Metazan's Christmas Charity E-Anthology

I have a new prose poem in this. The download is free, but a donation is suggested. Get it here: http://www.metazen.ca/?p=6141

Character profile for my 3 day marathon book that I'm starting tomorrow

Johnny Sweatpants’ mother was the fattest, ugliest woman who had ever experienced a virginal birth. She was so annoyed about getting knocked up without all the fun that’s involved that she dropped her baby in the Hudson River, where he had fend for himself amongst the sewage. Dating guru, Ross Jefferies, was feeding off the river to meet his daily nutritional value when he found Johnny and took him home, cause, you know, chicks dig babies. Ross adopted Johnny and used him as a babe magnet. When Johnny got older and was no longer cute enough to exploit, his father paid him back for all the pootang he got him by home-schooling him, teaching him everything he knew about tricking beautiful women into bed.

Johnny also had an imaginary friend named Melba Toast until he turned eighteen. Other parents would have been troubled by the length of their friendship, but this did not concern his father. Johnny may have been completely out of his mind, but it was preferable to the trauma that would have accompanied the knowledge that he had no friends. Ross Jefferies did not teach him the social skills needed to make friends. Instead, he taught him how to pick up chicks. And the come on lines that he used on his peers did not make him in-demand as a friend. Instead, the pick-up lines made them beat the shit out of him.

The neighborhood children thought Johnny was a weirdo, hated him, and made fun of him at every opportunity. They referred to him as “Johnny Sweatpants” because he never wore sweatpants. This was peculiar because none of them wore sweatpants either. After finding out the explanation behind his moniker, Johnny wore sweatpants every day. But it was of no use. The neighborhood children kept referring to him by his nickname and beating the shit out of him after he complimented their beautiful blue eyes.

Upon reaching 18, he and Melba Toast agreed to a suicide pact. But while Melba Toast was able to decapitate himself by pulling off his own head, Johnny was only able to give himself a neck ache, which he was able to relieve by applying an ice pack. Then he went into a period of depression due to the loss of his only friend and his inability to do anything right. This ended when he blundered into a pet store one day and bought a thirty pound python named Lloyd.  Shortly after, his father told him he needed to get a job so he could afford his own place to live since Johnny was past the legal age. Johnny applied to a temp agency, received his first assignment doing clerical work for a cemetery, and found out he was very skilled with things like knowing his ABCs, taking orders, and kissing ass. Many other temporary assignments followed, and Johnny moved into a crummy apartment that he shared with an immaculately clean psychopath who hadn’t killed yet, but it was inevitable.

Johnny continued to wear sweatpants, except for at work, where it was mandatory to wear khaki pants. Since sweatpants were so comfortable, his biggest challenge at temp assignments was fighting against the urge to pull down his pants and run around the office screaming.

By this time in his life, Johnny was less socially inept, but still pretty bad. At least he could distinguish between how he should interact with the different genders. And although he still hits on women outside of work (which is the only way he knows how to act with them), this sort of behavior stopped at work after a number of sexual harassment suits sent him straight. After this, he only used three phrases when conversing with women in the workplace: yes, no, and I would prefer not to.

And of course, Johnny was still a virgin, and very lonely. He also had the ingrained fear of impregnating a woman who he had never been intimate of and having to face the consequences. He tried the bar scene, but didn’t have much luck, so he took up bank robbery. He figured women would be attracted to him because he thinks bad boys have good luck with women. And the fact that they’re under extreme stress, with a guy in a Richard Nixon mask pointing at their heads, helps a little too. So he’s been at the bank robbery game for years, and hasn’t had much luck finding a woman to have sex with, although it’s been really close. And being a temp worker makes it really easy for him to find the time to cross the border and hang out in Mexico until the heat dies down. He always makes sure to tell his agency whenever he’ll be unavailable.

So with each robbery, he takes a semi-beautiful woman hostage and travels with her down to Mexico, but they usually lose interest in him before he’s able to “become a man” and go back to the States without him. He’s not concerned with the money that he makes from his bank robberies. He uses it for his getaway, to pay off the right people, and to buy delicious sandwiches. He’s fairly well off, but always feels the need to do an honest day’s work when he’s out of danger, so he travels back to the U.S. to temp. It makes him feel better about being a criminal.

Johnny is known by the press as The Nixon Bandit for obvious reasons.

I'm auctioning off the movie rights to Sorry I Ruined Your Orgy

Here is a link to the Ebay listing: http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&item=190479648232#ht_2564wt_89

And the item description:

Have you ever optioned a movie? If so, you probably paid tons of money for one story.

One story! Is that all?

Personally, I think you were ripped off.

I am auctioning off the movie rights to my book, Sorry I Ruined Your Orgy, which contains 52 stories.

52 stories! That’s a lot of bang for your buck. It’s enough stories for you to release one movie a week for an entire year. Enough to start a movie empire!

Also, you will have the rights to the title, “Sorry I Ruined Your Orgy.” Who wouldn’t watch a movie called that? The title will appeal to a demographic that includes EVERYONE. Toddlers, teenagers, middle-agers, senior citizens. No one will be able to resist.

Never optioned a book before? Well, that’s ok. Because this is a great choice for your first time.

Do you have no idea how to make a movie? Don’t worry about it! You can learn as you film. Screw up one story and you will have 51 more to choose from, including these potential smash hits:

The Time Traveling Giraffe Is On Fire

Cormac McCarthy

Alligator in Space

Scenes from the Life of a Greeting Card Designer

A Suicidal Amputee Tries to Kill Himself By Rolling Off His Bed, Down the Stairs, Through the Screen Door, and Into Traffic; Some Dominican Kids Poke Him With Sticks Too, and an Eagle and an Eagle Shits on Him

And many, many, many more.

You can’t lose!

So let the bidding begin…


A legally binding contract will be sent to the winning bidder.

Find Sorry I Ruined Your Orgy at Amazon.com. For more information, visit www.bradleysands.com and www.lazyfascist.com.

The bidding ends on Wednesday, December 22 at 8:53 PM EST.

It Came from Below the Belt is going out of print on December 14th

...so now would be a good time to buy it if you've been meaning to.

It is my first published book (and my first published novel) and I am very fond of it.

You can get it through Amazon.

Here is the back cover synopsis:

Meet Grover Goldstein: Twenty-First Century rascal, trainee provocateur, boy next door who won't stop snickering at you from behind the lawn gnome. Swallowed by a giraffe and regurgitated oodles of years into the future, Grover must satisfy his urge to go home—even if it means going back to high school and helping his severed, and sentient, penis win the presidential election.

Come along to Assumption High as Grover tries to answer the age-old question, "What if I had forgotten then what I don'’t know now?"

And blurbs:

"Bradley Sands’ debut novel is an absurdist dreamscape that subverts the physical laws of the world as we know it and exposes a brilliant new arena of bizarro existence. In It Came from Below the Belt, the body becomes a surreal, grotesque playground as enfant terrible Grover Goldstein tears through the libidinal fabric of time and space on an uncanny journey to the end of the night. This is speculative fiction at its best. Sands is a talented, fearsome, comic visionary who will usher you into the psychedelic matrix of futurity." - D. Harlan Wilson, author of The Kafka Effekt, Stranger on the Loose, and Pseudo-City

"Reading the work of Bradley Sands caused me to vomit happiness and sunshine from my eyeballs. Highly recommended." - Kevin Donihe, author of Shall We Gather at the Garden? and editor of Bare Bone

"I came, I saw, I read, I laughed, I fell out of my chair. You're more unstable than I am. Well done! Just beware those big brawny guys with the net. They're faster than they look. And you've got more books to write. Rock on." - Kris Saknussemm, author of Zanesville

A link to an excerpt:

http://www.bradleysands.com/excerpt.htm

And Lucas Aguirre's cover art: