Sorry, I gotta P

It's the final day of the my blogging week brought to you by the letter P. So, let's piss out the P shall we?

Pickles, pickaxe, pacemaker, pachyderm, pacifier.....is your computer screen covered in spit yet?

...pad thai, Palestinian, panic attack, gay penguin, ( I suddenly have an urge to visit the Mayor).....

...pancake, pancreas, papaya, cell phones....

Hey does anyone else want to punch Richard Branson in the spleen over that new Virgin cell phone commercial? You know the one where that chick hisses like a frickin’ cat over her Christmas gift before a stuffed elk gets wheeled in to give her the great news of Sir Richards savings packages. Perhaps you’re lucky and that ad piece of crap is indigenous to this country only.

...Punch! Prick!...

...parallel universe, peanut worm, premier, piracy, Harry Potter....

Can you believe they actually had gaurds at the premier? Militia with metal ditectors and night vision goggles, frisked movie goers to prevent piracy of the new Potter film. (like I want to see some guy with a plant for hair get up in the middle of the film on my TV anyway.)

peekaboo, pencil pusher, pimp, pedicure, (yeah I'll get to the foot thing some other time)....

...pennywort, pompadour, pigmy, penile dysfunction....

I’m not actually going to talk about the penis here, but it seemed a good segue into the book I’m reading called, "Getting Laid," by Paul Barker. It’s a Sex in the City/ Bridget Jones Diary approach from a man’s perspective and it’s friggin hilarious.

Paul and I have a lot in common as we both write humorous fiction based on real life. We both write from the Dicklit angle and we are both unpublished authors working for a living in other jobs.

People who would really enjoy these books if they read them, I’d say are in the 50% category.
Unfortunately, people who would find this stuff funny and actually buy and read books is more like 2%. Thus the dilemma.

The male side of things is even more grim. About 20% of the buying public are men, except most of those readers are either the comic book crowd with no life experience, or retired codgers who want to read things like, The Great Halifax Disaster of 1911," or "Rommel: The Desert Fox." Ah Canada, home of the non-fiction history lesson novel.

Publishers and agents know this and will squash anything remotely linked to the Dicklit genre. But we will persevere. If not with my newest offering "Handmade Heart," then my next, "The Yaya Sisterhood Strikes Back."

....prostate exam, pissed-off, publishers, parasitic putz’s.