Fake Ingredients—A Public Service Announcement.
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I was taking a shower the other day when I ran out of shampoo. I reached for my wife’s shampoo and read the label. The label had a long list of ingredients that weren’t contained in that product. I never heard of any of them. I’m now convinced that they were made up. As a public service, with apologies to Lewis Carroll, I will now list all the ingredients that aren’t contained in this blog.

This blog doesn’t contain any brillig, slithy toves, gyre, gimble, wabe, mimsy, borogoves, momes, raths, outgrabe, jabberwocks, jubjub birds, frumious bandersnatches, vorpals, manxomes, tumtum trees, uffish, tulgey wood, burbles, snicker-snacks (okay, maybe a couple), galumphing backs, calloohs, or callays.

It might contain a small amount of humor, some wit and a drop of sarcasm. You be the judge. Enjoy.

I wrote this short story a couple of years ago. I hope you like it.

Hits-R-Us

“Hello Mr. Smith. Please have a seat.” The huge man behind the desk motioned to a chair.

John sat down. “Actually, my name is…
“Whoa, whoa,” Big Man shouted and held up both hands, palms forward. “No names, please. Here at Hit-R-Us we call all our clients ‘Mr. Smith’. We’ve been in business a long time, because we are careful. No names, please. You can call me, Jack.”

John was taken back. “Sure… Jack. Of course, no names.”

“Now, Mr. Smith, what can we do for you today?”

“Well,” John’s hands shook as he talked. “I’d like you to kill my wife.”

“Whoa, whoa. We don’t like to use that type of language. Just say you want to end your relationship with your wife.”

John cleared his throat. “Yes, of course. I want to end my relationship my wife.”

“Very well,” Jack said as he pulled out several forms from his desk. “We can certainly do that. But first, who referred you to us, Mr. Smith.”

John shifted in his chair. “I friend of mine, Mr. Tony… Smith. You helped him end his relationship with his wife. He said you were the best.”

“Ah, yes, Tony Smith. I remember that contract. I’m glad he referred you to us. As you can imagine, we rely exclusively on referrals. Mr. Tony Smith took our standard package deal. Did Tony talk to you about payment?”

“Yes, he said $10,000 cash.”

Jack smiled. “That’s the standard package. It includes a clean hit; three shots: two to the heart and one to the head. It’s our most humane package—practically painless. It includes a solid alibi.”

“What other options do you offer?” John asked.

“Well, we do offer custom hits,” Jack answered. “For example, we could stage a hit to appear like a burglary gone bad or frame someone like a lover. Or if you wanted to inflict extreme pain like shots in the knees.”

“How about a shot in the groin?” John asked.

“Now, Mr. Smith. We don’t recommend anything personal like that. The cops will make you a suspect right off the bat.”

“So how do you do it?” John asked. “Do you have hit men on staff?”

Jack laughed. “No, nothing that formal. We post contracts on the dark web and hire our hit men like that.”

John thought for a few moments. “Okay, I guess I’ll take the standard package.”

Jack smiled and adjusted the forms in front of him. “Excellent. Let’s get started. I’ll need some information. How soon would you like your relationship with your wife ended?”

John shook his head. “The sooner the better.”
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THE END

For too long writers have suffered from the stigma of “writer’s block”, a condition where they stop writing and can’t continue for some reason. Even some writers will ridicule their colleagues until they too suffer from writer’s block. Some sufferers report that even their families or partners sometimes ridicule them.  Many suffer in silence because they fear the scorn of others. The total number of writers who suffer may never be known.

The public has called them lazy or stupid. They often offer ill-advised advice like just write or take a break. As a sufferer myself, I can say it isn’t that easy. Trying to write daily or frequently isn’t at all easy. Trying to come up with original material or clever words is a lot of pressure to place on a writer. Many writers already suffer from low self-esteem.

Usually, writer’s block is a temporary ailment and may soon pass. However, in rare cases it may last for months or even years. Some writers have been known to change careers or just give up. Unfortunately, there is no quick cure and no permanent solution. Writer’s block has been known to reoccur. No writer is immune.

If you or someone you know suffers from this malady, please do not criticize, ridicule or laugh at the writer. Studies have shown that most often when non-writers try to help, they make matters worse by placing more pressure on the writer. If you want to help, just be supportive and encouraging. Do not assign a word count or withhold coffee, food or sex. Don’t lock them in their room. Do provide coffee, food, personal space and sex. (Writers need lots of sex.) Do not buy dictionaries or a thesaurus for them; that just add insult to injury.

Writers with writer’s block may need medical help. Encourage them to get a physical to determine if they have completely lost their minds. (This often happens to fiction writers.) Perhaps they are suffering from other ailments like arthritis, carpal tunnel, or brain farts. It’s not unusual to discover writers who get so involved with their writing that they are malnourished, hooked on coffee or no-doze, hallucinating from lack of sleep (This may be hard to detect in fantasy and sci-fi writers) or dehydrated from lack of water. It often helps to inspect their workspace to ensure that their computer(s) and printers work, they have a good chair, and proper lighting.

Pleased help to stop the stigma associated with writer’s block. Thank you.

Jen decided that she would pop the question tonight. Jonah would be home on time for a changed and he had the entire weekend free. Jen also decided to make his favorite dinner--pot roast.

When Jonah arrived, he headed straight for the kitchen. "Oh... What smells so good?" Jen just smiled as she took the roast out of the oven. "oh, oh," Jonah said.

Jen placed the roast on the kitchen table. "What?" she asked.

Jonah smiled coyly, "Well, you usually make pot roast when you need a favor from me. So, what do you want?"

Jen placed her hands on her hips. ""Can't a girl make pot roast for her boyfriend without a interrogation?"

"Sure, usually," Jonah answered. "So, what's up?"

"Oh, nothing. I just thought we'd have a nice quiet dinner at home for a change. Everything's ready. Sit down, while I get the vegetables and wine."

"Wine too?" Jonah said as he took off his coat and tie. "I'm impressed." He sat down and pulled his wine glass closer. Jen returned with the wine already opened and pour a glass for Jonah and herself. Jonah sipped the wine. "Mmm. My favorite wine too. Are you sure you're not up to something?" He wrapped his arms around Jen's waist. Jen sat down on his lap and kissed him.

Jonan smiled and chuckled. "I know you're up to something. You know whenever you serve me pot roast, you can ask me anything and I'll do it. I'm a sucker for pot roast. Jen kept one arm around his neck and patted his chest with the other. "Okay, then. Here goes. Will you marry me?"

Jonah jerked his head back a little and laughed. "Did not see that coming."

"Well?" 

Jonah kissed her and whispered in her, "Yes, yes, a thousand times yes."
​

I'm trying to finish my crime  novel. I haven't worked on the cover yet nor the ending. I'd like my protagonist, Jen, to marry her boyfriend and ex-partner, Jonah. I'm not sure how. I guess I need to discuss it with Jen. Here's what I have so far:

THE PROPOSAL

Since Doc's death, Jen had pondered about her relationship with Jonah. She wanted to get married and start a family, but she wasn't sure how Jonah felt about it. She didn't want to pressure Jonah or give him an ultimatum, but she didn't want to keep the status quo either. Doc's untimely death from Covid-19 changed everything drastically. She was no longer in a threesome relationship, and was back to a relationship with just Jonah, her first real love.

She decided to discuss it with Molly, her best friend. When Molly arrived for work, one look at Jen told her that Jen needed to talk. "What?" she asked.

Jen smiled. "Get your coffee. We need to talk."

Molly got Prada settled onto her bed and soon returned with a large cup of coffee. "Okay, I'm ready. What do you want to talk about?"

"Jonah," was Jen's quick answer. Molly shook her head and sat down.

"What did he do? Do you want me to kill him?"

"No, no. Nothing like that," Jen answered. Obviously, things have changed since Doc's death. I'm enjoying my relationship with Jonah. I don't think I ever want to go back to a threesome. Jonah has been so attentive since Doc's funeral."

"But you're not happy," Molly suggested.

"I'm not happy. I don't feel complete. I want Jonah and I to get married. I think I'll ask him. I'm tired of waiting."

"Wow. Are you sure about this?" Molly asked. "It's a big step. You're not doing this just because you want to see where your relationship stands? Wait just a minute." Molly move closer to Jen. "Are you pregnant?" 

Jen laughed. "God, no. Nothing like that. I know it's a big step; that's why I wanted to talk to you about it."

"How does Jonah feel about it?"

"He doesn't seem to be in any hurry, but I think he wants it too."

"Are you sure that's how he feels?" Molly asked.

Jen dropped her head into her hands. "No. I mean, I think so... I'm not sure."

"Then maybe you should wait. You might hurt his feelings, or chase him off."

"I can't wait anymore," Jen shot back. "I'm going to ask him... tonight."

"If your mind is made up, pick a meaningful location. Someplace that means something to the two of you. Bring a gift--something for both of you. I don't think a ring is appropriate, but maybe. Something unique. We can brainstorm it."

Jen and Molly spent the rest of the day discussing an appropriate gift, the right location and just hoe to propose to a man.

MORE TO FOLLOW. What do you think? Comments, please.

There seems to be several articles on how Americans waste money. With tongue in cheek, here’s my contribution:

1. 1.  Sending money to someone in Nigeria who claims you inherited a large sum of money. This is a scam, folks. Unless, of course, you’re from Nigeria.
2. 2.  Using your savings to invest in your brother’s or brother-in-law’s stupid ideas. In the case of the brother-in-law, you can’t stand the guy anyway, but you married his sister. Your brother or sister is a different issue. This is a tough one. Never lend money to family -- period. Good luck with this.
3. Enrolling in Trump University. I’m sure you thought this was a god deal. It’s overpriced folks. Go to the local community college. If you believe the “Big Lie” then disregard.
4. Buying swamp land that might be drained. You don’t see this one much anymore. Here’s a hint; if you can’t see it, don’t buy it. Seems as if half the country is under water and the other half is too hot to live in. No one is draining anything.
5. Spending a lot of money to hunt for a buried treasure somewhere. Buy a lotto ticket—it’s cheaper.
6. Spending money to claim a prize someone says you won even though you never entered a contest. Another scam, folks.
7. Spending a lot of money on drugs (prescription drugs, over the counter drugs, under the counter drugs, meth, pot, cocaine, heroin, coffee, alcohol, cigarettes, candy, sugar and liquorish). Enough said. “Everything in moderation, including moderation.”—Oscar Wilde.
8. Buying bottled water. Tap water is just as good, and it has fluoride for your teeth. The bottles are made of plastic which comes from oil. They’re bad for the landfill because they don’t break down. They’re transported by trucks that burn fossil fuel and pollute the air. Just drink tap water and save. You can reuse the old water bottles and fool your snobbish friends. Use a filter if you think your tap is not good enough.
9. Paying too much for sex. Sex should be free. If you must pay for it, you’re wasting money. Now, “good” sex is something else. That’s going to cost you.
10. Spending too much on pets. Pets should be free. Don’t purchase a pet, adopt them. Don’t feed them expensive pet food, make your own from organic foods—it’s better for them. If you have a dog or cat, yes, it’s expensive. If pets own you, (you know who you are), that’s different. Forget dogs or cats; cockroaches make great pets and they don’t eat much. They never bark.

 
I hope this helps everyone to cut expenses. 

I’ve posted this story a few times but not in the last couple of years. Enjoy.

Karma is a Messy Affair
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“Are you sure this is a good idea; bringing me here while your wife is out of town?” Judy asked.

Chris took her into his arms and smiled. “Of course. She’ll be gone for three more days. I’m tired of sneaking around in cheap hotels. For once we can stay the night and wake up next to each other in bed.”

“But if your wife finds out…”

Chris shook his head. “I got it all figured out. You’ll be gone before she returns along with any evidence that you were ever here.”

Judy smiled back. “Actually, I’m looking forward to it. We’ve been dating for almost a year, and this is the first time I’ve been in your home. Very nice, by the way.”

“I know. It’ll be great. We can do the things we couldn’t do before: make love at night, have breakfast in bed, watch late night TV.” Chris kissed her. “I’m glad to see that you didn’t wear any lip stick or makeup like I asked. My wife has a nose like a blood hound.”

“I understand. After all, I’m a woman.”

“And a beautiful one at that. No jewelry?”

“Just like you said – no makeup, no jewelry, no body wash, no hair spray, etc. You may not like me when you smell the real me.”

Chris smiled. “I doubt that. Before my wife gets home, I’ll wash all the bedding and take out the trash. Heaven forbid she should find a condom wrapper in thrash. Did you bring the stuff I told you?”

Judy removed a piece of paper from her pocket. “I brought everything on this list. I have the shower cap, slippers, toothbrush, …everything.”

Could you put on the shower cap and slippers now?”

Judy frowned. “Are you serious? I thought you were joking when you said I need to wear them all the time in the house.”

“I know, I know, it’s a hassle, but if my wife finds one stray hair or one-foot print, she’ll know I’m having an affair. She’s like Sherlock Holmes. We must be very careful. That’s how my first marriage ended. I made mistakes. I’ve learned to be more careful. After all, we’ve been dating for a year, and my wife doesn’t suspect a thing.”

“Should I wear gloves?”

Chris laughed. “No, no, that would be necessary. I’ll wipe down everything after you leave.”

Judy tilted her head. “So how did your first wife catch you?”

“Lip stick on a cigarette butt in the trash. She didn’t smoke.”

Judy laughed. “Thank goodness, I don’t smoke. Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” Chris answered.

“Your current wife, was she the one you had affair with when you were married to wife number one?”

Chris shrugged his shoulders. “Busted. Yeah, that’s why we must be so careful. She knows I might cheat on her.”

Judy put her arms around Chris’ waist and kissed him. “Well, I glad you’re cheating on her with me. I’m looking forward to these next few days.”

“Yeah, me too. I’ll make dinner.”

Judy smiled. “You promised me breakfast too, remember.”

“That too. Let me set the table.” Chris went into the kitchen and returned with paper plates and plastic cups. A bottle of wine was tucked under his arm.

Judy took one look and picked up a paper plate. “Really? Paper plates?”

Chris continued to set the table with plastic dinner ware and paper napkins. “Trust me, Judy. One fingerprint and it’s divorce-ville for me. This is the only way. We’ll burn everything in the fireplace.”
“Okay, I guess. I just thought we’d have a romantic dinner.”

Chris raised his eyebrows. “Right. I’ll get some candles.” He walked back into the kitchen.

Judy heard Chris rummaging through cabinets. She decided to make her move. She grabbed her purse and removed a thong and sighed. It was her favorite – pretty and sexy. One squirt from her perfume bottle and it was ready. Between the cushions of the couch was the perfect hiding place for it. Next thing out of her purse was a pair of earrings – not her favorite. Under the cushion of the chair was another excellent hiding place. Chris’s wife would be sure to find them. A stray hair from her head was placed on the back of the couch, almost invisible against the same colored fabric. The final touch was another spray of perfume on the underside of a throw pillow.

Judy had thought about telling Chris’ wife about their affair; woman-to-woman but decided to remain anonymous if that was even possible.  Satisfied with her work, Judy took her purse, turned on her high heels and left.
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END

My e-books from Smashwords.com are on sale during the 13th Annual Smashwords Summer/Winter during July. Please tell a friend! Some are free. Angels and Gargoyles (http:/smashwords.com/b/149430-free), Archimedes of Syracuse (http:/smashwords.com/b/159447), The Clone Murders (http:/smashwords.com/b/160136) and
The Register Cliff Rapist (http:/smashwords.com/b/588277).

My Smashwords page: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/monteranderson.  Browse the Smashwords Summer/Winter Sale catalog.
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Some of my e-books (not on sale) are on Amazon: The Night Predator, A Head for Murder and The Throuple Private Eye—Hate Crimes. Enjoy.