Taking Over the World One Expose at a Time
Wednesday, November 11th, 2009
*note* I just wanted to say before the blog gets started to remind everyone of Veterans Day today. In remembrance of our fallen soldiers and those who have put their lives on the line to keep our freedoms and defend us, I want to thank you for everything you do and continue to do. There is no amount of thanks in the world that could express my appreciation of you. *end of note*
***
*popping head out over the top of the basket in the Crow’s Nest* Ahoy there! I have a special guest today. Regulars of the blog know her after her expose of Nika Riley is Booty magazine but today she is back and ready to try her hand at something new. Raise your cups of rum to the Grand Pixy Sita and welcome her aboard.
*giving the look to Hells* That does not mean flicking her overboard. Or you Chance. Just a few words of advice while I’m gone today- Don’t shake the pixy! *shudder* The thought of Sita dust everywhere is enough to keep me away from the deck for days.
Now, without further ado, I give you the GPS.
::inserts tape into magical recording device for notes for upcoming story for booty magazine, Writers in the Rough: Before They Were Big::
It takes great strength of spirit, cunning, an exuberant sense of adventure and persistence to be the lead reporter for Booty Magazine. Aw, who am I kidding? I just takes a great appreciation of the female body to be the lead reporter for Booty. So what, you may ask, is this reporter doing, lurking around in the woods near dusk? I’ll tell you what. I’m stalking the up and coming new writer, Alessandra Lexi. And just who is this new writer? Well… I’m not really sure to be honest. I received some interesting pictures and a few pages of writing from a source and decided, I just had to investigate. So prepare yourselves for another Grand Pixy Sita exposé.
After my last adventure with Sin, I needed something new and invigorating to write about. And after interviewing Nika Riley I found I liked working with authors. Their minds are sometimes dark and twisty and they are all interesting. Especially that Hellion. Man, was she a bit scary. I thought she was going to clip my wings. And that would have been bad. Speaking of which, back to normal pixy size for spying.
So I’m here at a secluded lake, where my source assures me, I’ll find this new author in her element. The lake is cold and covered in snow, no one around for miles. Small cabin in the woods, right on the lake. Prime spot for a nobody if you ask me. I wonder how she could afford such a place. I can’t seem to find a good vantage point for my spying. Oh. Wait. There. There is a small window looking into the main room. Wow. Nice digs. Large open room, floor to ceiling windows out looking the lake. Leather couch. Fire place. Nice kitchen.
I wonder if there is any meat and chocolate in there. Maybe I can pry open the window and sneak in. Ouch. Damn windows. It’s really nice in here. Oh shit. Here she comes. I hate having to duck into house plants. They are always so dusty! OH…. MY…. GOD… what is she wearing? You’re never going to believe this! This woman, out in the middle of no where, is wearing a humungous, frumpy, poop brown, grumpy old man sweater. And if that wasn’t bad enough, she has on a pair of old flannel boxers and Ugg boots. Is she freaking insane? With a set up like this she should have flocks of hot young men feeding her s’mores or something.
No wonder she hasn’t made it big. She is not living the life style at all. Where is Sin when I need her? This woman is clearly in need of a life intervention. I bet she hasn’t gotten laid in years! I need some rum. Where is my damn flask? This is just too much people, too much I tell you.
Wait, she’s leaving the living room and heading into the back. And oh joy! She left her laptop out in plain view. Let’s get a peak at what the author is writing.
::sounds of pixy wing flutter, soft landing, small squishy, squeaky steps on the leather sofa. Soft chuckle. Chortle. Laughter, the sound of something rolling around on the couch. Hysterical laughter. Loud thump. No sound::
::insert new tape in back up magical recording device, soft whispers::
Readers, beware. While Ms. Lexi does indeed look to be a promising writer if she can finish her novel, you’re never going to believe the dirt I’ve found on her. Perhaps I should consider switching and writing for the Mid Atlantic Inquirer. Ms. Lexi is writing a soft core fan fic. But not just any fan fic, she is writing a fan fic for Stargate! Stargate! Thank god she isn’t on the RWR. I think they would skin her alive and make her walk the plank. No honest to Goddess pirate would write this kind of crap.
“Oh Daniel, you’re sharp mind titillates me in ways you can’t imagine. I want you to talk ancient to me. I need you…”
::more snickers::
I won’t bore you with the lame sex details. They aren’t even worth mentioning.
::loud thump, soft moaning::
Well well, what do we have? If I can sneak down the hall way, maybe I can get a peek at the writer in something else scandalous. Dark hall. Small rooms, oh wait. There. There’s a soft light coming from that room. If I can peak in the door…
::louder moans::
What the hell is she doing in there?
::soft door creak. Louder moaning, sounds of sheets rustling, slight flitter of pixy wings. Louder moans. Soft snicker and very fluttered wings. Door creak. Sniggering. Fast fluttering. Rush of wind and leaves. Hysterical laughing::
Ok readers, this is the biggest scandal since we found out about the breaking Stargate fan fic. It really is a wonder this woman is still alive. If I had to live her life I’d walk off the plank myself. This woman, I’m even sure I can call her that. This woman was …. Are you ready for it….. she was humping her blanket. I could just see the images of Michael Shanks in her head as she was riding those blankets like nothing else mattered. And what makes it worse, she was still in the damn old man sweater. How can a self respecting woman do that to herself in an OLD MAN SWEATER? I can’t wait to get the opportunity to actually interview this woman. What a mess. I tell you, writers are funny people. No wonder Nika stays in seclusion. I hope she doesn’t hump blankets in old man sweaters.
::stops tape and magically transports to small lantern home on the RWR in Sin’s quarters::
“Sin!! Sin!! Open up! Wench, get in here and open up!”
“What the hell are you yammering about in there Sita?”
“Let me out. I have to tell you about what happened.”
“What kind of trouble did you get into now? I’m not bailing you out or buying your soul back. No amount of rum is worth the trouble you get me into.”
“No trouble. I swear! Just the best scoop I’ve ever gotten in my life.”
“Scoop for what? You’re not still trying to submit stories to Booty magazine are you? You know they only let you write because they wanted the exclusive with Nika and she would only let you do it. They don’t want your stories. You’re too wild for them.”
“They will want this scoop. I’ve got a whole new series of stories. It’s going to be all Steve Irwin up close and personals and about writers in their elements. My first study was Alessandra Lexi. I don’t know if you’ve heard of her, but you won’t forget her when I’m done playing you this tape…”
::rewinds, pushes play…::
So what have you today, pirates and wenches! What kind of wild expose could you see written about you? Ever wonder what people would think about your alter ego as a writer? (Though, that’s a question for us who stay in seclusion of our writing.) How do you envision your first interview to happen?

Clearly titles aren’t my talent, but let’s face it, Goats on a Boat was taken, and there’s no topping that.