All about them scales (parody lyrics)


I’ve always enjoyed parodizing things when I had a fun idea, so here’s another one based on “All About that Bass”

I’ve got more here and here.


Because you know I’m all about them scales
’bout them scales, no feathers
I’m all about them scales, ’bout them scales, no feathers
I’m all about them scales, ’bout them scales, no feathers
I’m all about them scales, ’bout them scales

Yeah, it’s pretty clear, I ain’t no cockatoo
But I can roar it, roar it like I’m suopposed to do
’cause I got that rough skin that all the birds miss
All the right claws and all the sharp teeth
I see the scientists, making up stuff and shit
We know that shit ain’t real
Come on now, make it stop
If you got teeth and claws just tear ’em up
‘Cause every scale of you is perfect
From the tail right to the top
Yeah, John Hammond he told me he spared no expense at all
He said, dinos don’t quack, chirp or produce some other bird calls
You know I won’t be no pigeon or stupid ass budgerigar
So if that’s what you’re into then go hug a mosasaur

Because you know I’m all about them scales…

sonnet 18 – Shall I compare thee to a pizza pie?

Inspired by the lovely and awesome and kind and funny and witty Jolene Haley

It’s kind of a hack job, but I’m reasonably happy with it, so without further ado about nothing… ;-)


Shall I compare thee to a pizza pie?
Thou art more sav’ry and delicious:
Hot oven bakes on temperature high
And pizza’s smell reminds to do the dishes.

Sometime too hot the peperoni burns
And often is its cheese complexion dark;
Yet for its taste my palate often yearns
Hunger, or everchanging app’tite, hark!

But thy eternal savor shall not wane,
Nor lose the toppings of the pie thou art
Nor shall thy dough be ever dry or plain
For ev’ryday you are lunch of my heart

So long as men can eat or nose can smell,
So long tastes this, and this gives taste to thee.

Olli the writer

First of all, sorry. I neglected my blogging duties far too…wait, does anyone even read these? Hello? Anybody out there?

Eh, whatever.

I stopped blogging regularly in September 2015. Which is weird, because there’s one blog post I actually wanted to do. I suppose I got caught up in stuff. ((lazy. I got lazy)).

Many things happened. I did stuff, got to know awesome people, travelled some more ((yes, again!)).

And, in September, I got published.

Here’s how it happened: Ages ago, I got inspired to write a story. I put it on my blog, asked people to read it, got some pretty nice feedback. Then I went on my infamous West Coast US vacation. On my first day I met up with Jennifer Brozek who I first met as a web comic character, then as a poster in a forum, then … well, things escalated and I think we’re friends now! :-D

We had dinner at the Space Needle, and as these things go, we chatted about writing. I mentioned the story and, guess what, Jennifer said: “Ooh, I think I remember that story. Is it the one where…?”
Me: “Yeeees?”
Jennifer: “Submit it. Maybe I’ll buy it.”
I submitted it when I returned and boom, a few month later I was a published author.

You can read “The Rescue” here.

Since then I’ve written two more stories inspired by various conversations, things and showers, and I’ve submitted both to various markets, with mixed success. I did get a few very encouraging personal rejections, and my writing got called “super super cute” among other things.

Since I’m not really a regular, an established writer or anything else but a hobbyist with a lack of discipline and a full time job, the rejections didn’t bother me that much, but I was kinda eager to get at least one of my stories, “Pads for his throne” out there.

Chance had it that I talked to Ivy Tara Blair, who loved the story and expressed interest in it.
She’s aweome. Get her audio books and listen to them. Special recommendation for A.K. Makansi’s “The Sowing”.

Anyway, that and the endless support and encouragement of other friends made me consider self-pubbing somewhere else than the blog.
I was hesitant, still am a little because it’s less than 4000 words. But one idea followed another, so here’s the current plan/status.

  • find editor, have story edited – CHECK
  • find illustrator and cover artist – in progress
  • create amazon author page – tbd
  • publish illustrated ebook – tbd
  • publish print-on-demand illustrated short story/coloring book – tbd
  • have audio book created – tbd
  • publish audio book – tbd
  • strike things of bucket list I never thought I’d do – tbd


Watch this space for news as events progress!


A week ago I got a silly idea t work and I tweeted it. There’s not really any way to explain it without spoiling the fun, so here’s transcription of the tweets without the hashtags and stuff, I guess.


In my sensual dreams
I remove the outer shell
From your soft, sweet curves

Run my hungry tongue
Along the ridges and valleys
Of delighted flesh

Breathe your fragrance sweet
Soak it up into myself
Till I lose control

Nibbling at your skin
Digging deep with greedy tongue
In the wet inside

Ripping you apart
Piece by piece partake of you
Tear into your flesh


Oh man, I love oranges. Sure wish I had one right now.

Roadtrip 2015 – Planes, Cars, Space Needles

I’ve warned you, and here it is. I’ll start going into the details fo my vacation a couple of times a week.EosRoadtrip 035

I’d decided to start this vacation as comfortable as possible, so I spent the night before leaving at a hotel at Frankfurt Airport and ate one of the most German things imaginable for dinner. Then I went to bed, slept some, got up early for my hotel breakfast. Thus prepared for the hardships of travel I checked into my flight, boarded it some time later and took off at around 10:30AM GMT+1 ((German time, which is usually US West Coast + 9 hours)) to spend 9 hours on a plane. About three movies ((Taken 3, Kingsman, Into the Woods)) and one sitcom episode later I touched down in Seattle, went through customs and such, picked up my rental car and drove into and through Seattle to my Hotel in the University District.

A bit later I took a cab to Union Park and explored a little, since I had a bit of time left before the first highlight of my vacation. I saw Union Park, seaplanes and Space Needles, which was nice. I ate a hot dog, went down to Centennial Park. So basically just “first time in town random exploring before scheduled things take place”.

At around 6 PM local time ((I’d been up for about 19 hours, give or take)) I finally met up with Jennifer Brozek who is totally awesome and not just because she gave me three books and signed them. Her husband is awesome, too.
As the table we’d booked wasn’t ready yet, we walked around on the observation deck of the needle until they texted us, after which we …well, sat down, ordered food and drinks and chatted about everything and nothing. Mainly travel, writing, food, drinks, travel, more travel, some more writing. ((I might have a surprise related to that for you some time later))
The fun part is how we know each other. You may not know, but Jennifer is actually a time travelling international jewel thief who wrote and published The Sith Lord of the Rings in 1886. Awesome, huh?  Oh, wait. I just realized I had dinner with someone who has their own wikipedia entry. ((achievement unlocked))

Okay, back to business. Jennifer herself blogged about that day and it’s not the only thing of her you should read, but it’s a start.

WP_20150511_19_08_54_ProWe had a lovely dinner ((try the wild king salmon, it’s really good!)) and chat, it was a great way to start my vacation. But it also was a long day and I went back to my hotel to sleep the sleep of the sleepy. EosRoadtrip 017


See you on Monday when I tell you about Etsy-steampunk strap-on’s.

Home in your dreams

This one came to me when Sara Amundson tweeted a pre-flash-fiction-reading selfie of her at home, stating that was “where the Murdercorn wig lives”.

It, quite obviously, can be sung ((more or less)) to the tune of Home on the Range

Oh, give me a home where the Murdercorn roam
And the gore and the entrails, they spray
Where often is heard a bloodcurdling word
And the children cry out in dismay.


Hunt, hunt in your dreams
Where the gore and the entrails, they spray
Where often is heard a bloodcurdling word
And the children cry out in dismay.

The peace it was pressed from the place you get rest
It’s not likely it’ll ever return
To the dreams in your slumber where monsters now lumber
And everything to nightmares they turn.

But don’t be afraid, someone comes to your aid
To put an end to the monsters you dream
They hunt the jabberwock all around the clock
To make sure the human race is safe.


My brain works in mysterious ways.

What is that all about?

Well, Sara Amundson, the original Murdercorn and mother of monsters ((whom you should totally follow on twitter)) is working on publishing her Urban Fantasy trilogy Dreamer.
It’s all about monsters coming alive from nightmares. Some of those exist as flash fiction ((and you can totally request your own. I got one!)) and some even as video readings.

You know the mother of dragons:


where are my dragons

But do you know the mother of monsters?

where are my monsters

Rudolph the Red Shirt Ensign

You know Savik and Chapel and McCoy and Spocky,
Sulu and Chekov , Uhura and Scotty,
But do you recall?
The most famous crewman of all?

Rudolph the red-shirt ensign
Had a very flashy shirt
And if you ever saw it
You would fear he’d bite the dirt
All of the other crewmen
Used to laugh and be right mean
They never let poor Rudolph
Join in any away team

Then one boring mission brief,
Jim Kirk came to say,
Rudolph with your shirt so bright,
Won’t you lead my team tonight!

Then all the crewmen loved him,
And they shouted out with glee:
Rudolph the red-shirt ensign
You will soon be history!


Have a long and prosper Christmas!

The Next Generation music (bad pun intended)

What if Status Quo had rocked the mid-2nd millenium instead of…ya know?

A paid vacation on an asteroid
Captain Kirk flies into the void
You’re in the starfleet now
Oh, oh you’re in the starfleet, now

Now you remember what the draft man said
Don’t wear a red shirt or you are dead
You’re in the starfleet now
Oh, oh you’re in the starfleet, now

You’ll be a hero of the whole quadrant
A five year patrol is all you want
You’re in the starfleet now
Oh, oh you’re in the starfleet, now

Alien faces as you wait to land
But once you get there no one gives a damn
You’re in the starfleet now
Oh, oh you’re in the starfleet, now

Photo torpedo flying over your head

Phaser beam flying over your head
If you want to survive beam out of bed
You’re in the starfleet now
Oh, oh you’re in the starfleet, now

Exploding console in the dead of night
The ensign calls : “Stand up and fight!”
You’re in the starfleet now
Oh, oh you’re in the starfleet, now

You’ve got your phasers set to kill
Your finger’s on the LCARS but you’re not sure you will
You’re in the starfleet now
Oh, oh you’re in the starfleet, now

Light’s are failing and the ship’s a wreck
Is this illusion or a holodeck?
You’re in the starfleet now
Oh, oh you’re in the starfleet, now


Or maybe the Village People?

Where can you find pleasure
Search the ‘verse for treasure
Learn science technology…

Uh. I think that one already IS all about starfleet.


a dime short and a day late

‘Twas a bright autumn day, when Olli craved for a cold and caffeinated beverage. He grabbed two 50c coins from his wallet and cheerfully started his trek towards his friend the drink vending machine downstairs. Waddling down the stairs he played with the coins in his palms. Passing his coworkers enjoying a cup of coffee at the bottom of the stairs our intrepid hero waved them a friendly hello.

Before entering the hallway guarding the common room and kitchen that was home to the vending machine, he stopped dead in his tracks.

Turning about he meekly asked his coworkers: „Does anyone have 10c? I forgot it got more expensive.“

His gentle and beautiful coworker from the marketing department was glad to help out, while everyone grinned at our hero’s oversight.

„With my luck the machine will be empty“, he quipped and walked towards the glass door separating him from the machine offering bottled soft drinks in exchange for currency. A column of red lights glared at him malevolently, indicating the barren waste of the soulless machine’s empty hold.

Cursing the machine and it’s makers and his fate and everything in his way he went back to the smirking coworkers, returned the shiny coin he just had obtained and sullenly trundled back up to his desk.

“Only Fanta left”, he mumbled. “I don’t like Fanta.”

True story.

The Interview – a short story and a first for me

A few days ago I came home after a rough and long day at work, and got randomly inspired by a short twitter conversation.

A few minutes later I was throwing words at my computer, forming sentences, until I had a very rough and bad short story. A bit later I’d found two wordy friends for feedback, and boy was some of it crushing. I first took care of grammarly stuff, then ironed out some of the “actual” writing, which in parts was pretty bad.

I ended up with this:


The Interview

The neon lights hummed and flickered.
In the past hour no-one had passed the corridor outside the conference room deep within the building.
It would have felt creepy to Samia if she had room in her head for much else besides how desperately she needed that job.
She had been horrified at the prospect of screwing something up. At the start of the interview Jim, the balding, slightly beer-bellied man conducting it had offered her a cookie. Gripping the armrests so tight her knuckles turned white, she declined.

Samia had a reputation for spilling food into her cleavage. Her bra collected more finger food than a starving wedding crasher.
Even without chocolate chip cookies tumbling down between her boobs a job interview was more than challenging for a pudgy girl makingher way towards financial independence.

About twenty minutes in, Jim had asked about her strengths and weaknesses. Opening her mouth to answer, she heard a very faint muffled scream like from the opening scene of a teeny slasher movie.

‘Is there anything wrong?’ Jim asked. Samia stared at him, open-mouthed. She blushed and asked: ‘Sorry, but can you hear that?’

Jim cocked his head, puzzled, and listened. As the screaming grew louder it became clear the origin was in Samia’s purse. “Your cell phone?’ he said, a frown of disapproval showing up on his face.

‘I thought … I turned it off. That’s not even my … ringtone.’ Samia started rummaging in her her purse.

She pulled her screaming cell phone out from between tissues and make-up, the words UNKNOWN CALLER showing up on its display.

A nearly unnoticeable smile flashed across Jim’s face as he motioned the wide-eyed Samia to answer the call.

Thumbing the green button she moved the device up to her ear. The screaming ringtone stopped. ‘Hello?’ Samia said, her voice shaking.

Jim frowned as he watched all color drain out of Samia’s face within an instant. The phone slid out of her hand. As it hit the conference room’s carpet, the loudspeaker activated.  Whoever was on the other end of the call was screaming.

Before either of them could say a word, the screaming stopped. The lights around them died, leaving the phone as the room’s only source of light. After a few seconds the phone’s display briefly flickered, turned off and plunged them into utter darkness.


So that’s it. The first time I wrote a story from scratch unless you count that thing we had to write in 4th grade. ;-)