Tag Archives: violence

Nonsensical Rambling

Tomorrow, I have to work on a bathroom sink. It involves replacing this throat looking thingie and the stopper. Everyone says it’s simple, but they don’t know me very well.

My idea of tool usage is the ice maker.

What I want to do is work through my critiques of The Yak Guy Project. The guys liked it, and there isn’t a lot to fix, but I want to check it off my list.

I also have another full read, with markup, of The Experimental Notebook II. This one addresses some really meaty concerns, and I can’t wait to tear into it. Except there is that sink project.

Which brings me to this guy.

Speaking of Wile E., here is something that baffles me. Decades ago, the world censors decided that children’s programming was too violent. They pulled many classic cartoons off the shelf in favor of something called edu-tainment.

The poor misguided children of that era are now the same ones shooting up schools, rallies, nightclubs, etc. Do we need to bring back The Three Stooges, Tom & Jerry, and others? I know I prefer them to almost everything on television, and I’ve never gone postal.


Does anyone remember this guy?

Once upon a time, a long loooong time ago, this guy was kind of an anti-Mickey Mouse. They put these humorous/monstrous characters in all kinds of artwork, most notably tee-shirts. This was the most famous one.

If we went to the store with Mom, and were good, we got a quarter to put in the machine. Ratfink was the top prize we could get. I must have had a dozen of these things.

The important part of this story is that we had to be good. This wasn’t an idle bluff. We (my brother and I for clarity) learned what ramifications are. We learned about winning and losing at Little League Baseball. I don’t know where I’m going with this, I warned you that I’m rambling tonight.

Maybe it’s the idea that learning about right and wrong, winning and losing, & rewards based upon results might have taught me not to… I don’t know, shoot up the DMV.


I learned a trick, the hard way. I’ve read a dozen times about pinning a tweet. I’ve never done it, until recently. There are some folks out there who prepare a tweet about my books and send them out into the world. These aren’t retweets, they actually took the time to grab a cover image, make a link, the whole thing.

To be nice, I wanted to tweet out something about their wares. Many authors don’t have a pinned tweet. Those that do, I will retweet that out in appreciation. I scrolled down a few timelines and found something for the others.

I decided I need to make a pinned tweet to make it easy for someone to share one of my books too. Therefore; if you’re so inclined, you can retweet my pinned tweet at your convenience.


The online world has been really dead lately. I’m not the only one to notice, and several people spoke up via comments or private email.

Things are different online right now. I never cared much for the awards, and bowed out of those years ago. I participated occasionally in the little challenges. You know the ones where we have to post a photo of our writing space or something.

Challenges and awards seem to have dried up lately. Does this indicate they have run their course? Could it be that netizens are interacting less, choosing to be lurkers instead? Did the crowd I started with move along? Many of them have.

The only thing difficult about most challenges is fingering your friends. Let’s try one, but I’m not fingering anyone. If you want to play, play. Let me know and I’ll go read your post.

Here’s the challenge: The world is ending. Pick your favorite apocalypse, and write away. The point is that you have less than two weeks, and there is no way out. The politically connected will survive, but the middle and lower classes are doomed. Your time is limited, what will you do? Here’s mine:


I grabbed an old soft-sided travel bag and dropped my .45ACP in the bottom. The broadcast networks went down days ago, there were riots in the streets. I grabbed some old CDs in the off chance they might still play somewhere.

The streets were silent today. Maybe the mob lost its ambition. The smell of smoke filled the air, and a faint sound of weeping came from some of the homes I walked past on my way to the grocery store. The store was locked, but an outside display of paving stones remedied that. I hurried, before the crowd showed up to loot the place. The sound of breaking glass would attract them for sure.

All I really wanted was a couple of ribeye steaks, some baking potatoes, and maybe a couple of ears of corn. A bottle of George Dickel #12 caught my eye on the way out, and I added it to my kit.

Now I’m going to steal the most outrageously cool car I can find and hit the open road, and I’m not going alone. I’ll hang my Ratfink from a chain around the mirror and leave rubber all over the streets when I leave. I’ll plug in one of the CDs and listen to Aerosmith or ACDC on my way out of town.

The goal? We’re going to drive like maniacs, I’ll feel the wind in my beard, and play my music full blast. Then We’re going to enjoy a nice steak dinner under the stars, drink the whiskey, and if I’m lucky, I’ll leave a crater so baffling that future archaeologists will wonder about it for the next thousand years.


You can spend your last days any way you like. Maybe you want to visit your grandmother, or scratch something off your bucket list. Tell me about it.

Now that my head’s clear, I suppose I’d better work on one of my editing projects. Have a nice evening.


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Crossing Bedlam

I’ve already downloaded my copy, and can’t wait to read this one, Craig.

The Rated-R Post-Apocalyptic Action Comedy Adventure is finally here!

Cover Art by Jon Hunsinger

Cover Art by Jon Hunsinger

The United States of America has been crippled. Violently contained by a global military force and left without its leaders, the country has become shattered and chaotic. A decade has passed since the first strike and a new landscape has emerged where survival is more important than anything else. Who will uncover the truth behind the attack and revive this once great nation?

It certainly won’t be Cassidy and Lloyd since they couldn’t care less about that stuff. She is a young woman on a mission to honor her mother’s dying wish, which is to toss her ashes off the Golden Gate Bridge. He is an infamous serial killer she broke out of Rikers Island since hiring a bodyguard wasn’t working out. Not the perfect plan, but having an insane, oddly charming murder-junkie on your side is a plus in the Shattered States.

Bullets and swear words are going to fly as Cassidy and Lloyd travel coast to coast, facing one challenge after another . . . including Nebraska.

Curious about this broken world & these two ‘not even close to being heroes’?

Then grab a copy for $2.99 on Amazon
Mark it as ‘To Read’ on Goodreads

Excerpt: A Relaxing Drive on the Parkway (Foul Language Warning)

The jeep hurtles through a large hole in the parkway divider, the threat of incoming traffic nothing more than a faded memory. Only three of their pursuers manage to follow with a fourth smashing into the gap and blocking the path. Not wanting to be an easy target, Cassidy keeps their vehicle swerving from one lane to another. She can hear bullets pinging off the asphalt and the abandoned cars that have been moved to the side of the road. There is another hole in the divider right before an overpass, so she drives through at the last second. Sliding into the tunnel, Cassidy watches the other vehicles pass the gap before making a tire-screeching U-turn to go in the opposite direction. Five motorcycles are heading toward them, but the heavy jeep and its driver’s refusal to get out of the way makes them an easily scattered threat. One of the bikers is unable to swerve to the side and he crashes onto the hood while his ride is sent spinning into an abandoned van.

“Get off my car!” Cassidy shouts as she reaches out the window. Grabbing the man by the ankle, she yanks him off the hood and lets him tumble into the concrete divider. “This is really going to cost me. Do you know what the penalty for your idiocy is? They kill you unless you escape to the mainland. Then you’re exiled until you find something that the Trade Barons want more than revenge. I don’t have time to go on a treasure hunt. Would you take off those sunglasses and stop humming car chase music?”

“I was only trying to complete the scene,” Lloyd argues as he calmly fires a pellet at a sedan driver. Having mixed the three types of ammo, he is happy to see a yellow orb burst on the woman’s mouth. “There’s the scratching. Now the nausea. We have a spinning and flipping car, folks. Oh, and there goes either the guy in the passenger seat or a really big ragdoll. You know, I’m starting to like what all of you have done with the place.”

“Stop killing people!” the blonde shouts, veering away from a large truck. She narrowly avoids slamming into a small car, the jeep moving off the road to complete the turn. “The more bodies we leave, the harder it will be to regain the Trade Barons’ favor. At least Neddy will send us what we need and . . . this is not the fucking time to change clothes!”

Lloyd stops with his head peeking out of his blood-covered shirt, which is high enough to reveal his scarred stomach. Figuring that he has come too far to stop, he yanks off the garment and hurls it out the window. He pouts when it flies over a car instead of covering the driver’s side of the windshield and causing a crash. Blindly reaching back, he takes a random shirt out of his bags and examines the black top in the side view mirror. The red and black mask of an old comic book character stares back at him, the face giving the illusion of grinning beneath the fabric.

“I remember reading this guy’s series before the Internet made him so popular and he turned up everywhere. Ugh, that sounded so pretentious that I’m tempted to stab myself. Hey, can we still see movies because I want to see his?” Lloyd asks while tying the laces of the black sneakers he hastily put on before making a mess at the Coliseum. “I really like t-shirts with pictures on them. They bring attention to what I’m wearing instead of my face. You can start a conversation about them too. Nice way to meet people and find out if they’re worth leaving alive or not. For example, I have a shirt with another hero and if somebody tells me that the bastard can defeat every other character then I know they have to die. I mean, he’s nothing more than a child-endangering bill-”

“Shut the fuck up, Lloyd!”

“Don’t be angry, kid. You’re doing great.”

“I can’t even figure out if we’re going in the right direction.”

“Turn around and start shooting at their tires.”

“I can’t because I need to save bullets.”

“For what?”


Charles E YallowitzAbout the Author:

Charles Yallowitz was born and raised on Long Island, NY, but he has spent most of his life wandering his own imagination in a blissful haze. Occasionally, he would return from this world for the necessities such as food, showers, and Saturday morning cartoons. One day he returned from his imagination and decided he would share his stories with the world. After his wife decided that she was tired of hearing the same stories repeatedly, she convinced him that it would make more sense to follow his dream of being a fantasy author. So, locked within the house under orders to shut up and get to work, Charles brings you Legends of Windemere. He looks forward to sharing all of his stories with you, and his wife is happy he finally has someone else to play with.

Twitter: @cyallowitz
Facebook: Charles Yallowitz
Website: www.charleseyallowitz.com

Want the same level of action with a lot of magic & no cursing?

Cover Art by Jason Pedersen 3D Conversion by Bestt_graphics

Cover Art by Jason Pedersen
3D Conversion by Bestt_graphics

Click here for the $4.99 Bundle to start your journey into Windemere!


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