Dar-Wednesday

That's right, it is time for another installment of The Darwin Awards.

Man sticks rattlesnake in mouth to prove a point."


(August 2007, Oregon) An amateur snake collector caught a 20-inch rattlesnake on the highway. Three weeks later, his captive took its revenge. The formerly fearless snake charmer admitted, "You can assume alcohol was involved."


He had a six-pack under his belt, and was consuming what he described as "a mixture of stupid stuff" at a barbecue. The calamity was precipitated when he handed a beer to his ex, using the same hand that held the rattlesnake.


"Get that thing out of my face," she said.


He protested, "It's a nice snake. Nothing can happen. Watch!" Famous last words. As they left his mouth, his fate was sealed.


One month later, still sore from muscle and nerve damage from the venom, the 23-year-old admitted that he stuck the snake in his mouth to prove his point. Instead, he disproved his point, for the snake bit him. He had no time for embarrassment. In great pain and gasping for breath, he asked his ex to drive him to the hospital. "She was the only one sober," he explained.


He was unconscious by the time he arrived, his swollen tongue protruding from his mouth. Physicians performed a tracheotomy to restore airflow to his lungs, and administered antivenin. He was kept heavily sedated for several days. When the swelling went down, "we let him wake up," his doctor reported.


The Poison Control Center sees about 50 snakebite victims a year. Generally they are injected on the legs while hiking, or arms while reaching under a rock. Few are bitten on the tongue.


His friends were blunt. "They were, like, what the heck were you thinking?" His answer? "It's my own stupidity."

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Morals

A woman arrived at the Gates of Heaven.

While she was waiting for Saint Peter to greet her, she peeked through the gates.

She saw a beautiful banquet table.

Sitting all around were her parents and

All the other people she had loved and who had died before her.

They saw her and began calling greetings to her

"Hello - How are you! We've been waiting for you! Good to see you."

When Saint Peter came by, the woman said to him,

"This is such a wonderful place! How do I get in?"

"You have to spell a word," Saint Peter told her.

"Which word?" the woman asked.

"Love."

The woman correctly spelled "Love"

And Saint Peter welcomed her into Heaven.

About a year later, Saint Peter came to the woman

And asked her to watch the Gates of Heaven for him that day.

While the woman was guarding the Gates of Heaven, her husband arrived.

"I'm surprised to see you," the woman said. "How have you been?"

"Oh, I've been doing pretty well since you died," her husband told her.

"I married the beautiful young nurse who took care of you while you were ill.

And then I won the multi-state lottery.

I sold the little house you and I lived in and bought a huge mansion.

And my wife and I traveled all around the world.

We were on vacation in Cancun and I went water skiing today.

I fell and hit my head, and here I am.

What a bummer!

How do I get in?"
"You have to spell a word," the woman told him.

"Which word?" her husband asked.

" Czechoslovakia ."

Moral of the story: Never make a woman
angry... There will be Hell to pay later!

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Still Alive

Where have I been? Well, let's see… I've been working crazy hours at the day job during the week and going crazy on the weekends to make up for it. My Grandmother's 80th birthday was a couple of weeks ago. We had relatives come in from Delaware for a surprise party. After the party, I took a couple of cousins and my brother and SIL out for a night of revelry. We danced, played and even managed to find a club where I could sing a couple of songs (and yes… the crowd went wild). The next day we spent at the lake, wakeboarding, swimming, tubing and even managed to work in a bit of cliff diving.

I flew back to New Orleans on Monday morning worked virtually non-stop until Wednesday morning, flew home, slept a couple of hours and spent the rest of the week working up in Ponca City.

That Friday evening we drove up to Grand Lake and stayed in a condo with a couple of friends of ours. We wakeboarded all day and partied all night. It was a… er, Grand time. I even managed to pull off a few new tricks on the wakeboard. I'm not ready for the pros yet, but there is definite improvement in my abilities.

That next morning I flew back to New Orleans and worked an insane amount of hours until Wednesday, flew home and spent the rest of the week working in Ponca City.

This past weekend, we celebrated my son's birthday. He had a couple of friends that came up from Checotah and spent the entire weekend with him. The party was at Big Splash (a local water park) and a great time was had by all. On Sunday we loaded everyone up and headed back to the lake. I had just completed one of my most impressive runs yet, when I landed a jump wrong, dipped the tip of my board to deep and promptly sprained my ankle. All I could do was kneeboard and drive after that.

Some people might have called it a day after the injury, but we get to few lake-worthy weekends here, I couldn't see wasting one of them because of a bit of pain. This morning it looks like someone wedged a grapefruit between my leg and foot. I can barely put pressure on it and I'm giving serious consideration to breaking out my crutches again for a day or two.

The really cool thing here? I didn't have to fly to New Orleans this morning. Having said that, I'm flying back down there this Friday. This time, I'm taking my wife and we are going to Heather Graham's Writer's Workshop, where I've been asked to sit on a panel and I'm doing a book signing there on Sunday. A far cry from working eighteen to twenty hour days.

I should be able to get back to a more reasonable schedule after Labor Day and of course, get back to blogging on a regular basis at the same time.

So, what have you been up to while I was out and about?

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Dar-Wednesday

That's right, it is time for another installment of The Darwin Awards, but first I must apologize for my sudden absence. Though in my defense, I've worked 54 of the last 60 hours. Sadly, that didn't leave a lot of time for blogging.

Regarding Douglas H. Baxter's great-great-great-grandmother's uncle, William Padgett. The first article sets the stage, the second details his innovative way of killing himself.

(31 July 1878, England) William, better know as "Old Bill" Padget, appeared before Justice Brown Saturday, charged with attempting to discharge a loaded gun with intent to kill Chas. Marshman, for whom he worked upon a farm. The examination showed that on Thursday Bill became angered at Marshman and drew a rifle on him and pulled the trigger; but the cap failed to explode. Marshman struck Bill with a stick of wood, and his fists, and drove him off to the barn, where some parties took the gun away from him and he fled to the woods, where he was found by the officer. Bill is not a very handsome or pleasant looking man when he is all right, and the beating he received had not added to his personal charms, he look as though he had tempted death by tickling the hind foot of a healthy mule. It was shown that Bill did not know the gun was loaded, he having set it away unloaded, and Marshman had loaded it unbeknown to him. He was held for assault and battery, and on Monday a trial by jury was held. The jury brought in a verdict of "not guilty."

(1 February 1887) James and William Padgett were of the first who commenced the settlement of this town and voted at this first election. They settled a few miles from the village near a stream which has since been called after them. Bear Trap Falls on this same steam came by its name in the following way: A few of their neighbors constructed what is called a "Dead Fall" or primitive bear trap, built in the form of a figure four, with a heavy piece of timber made sharp on one side to fall upon and hold any large animal when caught under it. This was in the autumn of 1800. One morning William Padgett while alone examined the trap to see if it was adjusted correctly.- It was; for the sharp log fell and imprisoned the unfortunate man, and several hours elapsed before any one came to his release. He was taken out, called for a drink of water, which was brought him in a hat from the stream near by, when he drank it and immediately expired.

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Addict

Welcome to Friday 55. The object of the game is to write a story using exactly 55 words. If you participate, be sure to drop a comment at G-Man's blog so others will know how to find your story.

Aroma so strong it pulls me from my long slumber. I stumble through the darkness. I find the switch on the wall. The brightness does nothing to improve my mood. Near blind, I'm attracted by the scent. I must reach the source. I sigh in relief. I've arrived. Thank the Gods for my automatic coffeemaker.

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Here is a blurb:


Johnny Walker is a FBI agent in need of answers. His sister was murdered a year ago and the police still don't have a suspect.


Mary Marshall founded a watchdog group to rid the world of online predators after her sister fell victim to a charismatic stranger she met on the popular website, HiyaSpace.

The similarities of their losses bring the two together and hurl them down a path wrought with peril, betrayal and unimaginable suffering at the hands of a madman whose unspeakable deeds threaten to destroy them all.


Will they be able to put an end to his reign of terror? Or will they be forever lost in a maniac's world of Pixels and Pain?

Look for The Writing on the Wall from Wild Child Publishing.

A chance encounter in a bar plunges Dennis O'Brien into an adventure wrought with death, love, and the fragility of the human mind. When Dennis realizes he's had a brush with a killer, things take a turn for the worse. Not only is he unable to stop the madman, but he finds himself the chief suspect in the murder investigation. Following a trail of bodies and revolting clues, Dennis uncovers the true motive behind the slayings. Yes, killers kill, but nothing is more shocking than the reason why. He should have seen it coming, shouldn't have become involved. After all, the writing was on the wall…

Have you read The Dance yet? Are you holding out for the print version? I realize that there are still a lot of people who just can't bring themselves to read an e-book.

Well, if this is the category you fall in, I have some fantastic news. The Dance is now available in print!

Click on HERE to order a copy directly from the publisher.

It's also available at Amazon.com You can reach it by clicking HERE

Nearly a decade ago, Detective Tom Wiley worked a case that continues to haunt him to this day. But while the nature of The Puppeteer's horrific crimes will always remain in Tom's memory, it's the guilt of not catching the serial killer before he vanished that still weighs heavily on his heart.

Eight years have passed since the last victim fell under the blade of that maniac during his vicious killing spree. The time of peace and quiet has come to an abrupt and gruesome end.

The Puppeteer is back.

With the unwanted help of his newly assigned partner, Detective Anna Perez, Tom will stop at nothing to end The Puppeteer's latest reign of terror. But as the detectives follow the trail of bodies, they quickly realize The Puppeteer may not be their deadliest enemy, and they're up against something far more sinister than the twisted workings of a serial predator.

Can Tom and Anna survive this world of insanity and death, of love and loss, of myth and magic, where the lines between good and evil are hard to discern? Or will they be forever swept away in The Dance?

James Goodman was born in Dover, Delaware in 1971, but has traveled extensively. Some of his travels around the world have been in service to his country. Others have been in service to his family, but most have been in service to his heart.

He graduated from Peach County, Georgia before joining the Army during Operation Desert Shield. He served with honor, pride and a whole lot of spent shell casings during his three-year hitch. He attended college at Oklahoma State University and eventually received a BS in EET.

He resides just north of Tulsa, Oklahoma with his with his loving wife and their rambunctious son. They are an active family and when they can pull James away from the keyboard or out of a book, they spend their free time wakeboarding, hiking, practicing mixed martial arts, riding motorcycles and taking road trips.

To find out more, visit his website http://www.goodysworld.com/ or contact him directly at jgoodman@goodysworld.com. He would love to hear from you.