tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-75222909353042998702024-03-13T11:56:13.840+00:00Princess of ProcrastinationAmber T. Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087021598115958337noreply@blogger.comBlogger352125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522290935304299870.post-4049653357295048282020-03-01T18:45:00.002+00:002020-03-01T18:47:50.300+00:00Procrastinating Forevah<br />
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So yeah, procrastinating is still my thing (obviously). In fact, I've been procrastinating from posting on my procrastination blog (another obviously). The problem is, even when I<i> do</i> post on my procrastinating blog, it is only because I am doing so in order to procrastinate from doing <i>other</i> stuff.</div>
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Makes sense, right?</div>
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Also rambling. (See above paragraph). Still do that, too. (I really want to put 'obviously' in parenthesis again, but that would be repetitive).</div>
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So. Procrastinating and rambling. They really do go hand in hand. Ask me a question, and I will invariably go around the houses (as well as catch a bus, travel to the city centre, and pop to the cinema) before you get an answer (which will most likely not even be a <i>straight</i> answer, more like a bendy one).</div>
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Hmm. Parenthesis are clearly also a 'thing' with me (as is placing words inside inverted commas). Apparently I have lots of 'things'. Sadly, one of them is <i>not </i>sticking to regular blog updates.</div>
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Anywho, life is not much changed for me. I still work in the same place, I still wonder how I will stretch my wages to last a month, and I still have vague plans to get back to writing 'properly' again. So why have I decided to randomly blog today? Well... I think it's mostly because I have encouraged <a href="https://creativemadnesswithlellie.blogspot.com/?m=1">my daughter</a> to blog as a distraction for her (she suffers poor mental health). And I would be a poor example to her if I said 'do as I said' rather than 'do as I do'. </div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OH7B6b0byik/XlwAOEZTj-I/AAAAAAAADiU/7yGqABJtP5gz_JLNmBM_evGO-Tupm9APgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/64539759_10156451929196375_7625196052970209280_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="467" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OH7B6b0byik/XlwAOEZTj-I/AAAAAAAADiU/7yGqABJtP5gz_JLNmBM_evGO-Tupm9APgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/64539759_10156451929196375_7625196052970209280_o.jpg" width="155" /></a></div>
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So I do. Or I did. Or... well, you know what I mean. Will try to add a quick post weekly, though I will not formally commit, as that really doesn't mean anything to a procrastinating rambler like myself.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i4gTd3gqrho/XlwARZh-fcI/AAAAAAAADiY/fbixptI3beMRrcJYNZyV3bUi-07Y-J5jQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/81359129_10156950133946375_1871122186337517568_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="360" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i4gTd3gqrho/XlwARZh-fcI/AAAAAAAADiY/fbixptI3beMRrcJYNZyV3bUi-07Y-J5jQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/81359129_10156950133946375_1871122186337517568_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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In the meantime, here is a picture of myself with my daughter taken from last year (I am the hobbit, she is the gorgeous one), and a picture of my youngest boy (because he is clearly so adorable that he needs no excuse to have his picture shared).</div>
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Man, I really need to get a grip on my parenthesis thingy...</div>
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Amber T. Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087021598115958337noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522290935304299870.post-68758231413848752812017-08-11T21:55:00.003+01:002017-08-11T21:55:59.047+01:00Long time, No see...<br />
Dear blogosphere, it has been over three years since my last <strike>confession</strike> blog, and really, there's not a lot I can say about that except, well.. I<i> am</i> the Princess of Procrastination.<br />
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Long story short(ish), life happened. And when I say 'life', I quite literally mean it. 'Life' is currently two years and three months old, and is as mischievous as toddlers can be. Master Oliver Harry Smith was a late addition to my family, and is a thoroughly spoiled little man, but we loves him, precious, yes we do.<br />
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Sadly, babies/toddlers + full-time job + procrastination tendencies = no blogging from yours truly. Though it has to be said, I wasn't much for keeping faithfully up to date on here anyway. *shifty*<br />
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It's been a funny few years; not only did I have a new kiddie winkle, but just prior to that little surprise I became immersed in fanfiction writing for several months (so I can honestly say that I <i>did </i>actually do some writing, even if it wasn't for a 'real' book, or posts for this neglected blog). I actually wrote a 50k fanfiction in six weeks. As in, a <i>finished</i> 50k fanfiction. Go me! And several shorter length stories and drabbles too. This, I should point out, is more a testament to my obsessive nature when it comes to nerdy fandoms, than to any new found non-procrastinating habits. Maybe one day I can apply my OCD geekyness to writing another novel.<br />
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On the subject of geeks, I also geeked out majorly over the phenomenon that is Game of Thrones (several nerdgasms were had, I kid you not).But I'm pretty sure I'm not alone there. I would say that I should make a new tag for GoT, but let's be honest here, no-one is holding their breath for more Princessy blog posts (least of all me... I know myself too well).<br />
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So this is just a 'hello' post, really. And probably a 'is anyone going to actually read this' post. And also a 'blimey, I remembered my login details AND how to compose a post' post.<br />
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I'm hoping to leave you with a picture of my Ollie-Pop as an end to this , but in all fairness, this could turn into an 'oops, I forgot how to add a picture to my blog post' post. We shall see...<br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Tyrf3iALvZE/WY4YwPoADaI/AAAAAAAABx0/poS6K_PQMDATQx8YUD0MSVnnj-ToxX9MQCEwYBhgL/s1600/olliepop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="533" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Tyrf3iALvZE/WY4YwPoADaI/AAAAAAAABx0/poS6K_PQMDATQx8YUD0MSVnnj-ToxX9MQCEwYBhgL/s320/olliepop.jpg" width="177" /></a></div>
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Blimey, I think it worked" *faints*<br />
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<br />Amber T. Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087021598115958337noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522290935304299870.post-63290412090930181592014-04-18T23:38:00.000+01:002014-04-18T23:38:07.984+01:00Pants<span style="color: purple;"><i><b><span style="font-size: large;">P is for Pants</span></b></i></span><br />
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When something is making you frown</div>
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And things are getting you down</div>
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There's no need for rants</div>
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Just say 'its all pants!'</div>
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(And now I can't think of a noun).</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4ihAyv0ap28/U1GpHhTUUVI/AAAAAAAABoE/6q0HxT1hC4o/s1600/ask_me_about_pants_lanyard_600wide.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4ihAyv0ap28/U1GpHhTUUVI/AAAAAAAABoE/6q0HxT1hC4o/s1600/ask_me_about_pants_lanyard_600wide.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Actually, DON'T ask me... <a href="http://jasoneppink.com/pro-pants-2010/">Original Image</a></td></tr>
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<br />Amber T. Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087021598115958337noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522290935304299870.post-83097579126792038982014-04-17T23:57:00.000+01:002014-04-17T23:57:38.684+01:00Oops<span style="color: purple;"><i><b><span style="font-size: large;">O is for Oops</span></b></i></span><br />
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I generally fall over fresh air</div>
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It's something that I do with flair</div>
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Alone or in groups</div>
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I usually say 'oops'</div>
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As a klutz, I am beyond compare! </div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oY-nHzfsiAY/U1Bb_biQwpI/AAAAAAAABn0/4fn_p4QIX0Y/s1600/little-miss-clumsy-500x500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oY-nHzfsiAY/U1Bb_biQwpI/AAAAAAAABn0/4fn_p4QIX0Y/s1600/little-miss-clumsy-500x500.jpg" height="256" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is me!!! *nods* <a href="http://debscupboard.wordpress.com/2012/11/09/little-miss-clumsy/">Original Image</a></td></tr>
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<br />Amber T. Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087021598115958337noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522290935304299870.post-40087855733368817702014-04-16T23:59:00.001+01:002014-04-17T00:00:57.581+01:00Nothing<span style="color: purple;"><i><b><span style="font-size: large;">N is for Nothing</span></b></i></span><br />
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Midnight is just minutes away</div>
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And I find I have nothing to say</div>
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I probably won't boast</div>
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About this pants post</div>
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But as long as I blog, it's okay!!</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_K5JCcFCQdg/U08LeyYOzOI/AAAAAAAABnk/beDZNButCuI/s1600/ipppp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_K5JCcFCQdg/U08LeyYOzOI/AAAAAAAABnk/beDZNButCuI/s1600/ipppp.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nothing, nada, zilch... <a href="http://howshereallydoesit.com/blog/2012/01/all-or-nothing/">Original image</a>.</td></tr>
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Amber T. Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087021598115958337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522290935304299870.post-70147153322047637722014-04-15T23:35:00.001+01:002014-04-15T23:35:43.594+01:00Minions<span style="color: purple;"><i><b><span style="font-size: large;">M is for Minions</span></b></i></span><br />
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According to certain opinions</div>
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In order to rule my dominions</div>
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I'll need more than me</div>
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To run them smoothly </div>
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So I'll have to find me some minions!</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hY1DNsCuAOA/U02z3QyoX6I/AAAAAAAABnU/M2O-SHDQwJ0/s1600/minion-maker.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hY1DNsCuAOA/U02z3QyoX6I/AAAAAAAABnU/M2O-SHDQwJ0/s1600/minion-maker.jpg" height="288" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is what I need!! <a href="http://minionslovebananas.com/minion-games.aspx">Original image</a>.</td></tr>
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<br />Amber T. Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087021598115958337noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522290935304299870.post-90836856961744951082014-04-14T23:27:00.005+01:002014-04-14T23:27:41.881+01:00LOL<span style="color: purple;"><i><b><span style="font-size: large;">L is for LOL</span></b></i></span><br />
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The silliest of things can amuse</div>
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Your sense of control you can lose</div>
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But laughing out loud</div>
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Is always allowed</div>
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It's a tonic to chase away blues!</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TqSN2dyS03w/U0xgn_56Y0I/AAAAAAAABnE/dTHd56scXek/s1600/spongebob-positive-quotes-sayings-laugh-live-life_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TqSN2dyS03w/U0xgn_56Y0I/AAAAAAAABnE/dTHd56scXek/s1600/spongebob-positive-quotes-sayings-laugh-live-life_large.jpg" height="237" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://mrshughes121212.blogspot.co.uk/">Original image</a></td></tr>
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<br />Amber T. Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087021598115958337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522290935304299870.post-41915536342320456592014-04-12T23:39:00.004+01:002014-04-12T23:39:34.609+01:00Knobbly<span style="color: purple;"><i><b><span style="font-size: large;">K is for Knobbly</span></b></i></span><br />
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I've given up aiming for slim</div>
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I'm just not made to be thin</div>
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From bits that are wobbly</div>
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To knees that are knobbly</div>
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I'll brazen it out with a grin!</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lOF0ax4j3wk/U0nAPsvk2XI/AAAAAAAABm0/rWUgIhsBbZU/s1600/curvy-woman-vector-576206.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lOF0ax4j3wk/U0nAPsvk2XI/AAAAAAAABm0/rWUgIhsBbZU/s1600/curvy-woman-vector-576206.jpg" height="320" width="304" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.vectorstock.com/royalty-free-vector/curvy-woman-vector-576206">Original image</a></td></tr>
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Amber T. Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087021598115958337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522290935304299870.post-65594694274333479022014-04-11T23:55:00.003+01:002014-04-11T23:55:57.932+01:00Jumping<br /><span style="color: purple;"><i><b><span style="font-size: large;">J is for Jumping</span></b></i></span><br />
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I'm not much of an exercise freak</div>
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I'm more likely to play hide and seek</div>
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I suffer a lack</div>
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Of Jumping a Jack</div>
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So sadly, my joints tend to creak... </div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yu19-YsfJX0/U0hygo9xOlI/AAAAAAAABmk/yNAgWF8HRAU/s1600/jumping-jacks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yu19-YsfJX0/U0hygo9xOlI/AAAAAAAABmk/yNAgWF8HRAU/s1600/jumping-jacks.jpg" height="286" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nope, that's definitely not me... <a href="http://ducttapeweddingring.com/2011/06/28/tackle-the-sht-out-of-something-tuesday-the-day-of-1000-jumping-jacks-edition/">Original image</a>.</td></tr>
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<i>Just made it again!! Pesky late night shifts... *mutters*</i>Amber T. Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087021598115958337noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522290935304299870.post-75037502484564315792014-04-10T21:48:00.001+01:002014-04-10T21:48:49.844+01:00Inconceivable<span style="color: purple;"><i><b><span style="font-size: large;">I is for Inconceivable</span></b></i></span><br />
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There are times when nothing makes sense,</div>
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When things tend to make you go tense.</div>
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If it seems unbelievable</div>
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Just yell 'Inconceivable!'</div>
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I swear the relief is immense!</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-x3HFPTTejbs/U0cDLHztUKI/AAAAAAAABmU/-odso9qbwfE/s1600/index.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-x3HFPTTejbs/U0cDLHztUKI/AAAAAAAABmU/-odso9qbwfE/s1600/index.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">See? Look how happy he is!! <a href="http://forums.mtbr.com/off-camber-off-topic/who-anthony-weiner-carlos-danger-guy-all-your-politicians-like-him-868269-7.html">Original image</a>.</td></tr>
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<br />Amber T. Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087021598115958337noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522290935304299870.post-52520709472895154382014-04-09T23:44:00.001+01:002014-04-09T23:44:21.119+01:00Hunk<span style="color: purple;"><i><b><span style="font-size: large;">H is for Hunk</span></b></i></span><br />
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If you feel like you're stuck in a funk</div>
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And you don't feel like getting drunk</div>
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Go google some pics</div>
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For a visual fix</div>
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And spend time with your favourite hunk!</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-epHRqm0IfNE/U0XNC2-Rs6I/AAAAAAAABmE/CcozU5F1FuA/s1600/wallpaper_12028.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-epHRqm0IfNE/U0XNC2-Rs6I/AAAAAAAABmE/CcozU5F1FuA/s1600/wallpaper_12028.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Loves me some Aragorn!! <a href="http://wallpapers.jurko.net/pic/12028/">Original image.</a></td></tr>
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<br />Amber T. Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087021598115958337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522290935304299870.post-68092126914891808372014-04-08T23:59:00.001+01:002014-04-09T00:02:32.486+01:00GlompAaaaccckkk!! Late shift today, and I only just remembered that I needed to post my letter 'G'! I have 12 minutes to come up with a limerick. *dies*<br />
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<span style="color: purple;"><i><b><span style="font-size: large;">G is for Glomp</span></b></i></span><br />
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When sending an internet cuddle</div>
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Take care not to cause any muddle!</div>
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Don't offer a romp</div>
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Be sure to type *glomp*!</div>
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Then you won't bemuse or befuddle!! </div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eD9YMwMAbHQ/U0R-6kFwLWI/AAAAAAAABl0/5g1RkCcBoXg/s1600/glomp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eD9YMwMAbHQ/U0R-6kFwLWI/AAAAAAAABl0/5g1RkCcBoXg/s1600/glomp.jpg" height="320" width="196" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love to glomp!! <a href="http://funnymama.com/post/178544">Original image</a>.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<i>Just made it! With ONE minute to spare! *wipes brow*</i>Amber T. Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087021598115958337noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522290935304299870.post-53818885137474161152014-04-07T21:15:00.000+01:002014-04-07T21:15:38.986+01:00Flump<span style="color: purple;"><i><b><span style="font-size: large;">F is for Flump</span></b></i></span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
I was teased quite a lot as a child,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
By those who were wicked and wild.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I was always quite plump,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
So they called me a flump</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
As a nickname, though, that was mild.</div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TcVsaa0quEk/U0MG0Uu5wdI/AAAAAAAABlk/85nQv31Wt6A/s1600/51VafcgMf+L._SY300_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TcVsaa0quEk/U0MG0Uu5wdI/AAAAAAAABlk/85nQv31Wt6A/s1600/51VafcgMf+L._SY300_.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Compared to a ball of fluff!! <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Flumps-Annual-1979-Julie-Holder/dp/0723504946">Original image</a>.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Amber T. Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087021598115958337noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522290935304299870.post-9884203115935490352014-04-05T21:01:00.001+01:002014-04-05T21:01:33.430+01:00Eeeeeek!Posting on time today!!!<br />
<br />
<span style="color: purple;"><i><b><span style="font-size: large;">E is for EEEEEEK!!</span></b></i></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Snap decisions are often my bane</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I really have no-one to blame.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Results can be bleak -</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
They make me go EEEEEEEK!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And cause others to think me insane!</div>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2SM1kOCQ304/U0BgnHIHR2I/AAAAAAAABlU/BEeFGW2Pz9U/s1600/Oh_Noooo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2SM1kOCQ304/U0BgnHIHR2I/AAAAAAAABlU/BEeFGW2Pz9U/s1600/Oh_Noooo.jpg" height="251" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Why did I think flower pots were fun??? <a href="http://www.funnykittensite.com/pictures/oh_noooo.htm">Original image</a>.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Amber T. Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087021598115958337noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522290935304299870.post-15420690222891513082014-04-05T00:48:00.000+01:002014-04-05T00:49:06.941+01:00Drinking<span style="color: purple;"><i><b><span style="font-size: large;">D is for Drinking</span></b></i></span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Work is done so I've had some wine,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Though I somehow neglected to dine</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A bit tipsy am I</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
But I still dropped by</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I just hope that this post turns out fine...</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yaYy2rFtS1s/Uz9ECwcF42I/AAAAAAAABlE/1q4WvkGvBY0/s1600/wine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yaYy2rFtS1s/Uz9ECwcF42I/AAAAAAAABlE/1q4WvkGvBY0/s1600/wine.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image my own</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
*** I'm technically a little late in my posting today, but I'm sure that it's still Friday in several parts of the world. I had a 10 hour shift at work today, you see. And... well, and some wine... Amber T. Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087021598115958337noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522290935304299870.post-44493093095592662902014-04-03T22:02:00.006+01:002014-04-03T23:21:24.781+01:00Candy Crush<span style="color: purple;"><i><b><span style="font-size: large;">C is for Candy Crush</span></b></i></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
I hope you will use your discretion</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
As I make a quite shameful confession:</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I admit to a rush</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
When I play Candy Crush - </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It's become my guilty obsession.</div>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LIfHpGgpPa4/Uz3Jo4LV6UI/AAAAAAAABk0/bdjuZcp22d8/s1600/candy_crush_saga_king.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LIfHpGgpPa4/Uz3Jo4LV6UI/AAAAAAAABk0/bdjuZcp22d8/s1600/candy_crush_saga_king.jpg" height="251" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://motls.blogspot.co.uk/2014/03/candy-crush-is-np-hard.html">Original image</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Amber T. Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087021598115958337noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522290935304299870.post-81773407290590198592014-04-02T20:54:00.002+01:002014-04-02T20:54:35.810+01:00Balderdash<i><span style="color: purple;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">B is for Balderdash</span></b></span></i><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
A comma, a dot, or a hash,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Makes my mind become a mish-mash.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I want to hammer </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The rules of grammar</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
As to me it's just all balderdash!</div>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-X-AI99S9q3s/UzxqmaEPiAI/AAAAAAAABkk/KhvNbBo5h8c/s1600/punctuation-marks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-X-AI99S9q3s/UzxqmaEPiAI/AAAAAAAABkk/KhvNbBo5h8c/s1600/punctuation-marks.jpg" height="248" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Say what? <a href="http://cassierief.wordpress.com/tag/punctuation/">Original image</a>.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Amber T. Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087021598115958337noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522290935304299870.post-28561476674348833562014-04-01T09:12:00.003+01:002014-04-01T09:13:01.338+01:00ARGH!My blog has 'procrastination' in the title, my profile has 'procrastinate', 'dither' and 'ramble' in the description, and everyone who knows me even a little bit knows that all of these words are apt when it comes to describing myself. But hey ho, the April A-Z is here once again, and, <i>once again</i>, I have partaken of the crazy juice and signed up for it. So here goes...<br />
<br />
<span style="color: purple;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">A is for ARGH!</span></b></span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
That moment I've dreaded arrives,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It's enough to give me the hives.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I'm a nut, to be sure,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
But I'll make you endure</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
These posts made of bunches of fives!*</div>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZXgmiGWEOB8/Uzp0hJPXcgI/AAAAAAAABkU/of7LhmuoZ-s/s1600/scared.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZXgmiGWEOB8/Uzp0hJPXcgI/AAAAAAAABkU/of7LhmuoZ-s/s1600/scared.gif" height="221" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me this morning. (<a href="http://blog.richmond.edu/psyc200/2009/11/06/scary-statistics/">Original image</a>)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>Note: * Limericks are made up of five lines. Get it?? *shifty*</i>Amber T. Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087021598115958337noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522290935304299870.post-49221572306422140682014-03-10T12:06:00.000+00:002014-03-10T12:06:24.589+00:00Catz & CoziesSo much for my once a week posting, huh? *snort* But you know, life gets in the way (as it is wont to do), and the intention is still firmly in place to post as often as I can, and when I have news to share.<br />
<br />
SO!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eZEU7RvmQR4/Ux2pWWb88DI/AAAAAAAABj4/XYdLTNosgWQ/s1600/tami1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eZEU7RvmQR4/Ux2pWWb88DI/AAAAAAAABj4/XYdLTNosgWQ/s1600/tami1.jpg" height="320" width="284" /></a></div>
Today, I <i>do</i> have some news to share, albeit a friend's news rather than my own. This friend is Tami, otherwise known as Hart Johnson, Alyse Carlson, or The Watery Tart. I have been friends with Tami since 2005, where we 'met' at an online Harry Potter fan site and became mutual fans of each others fan fictions. We both started our writing careers writing tales with Rowling's wonderful characters, and honed our plotting skills playing with alternative back stories, histories, and theories of the world of Harry Potter.<br />
<br />
Tami has recently had her third cozy mystery traditionally published under the pen name of Alyse Carlson, and she is also currently self-publishing a conspiracy series under her Hart Johnson pseudonym. To me, she will always be Tami, though, and the Tami I know shines through in all of her stories. She's fun, fabulous, and feisty - my very favourite type of person! <br />
<br />
I'm going to hand the page over to Tami now, who has written a little something to celebrate her third traditionally published novel.<br />
<br />
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<br />
<div class="Standard">
<b><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">What
is it with Cats and Cozies?</span></b></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Otherwise
known as the pussy puzzle...</span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">See,
this is how I see it... Cats are cuddly and cozy, and as mysteries go, cozies
are cuddly and cozy... they both go very well with a nice cuppa, a comfy chair,
and if the time of year calls for it, a crackling fire.</span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">But
there is also the lesser known ability of cats to solve mysteries. I bet you
didn't know about that. It's because cats are crafty. They lurk and watch and
see stuff, and then they have minions under their control!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No, really. If you ever need a spy, no better
companion than a cat!</span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Case
in point... Ever try hiding?</span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">If
you have a cat, you know this is impossible. They will find you wherever you are
and expose you.</span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">But
think how handy this is if you are the SEEKER!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That cat will expose the person you are seeking quickly!</span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">A
cat's sometimes needed to solve</span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">When
the messiest mysteries involve</span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">boxes
or strings</span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">or
small mouses and things</span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Those
clues that will try our resolve!</span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">No?</span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">I
once knew a pussy detective</span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Who
found killers with speed irrespective</span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Of
status or looks</span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Or
their knowledge from books</span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">It
gave us a whole new perspective</span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Erm...
am I losing you here? Should I get to the point? (Was I supposed to have a
point?)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pretty sure my orders were to
digress...</span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mctAF3WQQBk/Ux2phAocQgI/AAAAAAAABkA/rdzZ80D1u0s/s1600/tami2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mctAF3WQQBk/Ux2phAocQgI/AAAAAAAABkA/rdzZ80D1u0s/s1600/tami2.jpg" height="320" width="198" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Available at <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Keeping-Mum-Garden-Society-Mystery/dp/042525206X/ref=sr_1_9?ie=UTF8&qid=1394452928&sr=8-9&keywords=keeping+mum">Amazon</a> and other retailers</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">So
the Garden Society Mysteries have cats on a couple of covers, and more
importantly there is a vagabond stray who has a cameo in a few of them. Davey
Jones is a tough, but lovable stray who lives by Cam and Annie, and who they
feed and talk to from time to time. It probably would be wise to have him solve
the murder in the next book of the series, don't you think?</span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<b><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Keeping
Mum</span></b><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #333333;">Roanoke, Virginia, is home to some of the country’s most
exquisite gardens, and it’s Camellia Harris’s job to promote them. But when a
political fundraiser turns deadly, everyone’s a candidate for murder…</span></i></span></div>
<div class="Textbody" style="line-height: 14.25pt; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 7.5pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #333333; font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Cam and her best friend, Annie, are planning a gala for a local
Senate candidate—a murder mystery themed silent auction where the guests bid on
who will be the night’s “victim.” Coordinating a beautiful display of fall
flowers and planning the perfect fake crime is hard enough, but with a guest
list that is a “who’s who” of the Roanoke elite, Cam has her hands full
navigating the egos and grudges of her high society guests.</span></div>
<div class="Textbody" style="line-height: 14.25pt; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 7.5pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #333333; font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">When local financial tycoon Derrick Windermere is found dead
next to a shattered pot of chrysanthemums, the night’s fun and games quickly
turn serious. Half the guests had good reason to want Windermere dead, but only
one is suspiciously missing in action—Annie’s father. Now Cam will not only
have to figure out which partygoer is a killer, but find her friend’s father
before all their reputations end up dragged through the mud…(from goodreads.com
and back cover of book)</span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<b><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Alyse
Carlson (aka, Hart Johnson)</span></b><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">
<span style="color: black;">writes books from her bathtub. A social scientist by
day, Hart spends her evenings plotting grand conspiracies and murdering people
on paper. You can learn more about her at her blog: waterytart23.blogspot.com</span></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><span style="color: black;"><i>Thanks, Tami! I'll be adding your book to my bookshelf to match your other two. I LOVE have famous friends. *grins* </i></span></span></div>
Amber T. Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087021598115958337noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522290935304299870.post-12018884206898455532014-02-12T18:10:00.004+00:002014-02-12T18:11:02.328+00:00Windows HateThose of you that know me know that I have terrible luck with laptops. I think I've gone through... 5? maybe 6? ... in the last seven years. I don't know what it is when it comes to me and technology, but we just don't mesh. It's not like I treat my laptop like dirt. I mean, I don't knock it about or anything... and though I admit to A LOT of use (a good six hours on a 'good' day), I don't really download anything, or ask my laptop to do more than allow me to use Word and a couple of social media sites.<br />
<br />
Nevertheless, I seem to average one laptop a year when it comes to killing them. I'm a murderer of laptops. Maybe I shouldn't be called the Princess of Procrastination, but The Laptop Murderer instead.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PRJVCK1ZGxA/Uvu4-DtmtoI/AAAAAAAABjk/TUwa8AJjHwY/s1600/broken+laptop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PRJVCK1ZGxA/Uvu4-DtmtoI/AAAAAAAABjk/TUwa8AJjHwY/s1600/broken+laptop.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After the Tipped Coke Incident</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Anywho, I am currently on my latest new laptop. It should be noted that I had this laptop over two months ago, but it is only now that I'm actually using it. Laptop number 5 (or 6, or whatever it was) lost the will to live back in the summer last year. Probably because I accidentally tipped a glass of diet coke all over it. *shifty* (This is the only laptop that I will take full responsibility over for killing - tipped drink = My Own Fault - all the other laptop deaths I refuse to accept responsibility for without the presence of my lawyer). I think I've actually been scared to use it just in case I send another laptop to Technological Heaven.<br />
<br />
Anyway<i> anyway</i>... now I have a decent laptop. Again. Now I <i>also</i> have a full working keyboard (which honestly, is a bit of a novelty to me seeing as between all the laptop deaths and malfunctions over the last few years, most of the time I've had to make do with a keyboard that has half the letters either missing, or just plain not working).<br />
<br />
So far, so good. The problem is now I also have Windows 8. And I hate it, which explains the title of today's post. Incidentally, I wanted to make up my own word combining 'hate' with 'eight', but all that I got was 'height', which didn't sound like 'hate' at all. *digressing*<br />
<br />
Anyway...<br />
<br />
Windows 8. Why do people mess with things that are working absolutely fine just the way they are? Okay, I realise that technology is always being updated to make things better, but Windows 7 was just fine and dandy as far as I'm concerned. I'm sure that other people think that Windows 8 is the best thing since sliced bread, but personally I don't. I think it sucks. Granted, I don't have a technical brain, so I'm probably not grasping all of the wonderful new things that Windows 8 allows you to do. But still, for <i>my</i> needs, Windows 8 sucks.<br />
<br />
I dread to think how long it will be before I can use this laptop with as much ease as I did the older one, but it won't be any time soon. I've never had this much trouble when using a new laptop in the past. Nothing - NOTHING - works the same. I need to keep asking the hubby how to do the most basic of things. And I do mean basic. Like, you know, switching the laptop on, and shutting it down. *shifty once more*<br />
<br />
Where's the start menu?? *cries*<br />
<br />
And when I hover my mouse too near the right hand side of the screen, strange icons appear from nowhere. I clicked on one by mistake last night and I have NO idea where it took me. And, as hubby wasn't around, it took me ten minutes to figure out how to close the damn thing.<br />
<br />
Where's the trusty 'close' icon in the top right hand corner? *cries again*<br />
<br />
And the desktop keeps hiding from me. *glares at laptop*<br />
<br />
As for downloading... I downloaded the free Kindle app this morning, and before I could download it, I was forced into creating a Microsoft account. WHY?? I never had to have one before.<br />
<br />
Ugh.<br />
<br />
So yeah, I hate Windows 8. On the bright side, I LOVE being able to type properly again! *silver lining*Amber T. Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087021598115958337noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522290935304299870.post-72388898043383874612014-02-03T09:06:00.000+00:002014-02-03T09:06:06.251+00:00Paperback PrincessHello!!<br />
<br />
A quick one this week! I mentioned last week that IF THE SHOE FITS was trickling into retailers in paperback form, and now I can safely say that it's available at most online retailers.*squee* How do I know? Well, first I checked a few places, but more importantly, I also ordered myself a copy. I was pretty impressed, too. I was a bit leery as the paperback is issued via print on demand (POD), but I needn't have worried. I ordered the book on Tuesday last week via Amazon UK, and it arrived a mere two days later. And the quality is fab, too, which is obviously important. Here is my daughter reading it... and it just tickles me no end every time I see this! It's like release day all over again!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nqEueIwlqvs/Uu9ZTDSPSiI/AAAAAAAABjQ/DWO60dNYxcI/s1600/ellie%2526book.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nqEueIwlqvs/Uu9ZTDSPSiI/AAAAAAAABjQ/DWO60dNYxcI/s1600/ellie%2526book.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
The drawback with print on demand is that I have to buy my own copies for giveaways and signings, but my plan is to buy a couple of copies every month, which I will use for online giveaways, and maybe set up a small signing event in my home town.<br />
<br />
In other book news, my publisher, <a href="http://www.crimsonromance.com/featured/valentines-month-sale/">Crimson Romance</a>, has teamed up with Amazon.com to offer their entire 2012/2013 backlist titles at $1.99 each for the month of February! So now would be a great time to fill your Kindle with goodies! And an unexpected bonus is that it seems the sale has also extended to other Amazon domains, too. I spotted IF THE SHOE FITS at the bargain price of £1.24 on Amazon UK, and my fellow Crimson authors have reported slashed prices in other countries, too.<br />
<br />
In more personal news, I've managed to lose 4lbs in my first week of dieting. Yay! Hopefully I can keep up the momentum. *fingers crossed* I've a long way to go, but this first week's results are definitely encouraging!<br />
<br />
That's it for this week, so short and sweet it is. I want to mix things up a bit for my blog posts, so next week will see less of the book stuff, and more of my personal brand of craziness. You have been warned! *snort*<br />
<br />
Ta-ta for now!Amber T. Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087021598115958337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522290935304299870.post-31555320696605861322014-01-27T10:00:00.003+00:002014-01-27T10:05:37.411+00:00Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes!!Hello, it's only me!!<br />
<br />
Yes, I know it's been a while, but I'm still around. Never has there been a more apt blog title than 'Princess of Procrastination'...(and that's a major understatement).<br />
<br />
People who know me know just how notoriously BAD I am at keeping up with stuff. I'm pretty sure I have a defective gene when it comes to keeping to a schedule. There are lots of genuine reasons for the lack of blog posts (my full time job, health stuff, lack of inspiration etc), but mostly it's just a case of good old (or<i> bad</i> old) procrastination. I've taken some steps to try and help with this, though.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eG-xA4VymdM/UuYrxHEXxJI/AAAAAAAABi8/8PXXcIQlhaI/s1600/iftheshoefitscover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eG-xA4VymdM/UuYrxHEXxJI/AAAAAAAABi8/8PXXcIQlhaI/s1600/iftheshoefitscover.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Book One of The Furry Tale Chronicles</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The biggest step was deciding to lay to rest my other blog. I had the best of intentions when I created my Furry Tales Chronicles blog. I wanted to keep my book stuff separate, and continue with the sillies on THIS blog. Trouble is, I can't keep up with <i>one</i> blog, never mind two, and knowing I was neglecting two blogs just made me feel a bit overwhelmed. I'll be posting a short note over there to redirect anyone who stumbles across it over here. I<i> had</i> deleted it initially, but then I realised that the web address is advertised on my publisher's website AND in my 'about the author' notes in my Crimson book. (Duh). But after my little note, there won't be anything new posted over there.<br />
<br />
You'll notice that I've added some page tabs at the top of the page. These are just to include the information that was listed on my other blog (see, I did the job properly!). I'm going to do my very best to blog every Monday or Tuesday over here. My usual silliness, most likely (of course!), peppered with personal stuff, and book related stuff as and when there is anything interesting to tell.<br />
<br />
Of course, it is January, the month where most people decide to give themselves a kick up the butt, so it's probably no surprise that I decided NOW to be a bit more proactive in my fight against procrastination. But despite 2013 being a GREAT year for me (two books released - yay!), it was also a bit of a sucky year as well. My health hasn't been great, my writing projects received little to no attention, my finances have been skewered, and I've struggled to keep my episodic depression at bay.<br />
<br />
I'm determined to do better this year. I want at least one more book under my belt by the end of 2014, and hopefully I can get another novella released, too. I've already been working on SOUL IDENTITY (my epic fantasy), which I plan to publish under my real name when it's eventually finished (most of you know that I publish under a pen name for my romances). And the second of my Furry Tale Chronicles book is well under way. Looking good, so far!<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hKtzDLqa6IE/UuYql3ps9jI/AAAAAAAABis/sO_u3QO73cw/s1600/me+and+kids.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hKtzDLqa6IE/UuYql3ps9jI/AAAAAAAABis/sO_u3QO73cw/s1600/me+and+kids.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wedding Wake up call: My son, my daughter, me, & my step-daughter.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
My last bit of personal stuff for today is a public declaration of my intention to lose weight this year. You may remember that I lost a whopping 42lbs a few years ago. Unfortunately (as so often happens with us chronic dieters), I put every last pound back on again. *sighs* I <i>did</i> make an effort last year and managed to lose (and keep off) 14lbs, but I gave up far too quickly. Today is the day that I start my new plan. Doctors would tell me that I need to lose 45-50lbs to fall in the 'healthy range', but I'm hoping for a more realistic loss of 30lbs for the time being. That would be put me at around the same weight that I was three years ago, and you know, it felt... nice... not too thin, but definitely not fat. I was recently a bridesmaid for my sister in law, and it was looking at the pictures that gave me the kick up the butt that I needed. Of course, I knew I'd put on weight, but there is nothing like seeing a picture of yourself where you think you look OK, and seeing just how big you've become, to shock you into action. Oh, I know I'm not <i>monstrously </i>huge, but if I'm cringing at the picture, then it's a sure sign that it's time to do something.<br />
<br />
I'm not brave enough to publicly announce my actual weight, but I will be giving a weekly update on pounds lost (and not gained, hopefully) over the next few months. Accountability helps.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w260XfclGnk/UuYrGbpKr_I/AAAAAAAABi0/u-zD-JSKZxE/s1600/meet+me+halfway.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w260XfclGnk/UuYrGbpKr_I/AAAAAAAABi0/u-zD-JSKZxE/s1600/meet+me+halfway.jpg" height="320" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Christmas novella, released in December</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
My last bit of news today (sorry for the extremely long post, but you know, it <i>has</i> been a while *snort*), is that IF THE SHOE FITS is now available in paperback! Yay! I'll get to hold my first book baby in my hands! So far it's only popping up in the US (I've seen it both at <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/if-the-shoe-fits-amber-t-smith/1115218276?ean=9781440567155">Barnes & Noble</a> and <a href="http://www.amazon.com/If-Shoe-Fits-Amber-Smith/dp/1440567158/ref=tmm_pap_title_0">Amazon</a>), but it should be showing up in the UK (and other countries, via Amazon) over the next few weeks. I'm tentatively thinking about putting my self-pubbed Christmas novella, MEET ME HALFWAY, out in paperback, too, but at the moment that one is still only available through Amazon's Kindle. I'll let you know if and when that changes!<br />
<br />
That's it for now! I'll see you next week, when I'll have some news about promotional stuff for IF THE SHOE FITS. *grins*Amber T. Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087021598115958337noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522290935304299870.post-9134161674487371572013-09-20T11:03:00.001+01:002013-09-20T18:28:16.350+01:00On This DayI've had another one of those blogging breaks, which happen far more often than I'd like them to. This time around, it has been almost three months since I last blogged. I knew what I wanted to blog about when I came back - it's something that I have wanted to blog about for almost as long as I have been blogging - and my plan had been to blog on the 26th of this month, because it fell on the anniversary of something important to me. But it occurred to me this morning that <i>today </i>is actually the real anniversary for me, for it was on the 20th September 1999 that my life changed drastically.<br />
<br />
That might sound overly dramatic, but it is true nonetheless. Now, I am the self-styled Princess of Procrastination. A humorous title, to go with a blog that, for the most part, is pure silliness. For anyone reading this, I should probably warn you that today's post is about as far from silliness as you can get.<br />
<br />
But how do I start?<br />
<br />
Perhaps I need to explain a little about the morning of September 20th, 1999.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dnYU75xel4Q/UjwU_dy8TeI/AAAAAAAABeI/c1J_abrZ1RY/s1600/Wedding2004001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dnYU75xel4Q/UjwU_dy8TeI/AAAAAAAABeI/c1J_abrZ1RY/s320/Wedding2004001.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My son, aged eight.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I was 23 at the time. I had the day off from work, but I was awake early anyway. My son was three at the time, and I had to have him ready for nursery that morning. Although it was long before I found out that my son had D.A.M.P. Syndrome (a blanket term for several spectrum disorders), I knew he wasn't quite the same as the other kids at his nursery. He was, even then, showing his obsessive tendencies. He had already started to worry me with his refusal to eat almost everything we gave to him. His accent was purely American, despite the fact that we lived in Cardiff, the capital city of Wales. Although I didn't know at the time, these were classic symptoms of D.A.M.P. Syndrome. But, he was also a loving child, and despite his problems, I never really had any trouble with him when he was a toddler.<br />
<br />
I was bubbling with excitement on that particular day. After taking my son to nursery, I went home for an hour or so, and then, with my partner, left to meet my parents. I was scheduled for an ultrasound later that morning, and it was the all-important second scan where, as long as they could catch the right angle, I would find out the sex of my baby. I wanted a girl. I'd <i>always</i> wanted a girl. I'd wanted a daughter the first time around, though I was perfectly happy when I had my son, of course. But I was still young enough - and really, 23 is still only a baby - to want to have a little girl who I could clothe in pretty little dresses with lace and frills and other fripperies. My partner wanted a girl this time around, too.<br />
<br />
So there we were, a young couple, incredibly happy, and overflowing with excitement. There were two things that we wanted that morning. First, we wanted to see those fuzzy black and white pictures, showing our baby, and hear the incredible whooshing sound of the heartbeat of a healthy child. And then we wanted to ask the sex of our child.<br />
<br />
This is when my life changed, and nothing in my 23 years of living could have prepared me. With hindsight, I can see that maybe I should have had an inkling of what was to come, but at the time, I was too busy being happy. I didn't actually see those fuzzy black and white pictures on the screen - perhaps there is a protocol for situations like these, but truthfully, I don't know. But I <i>did</i> hear that lovely reassuring heartbeat, and I still had a few more seconds of ignorant bliss.<br />
<br />
When the radiologist turned to me with a grave look on her face, I started to feel a little nervous. My mother was sat in the room, my partner was holding my hand, and I could see that they both looked a little worried, too. The radiologist quickly popped her head through the door and asked for a doctor, who appeared almost immediately. A minute or two passed while they studied the screen, and then the doctor calmly turned to me and gently told me that my baby had severe spina bifida and encephalitis.<br />
<br />
I only really have impressions of that moment. I don't remember the exact words, just my partner's hand gripping my own, and the incredible feeling of shock that I had. When you hear the term 'reeling with shock', it is exactly right. It sounds strange, but I can clearly remember feeling as if a great force had hit me; my body went numb, and my face felt like someone was stretching it. That's the only way I can describe it. It was suffocating. And there was the strange horror of being told that your baby was essentially dying, which didn't make any sense to me when I could still hear the whooshing heartbeat, and could still feel her moving inside of me.<br />
<br />
Yes, it was a girl. The girl we'd all wanted. Not that it would have been easier to hear if it had been a boy, of course, but somehow it was worse to know that it was a girl.<br />
<br />
Everything was a blur after that. The gentle ushering from the room, the more detailed explanations in the doctor's office, and the discreet removal from the antenatal ward through the staff hallways, to avoid the waiting room full of happy, expectant mothers.<br />
<br />
Despite my initial conviction that I would still have - and love - my daughter no matter what, there was never really any question over what would happen. My daughter had the very <i>worst</i> of worst case scenarios. She would not have survived the pregnancy, never mind the birth. Then followed six days and nights of incredible grief, mingled with continuing disbelief. I couldn't get my head around the fact that my daughter wouldn't survive. I couldn't understand how she could be dying when I could feel her moving around almost constantly.<br />
<br />
I had what was termed a 'theraputic termination of pregnancy'. I didn't want to, but there was never really a choice. If she could have survived, I would never have dreamt of doing it. But there was no chance of that. I already had a little boy who was showing mental illness indications- watching his mother grow huge with a child that he would never even see could have caused him untold damage. And despite my horror at the thought of what I was about to do (I've <i>never</i> believed in abortions), I knew that there was no other way.<br />
<br />
I won't go into any details of the events of September 26th, except to say that it was a full labour. Apparently that is the safest thing for the mother in situations like these. I was half way through my pregnancy, and the labour was as brutal as if it had been a full-term birth. Except, of course, that in every minute of those long 10 hours, I was aware of the fact that there would be no joy at the end of it.<br />
<br />
There were so many heartbreaking moments during the whole process. Of course, I was utterly devastated throughout, but there were also the moments when, incredibly, the pain was worse than ever, and it would hit me like a punch to the gut, echoing my initial reaction to the first time I was told my daughter wouldn't survive. The birth itself was a painful haze, and I thought I couldn't possibly survive it. The morning after, when I started producing milk, was almost as bad as the labour itself. Then the nightmare days that followed, trying to stay bright and cheerful for my son, trying to pretend that everything was OK. The endless crying. Most of all, the sight of my partner carrying that tiny white coffin on the day we buried her.<br />
<br />
Fourteen years later, I still don't think I'll ever fully recover from the loss of my daughter. I don't think anyone ever <i>truly</i> recovers from an experience like that. There are a multitude of horrors in this world, but the loss of a child is profound, and it changes you.<br />
<br />
I went on to have another daughter, but she hasn't replaced my first. I remember her every day, and always <br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BuOfQp0D4mc/UjwWZAjl6EI/AAAAAAAABes/5fzLtGgbY8U/s1600/12910_10151100332006375_561388708_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BuOfQp0D4mc/UjwWZAjl6EI/AAAAAAAABes/5fzLtGgbY8U/s320/12910_10151100332006375_561388708_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My son and daughter.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
will. My son doesn't remember anything of these events, although he knows what happened. I'm thankful for that. And while I'll always grieve for my lost daughter, I'm always mindful of the fact that she made it possible for my second daughter to exist. It doesn't make it any less painful, but it at least makes me feel that I'm not a terrible mother for making the 'choice' that I did.<br />
<br />
I love all my children equally, whether they're with me or not. My two living children, who make me proud every day. The daughter I lost. And Baby Smith, who I miscarried over twenty years ago. All loved. And all a part of my family.<br />
<br />
So today I remember my first daughter, six days ahead of her birthday. I remember that, despite the trauma and heartbreak of her birth and death, I have a lot to be thankful for. I have two beautiful children, the second of which wouldn't be here if my first daughter had survived.<br />
<br />
Can one child ever replace another? Of course not. As I said, I love all my children equally, and there will always be grief in my life for the daughter who wasn't meant to be. But I am recovered as much as I ever could be. It's always painful to think of her, but the tears eventually stopped. When I think of her now, I still hear the whooshing of her heartbeat, and remember the feeling of her moving inside of me. Strangely, that comforts me. She was with me for so short a time, but I at least have memories of her being alive. And because of that, her memory will always live on.<br />
<br />
<i>Dedicated to Amber Marie Smith. </i><br />
<br />
<br />Amber T. Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087021598115958337noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522290935304299870.post-54624963088404979882013-06-28T23:18:00.002+01:002013-06-28T23:18:58.523+01:00Upsell in a Nutshell*dusts off blog*<br />
<br />
<i>So I've been in the doldrums lately, what with one thing and another, so I figured it was time for a silly post. With that in mind, I've tracked down Ima Nutcase, the elusive reporter from The Daily Ramble, and got her to interview yours truly...</i><br />
<br />
<br />
Hello everyone! Ima Nutcase here, and I have another exclusive interview with the Taffiest of authors, Tara Smith, who writes under the pen name of Amber T. Smith. The last time we caught up with Ms Smith was just over a year ago, when I was sadly <a href="http://procrastinatewithtundiel.blogspot.co.uk/search/label/The%20Daily%20Ramble">misinformed of her premature death</a>. As much as a journalist strives to report only the absolute truth, it seems I was duped into writing a false article, and though it pains me to retract my words (professional pride and all), I am also very happy to discover that Ms Smith is alive and well. And apparently still 23 years old. <i>Note to self: must discover how this lady has stayed 23 for the three years in which I have been interviewing her. </i><br />
<br />
Without further ado, here's the interview!<br />
<br />
Ima: Good evening, Tara! It's been a while since we last chatted - tell me, what's been happening this last year?<br />
<br />
Tara: Well, I got my book published a few months ago, which was nice! I'm pretty sure I've probably scared the people who have actually bought it, what with the insanely silly plotline, but everyone knew I was nuts anyway, so I'm not overly worried about that...<br />
<br />
Ima: Yes. Well. *coughs* That really is great news!!<br />
<br />
Tara: Yes, I thought so, too! Of course, I'm not going to be quitting my day job any time soon, but it's a start!<br />
<br />
Ima: Indeed. Remind me what your day job is...?<br />
<br />
Tara: I work in a covenience store called 'Spar'.<br />
<br />
Ima: And your job entails...?<br />
<br />
Tara: I work the stock, and serve as a cashier on the tills. And I upsell.<br />
<br />
Ima: Excuse me... upsell?<br />
<br />
Tara: Would you like to try some lovely scones, madam? Eight for a pound!<br />
<br />
Ima: Erm, not at present, thank you all the same. Now then, upselling?<br />
<br />
Tara: I have some fresh bananas on offer, madam,would you like any? Only a pound!<br />
<br />
Ima: Er...<br />
<br />
Tara: I see you're buying gammon, madam. How about a lovely fresh pineapple? On offer for a pound this week!<br />
<br />
Ima: I really didn't...<br />
<br />
Tara: Crumpets!<br />
<br />
Ima: <i>WHAT??</i><br />
<br />
Tara: Only a pound!!<br />
<br />
Ima: Well really, this is getting ridiculous...<br />
<br />
Tara: What day is it?<br />
<br />
Ima: Er, Friday. But what does that - ?<br />
<br />
Tara: Would you like to buy a bonus ball for the lottery this Saturday? Two pounds a ticket, fifty pounds if you win, and all proceeds go to the NSPCC!<br />
<br />
Ima: *is befuddled*<br />
<br />
Tara: No? Don't like your chances? Well, for that same two pounds, you could have TWO punnets of strawberries! Only a POUND each! Bargain!<br />
<br />
Ima: Look, I really only came here for an interview...<br />
<br />
Tara: Nooooo! I have to upsell! It's in my contract! *eyes glaze over*<br />
<br />
Ima: *starts to back away*<br />
<br />
Tara: Plums! Only a pound!<br />
<br />
Ima: *makes mental note to avoid crazy Taffy woman in the future*<br />
<br />
Tara: Wait! You can't go yet!You haven't bought any Frazzles! Six packets for a pound!<br />
<br />
Ima: I DON'T WANT ANY FRAZZLES!<br />
<br />
Clearly, Ms Smith has lost the plot. Whether she regains her sanity remains to be seen, but I'm afraid this reporter is beating a hasty retreat. This is Ima Nutcase, reporting for The Daily...oh my giddyauntie, she's chasing me now!!!<br />
<br />
Ima: *runs*<br />
<br />
Tara: *chases reporter* We still have 350 packets of Hot Cross Buns! Just buy <i>one</i> packet...please! Only a pound! *cackles madly* <br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5KsPsUKTxuM/Uc4LsFJpInI/AAAAAAAABcU/xd0cpnbf95A/s481/8ea2c8fea6c3482eadcf1b66dedbeb82.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5KsPsUKTxuM/Uc4LsFJpInI/AAAAAAAABcU/xd0cpnbf95A/s320/8ea2c8fea6c3482eadcf1b66dedbeb82.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://images.gameskinny.com/gameskinny/8ea2c8fea6c3482eadcf1b66dedbeb82.jpg">Original image</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Amber T. Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087021598115958337noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7522290935304299870.post-32782181875818895762013-05-17T18:41:00.000+01:002013-05-17T18:46:25.765+01:00The Best/Worst Movie Remakes BlogfestSo I totally forgot that I signed up for this blogfest - hosted by <a href="http://alexjcavanaugh.blogspot.com/">Ninja Alex</a>, <a href="http://authorstephentremp.blogspot.com/">Stephen Tremp</a>, <a href="http://fatherdragon.blogspot.com/">Father Dragon Al</a> and <a href="http://leaveittolivia.blogspot.com/">Livia Peterson</a>. But that's cool, because this post will be really simple, and it won't require me to use my brain. Phew - that's good, because my brain is fried...<br />
<br />
<span style="color: purple;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span>
<span style="color: purple;"><i><b>Best Movie Remake!</b></i></span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ot0biBbQHnc/UZZofWE_v6I/AAAAAAAABaQ/ijrrt1pej8k/s1600/2005_king_kong_74-702466-thumb-200x218.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ot0biBbQHnc/UZZofWE_v6I/AAAAAAAABaQ/ijrrt1pej8k/s1600/2005_king_kong_74-702466-thumb-200x218.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://blogs.laweekly.com/informer/2010/06/king_kong_360_ride_in_3-d_unve.php">Original Image</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
I think the one that springs to mind is Peter Jackson's King Kong. Although it has a bit too much of the cheesies going on, the effects in all of the Kong scenes are brilliant, and I love how they gave that giant ape some human shortcomings.<br />
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<br />
<span style="color: purple;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span>
<span style="color: purple;"><i><b>Worst Movie Remake!</b></i></span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uvXQqtqlIm0/UZZqRQrNJAI/AAAAAAAABac/zqU7HUEwW9U/s1600/Charlie-and-the-Chocolate-Factory-charlie-and-the-chocolate-factory-22689617-951-756.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="254" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uvXQqtqlIm0/UZZqRQrNJAI/AAAAAAAABac/zqU7HUEwW9U/s320/Charlie-and-the-Chocolate-Factory-charlie-and-the-chocolate-factory-22689617-951-756.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://images4.fanpop.com/image/photos/22600000/Charlie-and-the-Chocolate-Factory-charlie-and-the-chocolate-factory-22689617-951-756.jpg">Original Image</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
It has to be Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. I'm sorry, but even though I love Johnny Depp, he just couldn't top Gene Wilder in this role. I found this remake WAY too much. I normally love over the top-ness, but this was just ridiculously silly. And not true to the book. 'Nuff said.<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: purple;"><i><b>Princess Plea</b></i></span><br />
<br />
Somebody please, please help!! I'm supposed to post the linky list with all of the participants, but it's Friday, I've just finished work for the week, and my brain is currently a squishy mass of gloop. Can somebody tell me how to add the linky list? Thanks!<br />
<br />
And thanks to Ninja Alex, Stephen, Dragon Al and Livia for hosting this fun and simple blogfest!<br />
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<br />Amber T. Smithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087021598115958337noreply@blogger.com20