I yanked this off of Jill Monroe’s blog. Oh my gawd, I would have killed the prankster. Killed. Him. I feel so sorry for the chick–and yet it’s freaking funny.

Feisty says that she, Eden Bradley, R.G. Alexander, Jax Cassidy, and I are The Sexual Deviants. And she’s decided that deviants can do anything–or rather that we just can-can.

(If you can’t see the screen below, try this link.)

Okay, this was just too funny. I had to post about it. There’s a Halloween version of Hangman with creepy words you’re guessing at.

And the skeleton getting hung? He mocks you with relentless sarcasm. It’s so worth loosing just to see the bugger hang.

Check it out! And warning: this thing a is a totally time suck. Procrastinators of the world, rejoice!

Aka She tagged me.

This is out it works:

Players offer eight random habits/facts about themselves. If you’re tagged, you need to write your own blog about your eight things and post the rules. At the end of your blog post, you need to choose eight people to tag–and list their names. If you participate, don’t forget to leave your people a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.

Here we go…8 things about moi:

1. I tell jokes only I think are funny.
2. I write naughty books and love every minute of it.
3. My dad always says I write soft-core porn. I reply that I write hard-core romance. He laughs.
4. I have a Master’s Degree in Library Science.
5. The first romance novel I ever read was The Gamble by LaVyrle Spencer.
6. I love getting emails from readers. (Pssst: this means YOU)
7. Mad Madam M and I have been friends for almost ten years and thinking about that makes me feel old.
8. I have two nieces, a nephew, and another on the way.

I’m not sure I can find eight people to tag that haven’t already been tagged. So, I’m tagging anyone who’s reading this that hasn’t done it yet. Ha!

Last night my guilty pleasure premiered on the CW. That’s right, America’s Next Top Model. I’m not certain if it’s watching skinny people cat fight or watching pretty people take pretty pictures. Or maybe it the hosts getting cat fighty and bitchy. Doesn’t matter, I like the show.

Special note on this episode is that one of the models gave Tyra a simulated Brazilian wax. Yup, she grabbed her butt and pried those cheeks apart to make it happen. Creeeepy. Though no doubt exciting to the straight male viewers.

I know Lillian Feisty and Eden Bradley’s guilty pleasure is Rock of Love. I have no idea what it’s about, but I’m betting it’s a bad reality show. I kind of doubting it’s Feisty’s guilty pleasure as I doubt Her Royal Shameless is capable of guilt.

It’s amazing what we like and don’t tell people about. Though I just did so *shrug*

So, I read on Suzanne Brockmann’s website that she bought a seat at a charity dinner with Joss Whedon. I think anyone who’d read my blog knows I loved the show Firefly, which he created. And the spin-off movie Serenity. Though he killed my favorite character, damn him to hell. He also created Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel, which I never watched but Mad Madam M loves as much as I love Firefly.

I was thinking as I read her account of her dinner and going all fan-girl on Joss, that if I had been at that dinner I would have died on the spot. I mean, Joss AND Suz? Died. Right there. That would be the COOLEST thing to be at dinner with both of them…I wouldn’t know who to squee over the most. Or first. Or whatever.

Also, don’t forget Suzanne’s newest Troubleshooters novel is about to come out. Man, I love her Navy SEALs books. *happy sigh*

Okay, I find Stewie on the show Family Guy repulsive and hilariously funny. If you’re easily offended, don’t watch this…if you aren’t then ENJOY. These two are Stewie learning to love discipline and Stewie kicking the breast milk habit.

Eden Bradley emailed me this funniness this morning. So, it was waiting for me when I got home from grocery shopping–which went longer than I would have liked because I kind of lost my house key. Time to get a new key chain, argh!

Check it out…so funny.

I stole this from the uber talented alien-writer-chick, Gena Showalter, who stole it from Michelle Rowen, who stole it from Bonnie. It’s been passed around like a cheap hooker, poor thing. You answer all the questions using only one word.

1. WHERE IS YOUR CELL PHONE?: purse
2. RELATIONSHIP?: nope
3. YOUR HAIR?: showered
4. WORK?: weekend
5. YOUR SISTER?: non-existent
6. YOUR FAVORITE THING?: finishing
7. YOUR DREAM LAST NIGHT?: non-existent
8. YOUR FAVORITE DRINK?: water
9. YOUR DREAM CAR?: Volvo
10. THE ROOM YOU’RE IN?: office
11. YOUR SHOES?: scattered
12. YOUR FEARS?: snakes!
13. WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE IN 10 YEARS?: bestseller
14. WHO DID YOU HANG OUT WITH THIS WEEKEND?: Persnickety
15. WHAT ARE YOU NOT GOOD AT?: lying
16. MUFFIN?: blueberry
17. ONE OF YOUR WISH LIST ITEMS?: Orlando
18. WHERE YOU GREW UP? California
19. LAST THING YOU DID?: type
20. WHAT ARE YOU WEARING?: pajamas!
21. WHAT AREN’T YOU WEARING?: socks
22. YOUR PET?: gone
23. YOUR COMPUTER?: MacBook
24. YOUR LIFE?: crazy
25. YOUR MOOD?: bored
26. MISSING?: breakfast
27. WHAT ARE YOU THINKING ABOUT RIGHT NOW?: book
28. YOUR CAR?: parked
29. YOUR KITCHEN?: messy
30. YOUR SUMMER?: packed
31. YOUR FAVORITE COLOR?: green
32. LAST TIME YOU LAUGHED?: yesterday
33. LAST TIME YOU CRIED?: *sniffle*
34. SCHOOL?: aced
35. LOVE?: yay!

Here’s my first official post at my new WordPress blog. Welcome!

For some extra fun, here’s a few pics from dancing with the Persnickety Hooch on Thursday night.

The club she took me to is one where everyone dances (badly) by themselves. Persnickety Hooch actually has some rhythm, but there was one guy in lace and pearl with a black and white polka dot top and striped witch stockings that scared me with his…um…cool dance moves. Here’s me trying to escape the club.

Normally I wouldn’t show a pic that looks up my nose, but the polka dot guy in the background is our madcap dancer man.

And here’s the Persnickety Hooch and me cheesing it up for the camera after we got hit on boys young enough to be our students. We were sorta flattered (sorta) and a bit squicked out.