Hobobob acting all tough with one of his readers. Threatened to mark her as an unhappy customer. Don't be afraid of Hobobob's punk ass. He got all girlie when he watched Bitch Slap because he talked so much shit about women...remember? Hell, I watched that movie from behind my couch and I wasn't frightened like a little girl. I didn't cover my eyes as long as he did when I saw grown men torn to shreds by hot, sexy women. I'm not afraid of Bitches just because of that punk ass movie. Trust me.

    Oh, and another thing. You aren't a Bitch are you? 'Cuz if you are, my name is Hobobob!"Source URL:
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A Comment From A Satisfied Customer

    "Hello, my name is Mr. Mous Stache, and I'm an avid reader of your blog Hobobob, and I have to commend you for another wonderful year of posting. Although I can only use a computer once a month for five minutes. When I do, I go straight to YOU! Keep up the good work in 2011, and do us all a favor. Stop watching BURN NOTICE!"Source URL:
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Dressing in heels

A Scene For New Year's Eve

    Ludicrous: "Amusing or laughable through obvious absurdity, incongruity, exaggeration, or eccentricity."

    Poignant: "Affecting or moving the emotions."

    The film: "The Hudsucker Proxy" (1994). The setting: New Year's Eve 1958 at Ann's 440, the beatnik bar mentioned earlier by Jennifer Jason Leigh's Pulitzer Prize winning reporter where she goes every December 31st for a poetry marathon, a place where the people "don't quite fit in." We see the Beatnik Barman (Steve Buscemi) talking on the phone.

    Beatnik Barman: "Yeah, he's a tall guy. A real mess...Look, you better get down here. He says he's a friend of yours...He didn't say. But, man, is he from Squaresville."

    He hangs up the phone and trudges back to his post where our protagonist, a sloshed Norville Barnes (Tim Robbins), sits, alone and unpleased.

    Norville: "I want a martini! It's New Year's Eve. I deserve a martini."
    Beatnik Barman: "It's like I've been telling you-"
    Norville: "I thought you served misfits here!"
    Beatnik Barman: "Yeah, daddy, that's a roger. But we don't sell alcohol."
    Norville: "What kind of bar doesn't serve martinis?"
    Beatnik Barman: "It's a juice-and-coffee bar, man, like I've been telling you."
    Norville: "Right. So, I want....a martini. I've had a martini in every bar
    on the way down here."
    Beatnik Barman: "Martinis are for squares, man."
    Norville: "What'd you call me, you beatnik son of a..."

    Norville stands, intending to land a haymaker to the Beatnik Barman, but stumbling and bumbling about instead. Then Amy Archer (Leigh), forlorn, makes her entrance, putting an arm around Norville and guiding him back to his stool. Norville, considering one of the reasons for his sloshed-ness is Amy Archer's betrayal of his trust in how she wormed her way into his inner circle at Hudsucker Industries while posing as a secretary so she could write a story exposing his "imbecil(ity)", is not pleased.

    Norville: "Look who's here. Amy Archer. Prizeter Pule winner. Looking for a nitwit to buy you lunch? Bar fella, I'd like....a martini, please."
    Amy: "I tried to tell you so many times. It's hard to admit when you've been wrong. If you could just find it in your heart to give me another chance.
    Norville: "You take no prisoners, give no second chances."
    Amy: "Please, Norville! Please give me one more chance! And yourself, too! We both deserve one. Just give us a second chance. Together we can fight this thing. I know the last story was a lie and we can prove it. Release a statement! I can help you write it!"
    Norville: "What's the difference? I'm all washed up. Extinct. Homo sapiens sapicus."

    Leigh's following line reading is the sort of thing that makes me laugh harder than any Adam Sandler comedy ever has or could ever hope to.

    Amy: "Well, that just about does it. I've seen Norville Barnes, the young man in a big hurry. And I've seen Norville Barnes, the self-important heel. But I've never seen Norville Barnes, the quitter....and I don't like it."

    And now Amy Archer remembers something, something from earlier, a situation wherein she masqueraded as being from Norville's hometown of Muncie, Indiana to assist her ruse and so returns to it in a moment that is like Tom Joad's big speech in "Grapes Of Wrath" tossed in a martini shaker with Owen Wilson.

    Amy: "You can't surrender, Norville. Remember: 'Fight on, Fight on, dear old Muncie. Fight on, hoist the gold and blue. You'll be tattered, torn and hurting. Once the Munce is done with you. Go....Eagles.'"

    Amy stands and tries to sing with more conviction.

    Amy: "'Fight on, Fight on, dear old Muncie. Fight on, hoist the gold and blue."

    But Norville is having none of it. He returns to his feet and stumbles toward the door, turning, and unleashing, despite having won an Oscar for "Mystic River", despite starring in IMDB's #1 movie, the greatest Robbins Line of 'em all.

    Norville: "You lied to me. How could you lie to me? You...a Muncie girl."Source URL:
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