Tag Archives: Victoria’s Secret

Robot Lessons

Lisa Burton

When I walked into the writing cabin, Lisa was in a slumped over position at her desk. “What’s wrong with you? You didn’t pick up a computer virus, did you?”

“Nothing like that. It’s just that Adriana Lima retired.”

“Gonna have to help me with that one.”

“You know, the supermodel. Victoria’s Secret and more.”

“This is about your TV show last night isn’t it? Don’t worry. I’m sure there will be someone new next year.”

“That’s the point. I think it could be me. I’m a concept model robot, so I can extend my height a little bit, maybe thin out some of this flesh.”

“I see… Maybe we should talk about that.”

“Think of all the places she’s been. Things she’s gotten to do. I’ll bet her closet is full of cool clothes.”

“Not many you can wear in public though.” I sat at the opposite side of her desk. “You know how you’re always trying to be more human?”

“Yeah, it’s one of my major programming directives.”

“I think you made it.”

“I don’t understand.”

“There is always going to be someone with more than you. It could be more money, more clothes, better looks, more talent, anything really. The trick is to be happy in the place you’re in, in the skin you’re in. I’ll wager there are people who would like to be you.”

“I doubt it.”

“Okay, lets explore that. I’ll bet your model–”

“Supermodel.”

“Okay, supermodel. I’d wager that she’s never grown carnivorous plants, or fired a big assed gun.”

“You don’t know, she might have. Bet she doesn’t have to chase enchanted beer horns up and down the halls either.”

“Okay, I’ll bet she’s never travelled through time, flown a rocket-pack into space, or visited Windemere before. I’m pretty sure she’s never fed politicians to a Cthulhu monster before either.”

“Yeah, that was kind of fun.”

“Bet she’s never had a meaningful conversation with a yak.”

“Alright, I get it. Still, she has a pretty glamorous life.”

“You’ve been on the red carpet before. You got to perform with Lizzie and the hat. You have your own radio show, and that faux Warhol on the wall behind you is pretty glamorous too.”

“Still faux.”

“There won’t be anymore Warhols, but you’re missing the point. You get to do a lot of things others don’t. While we’re all aware of someone better off, we need to remember those who aren’t as well off either. We can’t all be bestselling authors, but I keep plugging away. Would you really change who you are, even modify your body, to be someone else?”

“I really like my style and who I am.”

“Then be happy with who you are. You can still visit those places. You can make more posters in glamorous clothes. Plus you can take down a casino like nobody I’ve ever heard of.”

“Thanks. That really helps. You work on your writing, I’m going to ride down to the store. Maybe we can fill those beer horns with something special today.”

“Now that sounds like a great idea.”

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Practically a holiday

Here’s what I have in mind for tonight.

Here’s what Lisa Burton has planned.

It seems my wife is on Lisa’s side. At least the game comes on several hours before the fashion show. If it isn’t completely over, it ought to be pretty close before the fashion show starts. (‘Cause in Idaho, underwear isn’t for prime time.)

Go Steelers! (And go fast.)

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Employee relations

I sat my iPad in my lap and rubbed the bridge of my nose. I decided to do my editing in the paranormal office. The sound of Uptown Funk drifted down from Lisa's room. “What's going on up there, and do we have any more coffee?”
A sound, like taffeta along the walls, worked its way downstairs and turned the corner. Lisa stood in the doorway and placed her hands on her hips.

“What the? That isn't appropriate attire for the office. What–“

“Stop right there. You approved my day off months ago. I'm at an online party with the girls, so you can just make your own coffee.”

“Girls? How many girls?”

“There's me, Faith–“

“Your therapist?”

“My friend. Then there's Helena, Patty, Laura, Vicky, Lindsay Pennington, oh and Lorelei. Eight of us.”

“You brought Lindsay Pennington here? Do we even have arson insurance?”

“It's an online party. I'm the only one here.”

I waved my hand from her head to toe. “What's this all about?”

“I found a cute little shop that sells retro lingerie. It works with my personal style. Lindsay used crepe paper to make wings that look like fire. Then she put on a pair of Spanks she bedazzled. We all laughed hysterically.”

“But why?”

“We're getting ready for the big fashion show. Lorelei has this cute Greek toga thing that's slit up the leg, and cut down to here. She put her wings on her shoes to stick with her theme.”

“Et tu, Lorelei?”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“I have to hand out virtual chocolate, and Faith is handing out virtual champagne.”

“But Patty, Laura, and Vicky are underage.”

“It's virtual champagne.”

“Those girls didn't have internet in the 1970s.”

“I may have hooked them up. I need to get back, it's almost my turn on the catwalk again.”

“You built a catwalk up there?”

“No. It's just part of our party.” She looked off into space and spoke. “Hi, Lorelei. Yeah, he's playing twenty questions. I'll be back in a second.”

“Phone call?”

“Yeah, they want me back.”

“So you decided to throw a big party before the fashion show?”

“Oh sure, let someone schedule a football game and guys break out grills, crack open beers, and fart–“

“We don't fart.”

“Would you like me to do a chemical analysis of the air in this room?”

“No.”

“The fashion show is something for the girls, and we decided to have our own party.”

“Maybe I'd better check it out. What's the address?”

She pointed a gloved finger at me. “Oh no you don't. Girls only. That way nobody judges us, and we can have our own fun.”

“What's everyone else wearing?”

“The teenagers got together and all wore butterfly wings. Patty is so cute now that she can wear fun shoes. Faith has a California Angels motif going on. Then Helena has a giant black hood and cape with black wings to suit her angel of death job.”

“And did Helena's henchman get to attend?”

“No, girls only. We're having fun, and we only get to have fun if someone isn't picking about cellulite, or commenting about who looks better than someone else. Then we're all going to watch our show together. Now, unless you want to start paying me overtime, I have to go.”

She turned back towards the stairs as Legs by ZZ Top trickled down from her room.

I glanced over at the enchanted beer horns. “Boys, what say we start beer time early today.” They came running and curled against my ankles like two cats.

***

As an explanation to any new readers, Lisa is the main character in Wild Concept. She is a robot and works as my personal assistant these days. Faith is also in Wild Concept. Lindsay Pennington is a supporting character in Arson. Patty, Laura, and Vicky are all in Will O' the Wisp. Lorelei is my Muse, and makes regular blog appearances. Helena, the Angel of Death, is coming soon in The Playground.

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Look! Posting on my own blog.

I admit to being a serial reblogger lately. It’s all such good stuff though.

I’m thoroughly enjoying Karen’s story, Neighbors. My character, Lisa Burton, is playing a supporting role here. Karen’s characters are wonderful too, and extremely colorful. I won’t link this time, you’ve probably seen my reblogs through the past few days.

Karen also read my book, Arson. She posted a wonderful review too. How could I not reblog this? I need reviews, and this is awesome.

This has been a Godsend for me. I’ve been very busy at work, with the holidays, and on other projects. I didn’t want you guys to think I’m dialing it in. I’m watching and reading all this along with you.

Old What’s Her Face* recorded the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show last night. We both get up extremely early for work, and the Idaho puritans wouldn’t air it at a decent time. We’re watching it right now. OWHF is thoroughly enjoying herself.

Alright, I admit to peeking once or twice. I just wish they had a girl or two with bat wings and tattoos. Maybe just a touch more meat on their bones too. What can I say, not everyone’s into Barbie.

What’s everyone else doing tonight?

*Not the name on my wife’s birth certificate.

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