Ideas For A Novel

Since I've found myself wallowing in large, sticky pools of free time these days, I thought... hey... why the fuck shouldn't I just sit my fat ass down and write a goddamned novel? I like writing, I could probably keep a story going for 300 pages or so, and I've always liked the idea of me being an real, genuine author... someone who can hold his head up high as a titan of the literary world and whose drinking problem is dismissed as merely a side effect of being so fucking brilliant and handsome. That sort of lifestyle would sure as shit beat being just a displaced blogger in Arlington, TX... a town that's barely heard of reading, much less of novels, and where you have to break into funeral homes to steal jars of coffin polish because regular booze doesn't get you drunk enough to get the creative juices flowing anymore...

...coffin polish tastes just awful...

Anyway, so here are the ideas I've got so far. Any of these could conceivably top the list of best sellers, particularly if we put a hot chick on the cover wearing nothing but a discreet layer of peach preserves. Or, for those who don't have much of a sweet tooth, guacamole. Oh, and I guess we should probably cater to the female market too... so... maybe a guy is also there with his dong in a jar of Duncan Hines frosting. Or a bowl of guacamole. Look, I'm getting ahead of myself... here now, I present to you fine folk:

My Novel Ideas

NOTE: As always, if any of you steal these ideas and make a million billion dollars, I will find out where you live and sneak in dressed as a maid and when you're asleep I will sneak into your bedroom and kill you so hard in your face that I won't be able to get the deposit back on my rental maid uniform. BECAUSE IT WILL BE COVERED IN YOUR BLOOD AND ALSO SOME SPILLED COFFIN POLISH!!! So don't steal, motherfucker. I cut you. I cut you for real.

-Dinosaurs get cloned and go on a rampage in a theme park. I know what you're thinking... it's exactly the same plot as The Phantom of the Opera. That's where you're wrong. These dinosaurs don't sing. They do dance, however, which is going to be hard to convey on the page. Hm... maybe we'll had illustrations. Filthy, filthy illustrations.

-A small-town Southern lawyer defends a monkey because the monkey is accused of having evolution, even though that's not how it works. The monkey and the lawyer hate each other at first, but eventually become best friends. They fight crime. I envision a great fight scene where everyone slips on banana peels and the monkey laughs his ass off. In the movie version, Kurt Russell could play either the lawyer or the monkey. Also, Jack Black in a suit made of banana peels... that's our poster right there.

-A young girl moves to a spooky town where there are a lot of vampires. She falls in love with the most romantic vampire and he bites her and she thinks she's becoming a vampire and they're going to live happily ever after. But it turns out, the guy wasn't really a vampire... just a jerkwad with a biting fetish. And now the girl has Hepatitis. Everyone learns a lesson about how vampires don't exist. But they DO EXIST... in our hearts. The novel ends with all the other major characters getting Hepatitis.

-Grizzled cop Steak McManpants is two days away from retirement... but he's got to track down a vicious serial killer before he (the serial killer) retires him (Steak McManpants) for good (that means he serial kills him). That's just the first 30 pages or so... Steak McManpants dramatically arrests the serial killer for non-payment of child support and then retires to a condo in Ft. Lauderdale. The remaining 260 pages are mostly about shuffleboard and prostate exams.

-A magical boy wizard does some shit for a while, then bitches about his parents being dead. But they're NOT dead! They're vampires dinosaurs being sued by grizzled cop with Hepatitis that he caught from a monkey while singing and dancing and banana peels and omigod you guys have got to try this coffin polish it makes you feel like a two ton brick of white hot fuck steely-eyed creativity on windowpane acid where all ideas are both knowable and unknowable and the world truly makes sense for one microsecond that lasts longer than a whole baseball season and...

NOTE: C-dog is in the corner vomiting into a decorative urn that we believe he also stole from a funeral home. Please just let him know in the comments which idea you like best and he'll get on writing it just as soon as he stops freaking out.

NOTE: He's pooping in the urn now. And crying. What a sad scene.