Missing: Blogging Mojo!

You know, I wasn't really too worried at first when my Blogging Mojo went walkabout. I mean, it's not like it hasn't happened before. *shifty* But it's been three months - to the day!- since he blew in my ear and massaged my shoulders (for the clueless, my Writing/Blogging Mojo is a combination of Aragorn [the Viggo Mortensen version], Damon Salvatore, Dean Winchester, and Spartacus), and now I really need him to return as soon as possible.

Oi! Mojo! Break time is over!

To be fair, he hasn't been entirely absent. He pops up whenever he can *coughs* and has been very helpful when it came to working on my new chick-litty manuscript.  In fact, he's been particularly helpful when it comes to writing certain scenes (mostly the innuendo-y type scenes, obviously). I'm not finished by a long shot (and neither is he, hopefully), but I'm sure I can rely on him to continue his brand of encouragement.

But he needs to be thoroughly chastised for his neglect with the blog cheer leading. He hasn't waved his pom-poms at me for far too long. So I am cracking my whip and bringing him to attention.

To keep him poised, he needs a little encouragement of his own. Some incentive, you might say. I've tried the usual suspects - chocolate, champagne, feather boas, that sort of thing - but I think he's more in need of mental stimulation. With the October NaBloWriMo just around the corner (or, the October Marathon, as I like to call it), he's going to need more stimulation than ever. What better way to do that than firing some requests his way?

Or, to put it another way, I want to blog and I have no ideas. But that's not nearly as much fun as talking about mojos, feather boas and pom-poms...

Anywho, despite my hit and miss record when it comes to requests, I'm giving it a shot for October, so I need thirty prompts. I realise there's thirty-one days in October, but the last day is traditionally reserved for reminiscing, so thirty is the amount of requests required (wow, a lot of 'r' words in that last sentence).

So... hit me...

Image borrowed from here.

M is for...

Things That Make You Go Mmmmmmmm...

Hot dirty rangers that make me drool.

Bad boy vampires who dress super cool.

Mojos are sacred,

Especially when naked -

Great for wrestling in a pudding pool!

Image borrowed from here.

Viggolicious

Weesa's fourth request was simply 'Viggo'. Now for those of you who wouldn't have had a clue what that was, then shame on you! *wags finger*. For those of you who have known me for longer than five minutes, please stop rolling your eyes. Yes, I know I'm slightly obsessed, and have been for a long time, but I swear I have it under control now. Honest.

For those of you who still don't know what I am talking about, I am, of course, rambling about the one and only Viggo Mortensen, who is, just as the title suggests, Viggolicious. Or Viggorgeous. Or Viggolickinggood, you decide. Viggo is pretty much any and all of the above, and has been my primary mojo for a good number of years now.

I first discovered Viggo Delight when I watched the Fellowship of the Ring back in 2002 (where he played Aragorn - you with me now?). To be honest, I took only a fleeting interest in the gorgeousness that was Viggo at first, in fact (and this makes me shudder with horror), I almost missed out completely. My daughter was only a few weeks old at the time, so any movie watching was mixed with feeding, cuddling, and praying for the baby so sleep for a little longer than ten minutes at a time. Hence, Viggo Mania almost passed me by.

Of course, 'almost' is the key word there, because quite obviously Viggo Mania did not pass me by. *coughs*

My first clear sighting of His Hotness was in a scene where you see little more than his face, but all I could think was, Hoo Boy, if his face makes my knees go weak, what the heck will I be like when I see him properly? A few moments later he had a classic Manly Aragorn Moment, where he practically throws young Frodo up the stairs (and there was much rejoicing) and practices his Menacing Glare. *fans self*

As if that wasn't enough, not long after, he whips out his sword. I was suckered, well and truly. *nods wisely*

Thankfully there were two further installments to The Lord of the Rings, including the fabulous second movie, The Two Towers, which carries almost infinite freeze frame moments. We have plenty of Hot Dirty Ranger moments, for example, where Aragorn/Viggo is suitably muddied and grubby (and frankly much hotter than when he is Kingly Aragorn After A Shave).Then we have lots of Hot Ranger With A Big Sword moments too, obviously. Not to mention the infamous Bursting Through Door Moment (I think I may have ruined my first DVD copy at this point of the movie, actually [yes, I have three copies of each of the three movies - better safe than sorry, you know *shifty*]). Alas, google images is not being very forthcoming, and my vast picture collection (over 200 pictures at last glance) is lost forever on the deceased laptop of last year. *sighs sadly*, so I can't demonstrate these various Viggolicious moments.

But it's not all about the Lord of the Rings, oh dear me, no!

Who remembers G.I. Jane? Not the best movie ever made to be sure, but with strategically placed shots of Demi Moore doing press-ups (for the boys), and Hoo Ya Master Chief close ups of Viggo in tight little shorts (for me, er, I mean the girls), it was bound to be a hit. *coughs*

All silliness aside, Mr. Mortensen is not only one of the hottest people on the planet, but seemingly a really nice bloke too. Having watched the multiple hours of extras on all three of the Lord of the Rings DVDs (well, all six really, because I have both the theatre releases and the extended versions of the trilogy, and each disc has plenty of bonus features. What do you mean, I'm overly obsessed? Don't be ridiculous!), it's plain that everyone who worked with Viggo really admired him, both for his professionalism, and his wonderfully generous nature (as well as his strong sense of fun).

Honestly, a man who is physically gorgeous, is unfailingly nice and genuine with it, has a sense of humour,  is a doting father (yup, he has a son), and is well known for choosing his partners for their personality and individualism as well as (and sometimes in spite of) their looks. what woman could fail to be a little bit in love with him?

And he paints too - and also publishes his own photography and poetry. And to top it all, he sings in Elvish (that's Elvish, as in Tolkein, not Elvis as in uh huh huh, thankyouverymuch). Honestly, what's a girl to do, other than swoon just a little bit while she tries not to drown in a puddle of drool...

Ah Viggo, I love you.

Dear Writing Mojo

Dear Writing Mojo,

I realise that it has been quite some time since I required your services, but I am currently gearing up to participate in BuNoWriMo, which is, as I'm sure you know, a rip off borrowed concept of the more widely known NaNoWriMo. In just a few short days I shall find myself invisibly glued to my laptop in order to write around 1800 words a day for the duration of the month of June.

Now, as I'm sure you'll remember, you serviced me greatly last November when I took part in the previously mentioned NaNoWriMo. You weren't always obvious with your mentoring - indeed, some days I suspect you escaped to the local pub for a bevvy or two - but for the most part you did your job well. By the skin of my teeth, I finished my novel with a final word count of 50,091. Yay!

This time around, I wanted to make sure that you knew what your actual requirements were, for when you are employed as a Writing Mojo, there are certain things that you must be able to do. For instance, you must be able to be around as and when you are required, preferably during daylight hours, and most especially when I am without my children.

That means no more trips to the local pub.*glares*

Next, I would require you to maintain full cheerleader skills for the entire month. An aspiring author needs a little pom-pom waving and verbal encouragement on a daily basis if she wishes to achieve her goal. For that purpose, I am providing you with full outfit and accessories in order for you to fulfil your cheerleader requirements.

Now, seeing as 'Mojo' is part of your title, I am also demanding that you take the form of one of my mojos whenever you are in residence. I am not going to be overly picky here and demand a particular persona for you, but if you would be so good as to take the form of Jensen Ackles, Viggo Mortensen, Gerard Butler, Ian Somerhalder, or that bloke from Spartacus: Blood and Sand, I would be suitably grateful. And if you combine both mojo and cheer leading elements at the same time, I assure you that I would be most demonstrative with my gratitude.

Next up is something that is crucial to achieving my BuNoWriMo Winner status. You must - I repeat must - be sure to punish me when I am slacking. If you were to find me playing Bejeweled Blitz, for example, a thorough spanking would definitely be in order. Indeed, nothing else would do.

And if you catch me procrastinating in any way on Facebook or HPANA, then you have my full permission to put me in chains and punish me in which ever way you deem fit (I would suggest whips, and maybe a little ice cream, but the choice would be yours, of course).

When it comes to the actual writing of my BuNoWriMo novel, I have a couple of other demands requests. Obviously I will have to include several pussy jokes in the manuscript - one can't have a talking cat in a story and not have pussy jokes after all - but I would humbly ask that you keep an eye on me in case I go overboard. It's never a good idea to overuse a pussy, as I'm sure you'll agree.

Another thing is is innuendo. Once again, there has to be a certain amount of innuendo in this type of novel, but in order for me not to go crazy and include innuendo in every other sentence, I shall require you to nibble my earlobes at frequent intervals. The pleasure pain from these timely reminders should hopefully be enough to override any innuendo impulses that I may experience. *shifty*

Lastly, in order for me to truly succeed, my fingers will need to be in prime condition in order for me to type properly. As I'm sure you are aware, fingers that aren't in prime condition are liable to produce copious typos and spelling errors when one is writing a novel on one's laptop. After last year's NaNoWriMo effort - which I suspect had larger numbers of incorrectly spelled words than correctly spelled words - you really must make more of an effort this year. Suitable treatments for producing perfectly pliable fingers include massage and manicures, though my personal preference would be for you to suck on them occasionally. I really find that this type of treatment can work wonders on poor, overworked, and aching extremities.

If you could just confirm that the above suggestions are agreeable, I would be most grateful. I humbly ask that you reply as soon as you possibly could as I am anxious to get matters settled before the end of the month.

Sincerely,

Tara Smith

Magnificent Mojos

This request buisness has been pretty good for my writing mojo. After successfully blogging for two solid months, then being pretty good in December (I managed to blog 15 times, which when I think about how mad December was, is not bad at all), I virtually disappeared. This is blog number eleven of 2010. Bad. Very bad. Anyway, as I was saying, this request malarkey is great, because it appears that by having someone suggest a topic for me, it has actually pushed me into writing regularly again. Okay, so we are only on the fifth consecutive day now, but my blog count for January was a big fat zero, while February only had one blog posted for the entire month.

Moving on.

My fave NaNo novel illustrator, Ana, came up with her second topic suggestion for this round of requests, and as usual, she has picked something close to my heart. Namely mojos.

Now, I have blogged about mojos before. In fact, I seem to remember saying that my 'Mojo Moments' would be a semi-regular blog topic. *coughs*  My first Mojo Moment was way back in my first week of blogging, and was all about my ultimate mojo, Aragorn (of Lord of the Rings fame). I rambled extensively about the advantages of being hot, dirty, and owning a big sword. Good fun for all, I would think. I think I forgot all about my intention of blogging about mojos semi-regularly after that (forgetfulness is one of the banes of being a procrastinator), until about seven weeks later.

The madness of November (NaNoWriMo anyone?) ended on a surprising high when I not only managed to blog almost every day (I missed once), but I also managed to complete the 50,000 word novel challenge that I had been suckered into by my good friend Tami (Confessions of a Watery Tart). What better way to celebrate than to blog all about the mojo that is Dean Winchester (a.k.a. Jensen Ackles) of Supernatural fame?  I got to insert plenty of innuendo into my post (always a good thing), managed to include several increasingly hot pictures of said mojo, and was also able to use copious amounts of asteriskisms, which are quite possibly my favorite things in the world. *fondly remembers asteriskisms blog post* [/shameless self-plugging once more].

Anywho, after only a mere *shifty* six months, here I am blogging about mojos again. Okay, so far all I have done is ramble about my previous blogs and added links (shameless plugs) to several things (mostly because I'm still strangely impressed that I can actually do this kind of thing without stuffing it up)  but I'm getting to new stuff, I swear.

My Mojo Cupboard is pretty full, I have to admit. Accompanying Aragorn the Hot and Dean the Droolworthy are more than a handful of gorgeous hunks that, as far as I'm concerned, were put on this earth for the purpose of making me (and several million other women) drool. Yes, I know that's a bit shallow.... Tara, these men are people too, not just eye candy! They are talented as well as hot, and would probably be insulted if they thought people only liked them for their looks.... but honestly, the whole point of mojos is that they give visual pleasure (at the very least) to hoards of women all over the world, and are unavailable, thus safe to fantasize over. Yes, they're intelligent, talented people who are more than just merely good -looking actors (or fictional characters, as the case may be), but when we fantasize about our mojos, we aren't imagining how sexy they would be if they were working out a quadratic equation.

And lets face it, mojos are perfect fantasy material. I'm pretty sure that there isn't a single perfect person, be it male or female, in the world right now. Everyone has faults, no matter how nice they are. But mojos are perfect. They always look perfect, always act in the way that you love, and sometimes wear sexy lingerie just the way you like it *coughs* Find me a man like that in real life and I'll eat my laptop. And this is why we love our mojos. It's pure escapism, fun, and a little bit naughty to have private droolfests over people we are never likely to meet in a million years. And quite honestly, I'm pretty sure that most of my mojos, while publicly holding themselves aloof, are privately a little bit chuffed that they bring so much pleasure to women all over the world. At least, I like to think so.

I suppose I can't finish today's blog without having a proper Mojo Moment. I've rambled a fair bit already, but haven't actually mentioned any of my other mojos. I could wax lyrical about Mr. Darcy, or perhaps enthusiastically witter away about Johnny Depp, but I think I'm going to go with Ian Somerhalder. Mr. Somerhalder stars as Damon Salvatore in the American TV series The Vampire Diaries.

Now, I've blogged before about my TV addictions, and this series is another habit that I have. I'm not one for vampires in general; I can't stand anything to do with Twilight, and the phenomenon that is True Blood has completely passed me by. To be truthful, The Vampire Diaries is not that great; the plot is contrived, the characters predictable, and the overuse of music with moody overtures can be a bit, well, overused. But I'm a sucker (no pun intended) for a bad boy, and Damon Salvatore is truly a bad boy. He treats women like dirt, traumatizes his brother on an hourly basis, and thoroughly enjoys himself when he is in full vampire mode. But as with all bad boys, you know that deep down (very deep down with this one) lies a poor wounded little boy lost. *sighs in Scarlett O'Hara fashion*

Okay, it's a fantasy, I know. Real-life bad boys are rarely soft and cuddly on the inside, but if you were paying attention, you would know that the word 'fantasy' is the key here.

As I said before, The Vampire Diaries is not fantastic. I think I would have given up on it a long time ago if it wasn't for the character of Damon. In fact, I already did give up on it last year. I watched two or three episodes and decided that it wasn't my cup of tea at all. Then the crappiness that is British TV at the moment forced me into looking online for other viewing pleasures, and I decided to give the series another shot. If nothing else, I can hit the mute button and freeze frame all the Damon scenes (especially the shirtless ones), right?

And don't roll your eyes at me, because I know you do that too (or at least I hope you do....)

Ahh, I loves me my mojos. *sighs happily*

Next request?

*is drooling over Dean Winchester*

It's the last day of November, hence the last of my asterisked blog titles. It seems only fitting that I should blog about one of my mojos, because asteriskisms tend to come out in full force when we talk about our man/woman candy. There are a multitude of words that we can asterisk when we come across pictures of our mojos. *nods firmly*

For example, for the picture on the right, you could have:

*drools*

*melts*

*mind wanders*


But there are different levels of asteriskisms when you are dealing with mojos. The above is pretty standard stuff, but aside from the general hotness that is Jensen Ackles, the picture is nothing out of the ordinary. For the next level of asteriskisms, you need something a little more inspiring.

Now, it doesn't have to be anything crude, or even naked (although that idea does rather appeal), it just has to have that little something extra that inspires just a wee bit more drooling. The picture on the left may seem like another fairly ordinary picture, but don't be fooled. Our boy has that twinkle in his eyes that tells you right away that he is a Bad Boy, and you know how most ladies love a bad boy. On the asteriskism front, we are now:

*fans self*

*drools excessively*

*is thinking about taming strategies*




Level Three obviously needs the picture to be taken up a notch or two on the hotness front, so a little nudity is a must. Nothing over the top, just a little tease, of course. Sometimes leaving things covered is far more sexy than out and out nakedness. Here we have the traditional Chest Shot, guaranteed to invoke slightly more naughty asteriskisms. Now we have:

*licks lips*

*swoons*

*is thinking about full body massages*










Level five (no, I'm not deluded, I can count) is the Level of Smut, which I won't get in to here, but before Smutty Level Five, we get lovely Level Four. *winks* Level Four is, by the laws of inevitability, sexier than Level Three, so we need a little bit more than a Chest Shot. The example I'm using is the Butt Cleavage. *grins innocently* Gone are the playful *drools* and *licks lips*, we are now reduced to:

*pulls out whip*

*drags to dungeon*

*has multiple asteriskisms*

So yes, mojos definitely bring out a good variety of asteriskisms, wouldn't you say? And these aren't strictly limited to the ladies either. You men can whip out your asteriskisms as and when the fancy takes you. *coughs*  Make sure you insert a little innuendo too, and you'll be laughing all the way to the imaginary dungeon....

*is listing*

Another day, another scramble for a subject to blog about, consequently another new label. This one comes under the heading of '10 Things....'

Now, this will possibly join the other intended 'serial' labels such as 'Quick Thought' and 'Mojo Moments' (those labels that I had the vague plan of utilizing at least once a month, for occasions such as today when I can't think of a blog subject), but being a procrastinator also qualifies you for forgotten ideas and neglected projects, so I'm not overly worried.

So.....

10 Things.... Not To Say To A Woman.

1 - Are you pregnant?
Who says it: Normally innocent childlings, though sometimes the hubby is the culprit.
When is it said: Usually just after the person notices just how large your belly has become.
Usual reply:  (Spoken) No. (Thought) Do I ask you if you're pregnanat when your belly extends more than it should? (Note, this response is obviously not meant for the children).

2 - Well, now that you mention it, your bum does look rather big in that....
Who says it: Normally the hubby.
When it is said: After the (stupid) question 'Does my bum look big in this?'
Usual response: (Spoken) Oh, thanks for being so honest. (Thought) You asshole! You're supposed to lie!

3 - I forgot your birthday. sorry!
Who says it: The hubby. (Are you sensing a pattern here?)
When it is said: On your birthday. Obviously.
Usual response:  Stoic silence accompanied by a glacial smile (Thought) Unprintable.

4 - I thought you'd prefer something useful.
Who says it: Take a wild guess.
When it is said: Birthdays and Christmas, usually after you have opened a present that you were hoping to be something nice, but turns out to be a blender or some such thing.
Usual response: (Spoken) Er, thanks. (Thought) Next year I'm buying you a spanner, see how you like it.

5 -  Martha! (Or Jane, or Heather, or indeed any female name at all, except for yours).
Who says it: Hubby/boyfriend/partner.
When it is said: In the throes of passion.
Usual reply: Hitting the person over the head with the nearest blunt instrument. If nothing is to hand, pummeling with fists and persistent screeching will suffice.

6 - Hi love, what's for tea?
Who says it: Do I really need to type this bit anymore?
When it is said: To be honest, every day, but I particularly mean those days when you have had a radical haircut, or something similarly appearance-altering.
Usual response: (Spoken, in moment of pique) Fresh air sandwiches without the bread! (Thought) Are you blind?? I mean, SERIOUSLY??

7 - You missed a bit.
Who says it: Really....I think we're past this now.
When it is said: Usually just as you've finished cleaning the oven, or mopping the floors.
Usual response: (Spoken through gritted teeth) Thanks. (Thought) I don't bloody care if I've missed a bit! No more scrubbing for me, unless it includes wiping that smirk off your face!

8 - I didn't realise the time.
Who says it: Umm, let me think...
When is it said: Usually in the small hours of the morning.
Usual response: A grunt, accompanied by a glare and two raised eyebrows. (Thought) Inner grunt and raising of the eyebrows.

9 - I'm not drunk!
Who says it: Blah blah blah.
When it is said: When they are obviously drunk.
Usual response: Pointed glare, then rolling of the eyes.

10 - I'll phone you.
Who says it: Every single man on the planet (ha! got you there!)
When it is said: Every day, for the most part.
Usual response: Hysterical laughter.


And so endeth the list.

Note: I should tell you that not all of these have happened to me. Most of them, but not all. Just saying, like. In case I needed lawyers or something.

Mojo Moments

Those of you who know me well are aware that I have a small collection of mojos. Now, I'm a happily married woman in the real world, but in a fantasy world there are a number of fictional characters that I would love to do the mojo mambo with. I've decided to make 'Mojo Moments' a semi-regular topic for my blogs, and this first moment is dedicated to my first mojo.

Now, throughout the years there have been many potential mojos. You know the type - those super-gorgeous males who make you stop and stare, and maybe drool just a little bit. But a real mojo is special. A real mojo inspires you to download as many pictures that you can find and save them on your desktop. A real mojo causes you to drool so much that you often need a bucket and a mop to clean up afterwards.

My first real mojo took up residence in my pictures folder almost eight years ago. I had not long given birth to my daughter, so perhaps my hormones were a little to blame. Whether they were or not, my first mojo was the strongest of them all, and newer mojos have never quite lived up to the first one.

My first mojo was every woman's dream. Handsome (in that dirty way that we all secretly love), noble, trustworthy, and the owner of a huge sword. I'm talking about, of course, Aragorn, son of Arathorn, hero of the Lord of the Rings. OK, technically there were several heroes in these books/movies, but it was really Aragorn who saved the day.

Just what was it that elevated Aragorn from the normal "wow, he's hot!" list to the "OMG I have to have every picture on the planet of him and drool over them for all eternity" list? There's only one answer to that - who cares!! He's hot, he's dirty, and he kicks ass. Who knows why I landed on the 'Aragorn ship' instead of the 'Legolas ship' (although it's possible that the fantastically hot Viggo Mortensen helped the obsession just a bit). The wonderful thing about mojos is that there isn't any rhyme or reason to them. There could be hundreds of gorgeous people out there, and why one outdoes the other is a mystery. But when one of them does stand out from the rest, that's when you know you have a mojo.

Mojos are marvellous things, so when they arrive you should take the time to appreciate them. As I said at the start, I'm a happily married woman, but by having a collection of mojos I still get to play. Aragorn was the perfect mojo to start my collection with as my hubby had his own mojo to drool over too - namely Arwen (who happens to be Aragorn's little elf-wife). It was fate, obviously.

I've added to my mojo collection over the years, but I'll always have a soft spot for my first. Others have come and gone, several have lingered, but Aragorn remains my first choice. And honestly, when it comes to being noble, trustworthy, handsome, and having a big sword, there's no-one to beat him.

Everyone has at least one mojo, right?