Parenting Tips From A Parent

Parenting Tip #472- When daycare sends home a bag of clothes and a note that your child has pooped his pants, make sure said poop has actually been removed from said pants before washing and drying.

Parenting tip #157- having a stern and frank talk with your toddler at 2 am about what constitutes an acceptable wake up time will not go quite the way you hope.

Parenting Tip #734- You survived the weeklong vacation with the kid? Don’t get too cocky, champ. Brace yourself for the batshit crazy psycho they will turn into the morning after you return.

Parenting Tip #983- Did you know that a happy, calm child will suddenly fly into a frothy berserker rage over the simple selection of underpants? It’s true!

Parenting Tip #1063- If you thought your kid must have at least 2 weeks between colds, you’d be wrong, dummy.

Parenting Tip #3127- The child will regularly burst into the bathroom unannounced, yet will lock and barricade themselves in with every method available because monsters.

Parenting Tip #4181- Today, the child likes bananas. Tomorrow, they will not. Next day, they will. Repeat. Each time, preferring various degrees of ripeness. Plan accordingly.

Parenting Tip 7451- You may not subscribe to any religion, but you will offer up this fervent prayer: “please don’t let us all get sick at the same time.”

Parenting Tip 2162- Don’t enjoy constantly apologizing for being late? That’s ok, you’ll get used to it.

Parenting Tip #3798- You will drive home alone, windows open, without noticing your stereo is blasting the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles theme song. Do not panic.

Parenting Tip 9741- It might just be allergies…? (It’s not)

Parenting Tip 9784– make sure your spouse’s camera/phone is all charged up to capture all the Christmas memories while you’re huddled on the floor assembling those Lego sets.

Parenting Tip #2785- When your child says “I want to play Monster (Anything)” it really means “I would very much like to punch you in the groin”

Parenting Tip #2174- When asked by your departing spouse, “Want anything from the store?” it is ill advised, no matter how funny you’re trying to be, to respond “2 hours to myself.” Just trust me on this.

Parenting Tip #4751- Try not to interrupt the long, elaborate lie that your 4 year old is telling. Just enjoy the ride.

Parenting Tip #5891- You will, at some point, call your spouse in to marvel at the impressive enormity of your child’s poop. Only history may judge you.

Parenting Tip 8117- Onerous Ones. Terrible Twos. Troublesome Threes. Fucking Hell Fours.

 Parenting Tip 1023- Convincing the 4 yr old that he has shrunk due to lack of eating dinner is amusing for the parent. Not so much for the child.

Parenting Tip #967- The thing your child wants will not be the thing they want by the time you get the thing they said they wanted.

 Parenting Tip 2585- if you somehow infer to your child that a magical friendly werewolf has hidden a treasure somewhere for him to find, you better have a goddam treasure hunt ready.

Parenting Tip # 7100- That voice in your head at the end of the day that whispers “Go on, eat that whole pizza. And maybe finish off the birthday cake, too.” That voice just wants you to be happy, baby.

Parenting Tip 8767- Trust me, you will never build those goddam Legos fast enough.

Parenting Tip #5261- You will see much, much, much more taint than you might expect.

Parenting Tip 8211- When the kid skips a nap, you sure as shit better just let them win at Candyland.

Parenting Tipe #2782- Waking up at 4 am is a great time to carefully evaluate your career path/watch cartoons with your preternaturally awake child.

Parenting Tip 632- Sure, we like that you only leave us the butt ends of the bread in the bag. It’s the best part of the bread. So there.


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After 12 years at PDI/Dreamworks Animation, I’m suddenly unemployed as the entire northern California studio location was nuked from orbit. At first I was in shock, and felt a void in my life where my office and coworkers once were. Luckily, I was was accepted (with no interview!) at my new office, The Coffeeshop:

Day 3- I select a coffee shop in which to settle in and search for employment. Noticing the haphazardly strewn about books, empty cups, acrylic paintings of sailboats, and occasional band flyer, I am aghast at the obvious screen tangents and visual discordance. I take a sip of my latte and loudly announce, “YES. THIS WILL DO NICELY.”

Day 5- I have begun re-dressing the layout of the coffee shop. Pulling chairs and tables in an orderly (but not too sterile) pattern, I start to OOP some of the unapproved paintings and photos from the wall. The rest of the department seems disturbed/annoyed at my choices. This may reflect poorly on their performance reviews.

Day 6- For the third day in a row I must have missed the free tater tots and eggs available at the coffee shop counter. As I reached for a suspicious looking donut, the barista asked me for some sort of “money” in exchange. Confused, I went back to my makeshift desk, filed a P1 Jira on a napkin, and slid it under the restroom door.

Day 9- So excited for my kid’s first Take Your Kid to Work Day! We arrived bright and early at The Coffeeshop (what a cool name for a studio, right?) wearing our matching shirts. We checked in with the barista, who did a good job at pretending he didn’t know what was happening. There was no set activity schedule, so I told Emmett to just spend 30 minutes with each person and make sure to ask lots of questions! Except for Nancy there in the corner. Stay away from Nancy. Just trust me.

Day 10- While waiting for the production designer to arrive and review my shot (DJ! late as usual, you rascal), the door opened and in walked 3 men in formal business attire. “Suits,” I whispered to the team, “Look out, guys, corporate is on the floor.” “Illuminatiiiiiii”, hissed Stabby Frank, stuffing sugar packets into his beard. I watched closely as the suits took their cappuccinos and left. Maybe Stabby Frank was on to something.

Day 11- Hoping to do a bit of team building, I decided to bring in my own cd’s to play over the Coffeeshop speakers. Sensing some resistance from the barista/manager, I utilized my invaluable Change Management training in an effort to get her to change the music from what I’m guessing is a concept album about a junkyard on fire to Paul Simon’s “Graceland”. Unfortunately, I must have failed to inspire the active sponsorship for the change at a senior executive level within the organization, because I still do not hear the soothing sounds of Paul Simon.

Day 12- While searching through a job hunting website, I am intrigued by a listing for what appears to be a creative ad writing position for the nation of Micronesia. One of the fields on the application states: “In 150 characters or less, tell us something interesting about yourself! Say something that will catch our eye!” My response: “I am afraid of heights, snakes, and clowns. My ultimate fear is a clown throwing snakes at me while I’m on a ladder.” Your move, Micronesia.

Day 12 Supplemental- Hell is trying to find nice plain white printer paper at an understocked Kinkos.

Day 13- I think the barista/PM is eyeing me for a promotion! She seems pretty impressed that I pointed all those visitors to the stir sticks and 2%.

Day 14- I’m wondering if I made a mistake in putting “All offers must be submitted to me in form of an Edible Arrangement bouquet” on my job applications…

Day 17- Please don’t tell my bosses at The Coffeeshop that I’m attending an offsite job fair. I wouldn’t want things to get awkward.

Day 18-  My coworkers at The Coffeeshop are really enjoying my fun side project of writing a smash hit Silicon Valley country song, “Angel, Investor, Won’t You Invest A Little In My Heart?”

Day 19- Using up another one of my 10 allotted sick days from The Coffeeshop, I decided to go on a nice hike in the woods with my wife. Utilizing the muscles gained from sitting motionless at a desk for 12 years, I ascend the hill overlooking the Bay Area and marvel at the view. While retching up a nutritious LÄRABAR® (Peanut butter chocolate chip cookie flavor, perfect for a hike!), I pause and think, “What a wonderful, wonderful, wonderful thing it is to be outdoors.”

Day 20- After a couple weeks sitting at my desk here at The Coffeeshop, I’ve started developing some slight lower back and arm aches. Admittedly, building my cubicle out of a threadbare (what appears to have once been velveteen) couch, a wooden bench, and several stacks of 6 month old Real Estate News magazines may not have been the wisest choice. I decide to request a full ergonomic evaluation from the office manager/barista. I take her somewhat surly response as her way of saying that I’m free to take a standing desk option, preferably outside.

Day 21- I’m having a slightly more difficult time than usual submitting my timesheet to DW Passport…

Day 23 -A couple young people entered The Coffeeshop this morning, looking a bit nervous. Seeing as how I’ve been unable to locate the Outreach department so far, I took it upon myself to greet the new interns warmly, giving them a brief but informative tour of the first/only floor. I then handed them a stack of sequence bid reports and asked them to make me 18 copies. While I understand the jitters that come with the exciting first day of an internship, I was a little surprised by the way they quickly excused themselves and went back outside. “Kids these days, huh?”, I muttered to Stabby Frank. “The government!”, he replied. Stabby Frank always understands.

Day 24- Receiving some valuable interdepartmental cross training at The Carwash. My resume can now be updated to reflect such skills as “vacuuming up one million Goldfish crackers” and “Lego policeman recovery 101”.

Day 25- While I’m overjoyed at the news that so many of my friends are finding employment at other studios so quickly, I am a bit saddened to know that they won’t be joining me here at The Coffeeshop. Donuts are half off today! PS- don’t eat the donuts. They are not a bargain at any price, and the fitness program here is severely lacking.

Day 27- While conducting dailies in the screening room/lids and sugar area of the Coffeeshop, I witnessed Sketchbook Sandy and Scary Nancy looking at a picture of a striped dress and engaging in a lengthy discussion about the color they perceived. That was the last straw. I’m going have to let Sandy go. These distractions have become too much, and honestly, she’s the worst TD we have. (also, the dress is clearly white and gold.)

Day 31- I may need to notify HR to have a little chat with Steve. We have very clear guidelines about the difference between “at home pajamas” and “at The Coffeeshop pajamas.”

Day 32- Nobody at The Coffeeshop seems to want to take me up on my “Let’s have lunch out!” offer. I mean, come on. Staying here and eating the not-free scones is just The Man’s way of keeping us here working on… whatever we work on, right through lunchtime.

Day 35- I like to tell people I’m not unemployed, I’m just doing my best to remain carbon neutral.

Day 36- “I’ll show them. I’ll show them all! Someday they’ll be sorry that they let go of ol’ Newlin,” the pajamaed man muttered as he ate a freezer burned It’s-It and rewrote his resume for the 17th time.

Day 37- While looking through various job hunting websites, the position I seem most qualified for is “intern”. In a completely non-related question, does anyone have some sort of mystical body-swapping amulet/crystal skull or forbidden scientific device? Asking for a friend.

Day 38 – After attending the final farewell party at PDI and seeing the people I called my coworkers, friends, and mentors for what probably will be the last time, I wondered if the people at The Coffeeshop could ever truly replace them. “Why can’t you be more like Dave Murphy!?” I yelled at Bluetooth Earpiece Bob. “Yeah! Why can’t you be more like Dave Smurfy?” repeated Stabby Frank, sliding newspapers down his pants. You’re always there for me, Stabby Frank.

Day 39- I guess I’ve been here at The Coffeeshop long enough to take on the responsibility of mentoring a new employee. A fresh faced young man came in today with laptop in hand and that sort of hopeful gleam in his eye that I, myself, had way back about 8 weeks ago. I immediately decided that I would take him under my wing and show him the ropes. “Don’t sit there. Scary Nancy does not like when people sit in her chair,” I whispered “That’s enough for today, kid.”

Day 43- I had assumed that the jar full of money on the Coffeeshop counter that I kept contributing to was part of the 401K plan here. Apparently, according to the barista/manager and this nice police officer, I was mistaken.

Day 44- Took a trip to one of the fancier field offices to do some cross site training. While I do appreciate the superior coffee and selection of (not free!) snacks, I sort of miss the constant threat of catching bedbugs from the “vintage” sofas.

Day 80- Receiving a rejection email from a company you applied to months ago is like getting a birthday card from a girl who dumped you right before the prom. NOT THAT IT HAPPENED TO ME OR ANYTHING SHUT UP DON’T LOOK AT ME.

Day 127- Checked out a new Coffeeshop branch office to try and decide where I was going to spend my days from now on. Upon entering, I noted the stark, minimalist approach to decor this particular branch used as a design aesthetic. Stark white walls, pristine and hygienic tables, and, most oddly, every single customer/employee was basically an identical willowy young woman wearing thick black rimmed eyeglasses, typing silently away at identical Macbook laptops. Disheartened, I left and started walking back to my truck. It just didn’t feel like home. “Home is where your pants is, aaaack ptoooey,” a voice whispered softly. “Stabby Frank?” I wondered. It’s like I could almost hear him in my mind, in my heart, reassuring me. “Yesh?” he replied, rising up from behind the dumpster. Hurrying to my truck and quickly rolling up the windows before Stabby Frank lived up to his nickname, I smiled. Everything was going to be just fine.


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Busy Busy Business

I haven’t had any time to write a new story lately because I’ve been working on Social Medium (, and I also was hired to do write on an animated series pilot (

It’s been fun but crazy hectic, so for now I’m just putting down the title of the next story and promising to get back to it soon-




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Liebster Award Nomination??

I have been nominated for The Leibster Award by The Tattoo Tourist! Which is incredibly nice, since I don’t really know if I qualify as a blogger, but I guess there’s no award for “Lazy Chubby Man Who Occasionally Writes Short Stories For Kids”.

Check her out at-

Here’s how it went down- (Pasted from The Tattoo Tourist)

One Salty Kiss !!- Here is her post mentioning the award  and here are my answers and my list of nominees. I don’t really know if this is how you are supposed to do this -but it’s a lovely gesture and I wanted to share these others blogs – and my random answers – AND my list of ten blogs to check out. You can answer your ten questions in the comment section. It’s like that time I went to the desert island with my favorite bloggers – but better and bigger! Enjoy!

liebster awardThe Liebster Award

(here is what Karen wrote about it)

After receiving the award, I am to answer ten questions posed by (Karen) so new readers can get to know me better. I then get to “nominate” ten of my favorite blogs. These bloggers then answer my ten questions and pay it forward. This type of recognition is amazing. The criteria for the Liebster is that is goes to blogs with followers in the hundreds, not the hundreds of thousands.

Here is Karen’s list – worth a look!

Salt Water Diary

Bare Naked In Public

The Tattoo Tourist   (hey it’s me!)

Rob’s Surf Report

The Girl Next Door Is Black

The Surf Nomad

Life’s A Disco Ball

She And The Sea

That’s Another Story

Tales Of A Landlocked Surf Girl



So then she sent me a list of questions


1. What is the main purpose of your blog?

I work for one of the biggest animation studios in the US, but there’s a lot of times I don’t feel very creatively fulfilled. I tried getting some of my writing published FOR REALS, but that was pretty frustrating and too time consuming, I’m just not the kind of person that does well with the whole “submit/refjection” cycle. So taking my wife’s advice, I stopped worrying about that stuff and just started writing my own stories and putting them up on WordPress. It’s fun, and if I get 10 readers for a story, hey, that’s better than none.

2. What are your 3 favorite blogs? (Can be big blogs or small blogs)

THE TATTOO TOURISTShe’s funny, smart, and one of my first contacts in the blogging community.

beatrixisbloging – ok, I admit, I write this one too. It’s a side blog for the YouTube series I created and write on.

Compass&Camera – A great travel blog that makes me insanely jealous that I don’t travel a lot. Ok, ever.

3. What is the weirdest/most controversial blog post you have written – please link!

Huh.. I guess that would be The Cat Shat On That. For the nudity.

4. Are you also writing a book or screenplay? If so what it is about and will you try to publish it.

Yeah, I’m constantly writing as much as I can fit in, have a few more kids book ideas to work on, plus finishing up the Secret Lair story. I’m working on a horror comedy screenplay with some friends, and just got asked to write on a show that a friend is pitching to networks. The Social Medium series on Youtube is ongoing, and we’re going to try and do a Kickstarter soon to get a real budget.

5. Eggnog. Yes or no followed by…rum or brandy?

Yes, and both. I’m non denominational when it comes to boozes.

6. How do you feel about questionnaires?

I kinda like them actually. I’ve got the essay skillz to pay the billz.

7. Will you blog forever or is there a cut off point/endpoint on your blogging horizon. If so why would you stop entertaining me? How selfish!

I think I’ll keep going as long as I have time. I’m in the middle of a bit of a forced break, only because I volunteered to take on a few too many projects at once. Once I can finish those up, I’m back to writing my own stuff again. I have no idea if it’ll end, I think I can keep coming up with goofy stories that publishers hate for the rest of my life.

8.Have any of your blog readers sent you something in the mail and if so what. (And can I borrow it).

Hahha, no! Does that happen??

9. Boxers or briefs? (Commando is also an answer and feel free to skip some of these questions. I get it. believe me.)

A HA! The boxer brief hybrid!

10. Secret nickname or pet name – I won’t tell anyone I promise.

Most people just call me Newlin, because, and I swear this is true, almost every childhood bully that picked on me was named Brian.

Now go out there, nominate 10 blogs and spread some feel good blogging cheer today!


Drinkers with Writing Problems


Nerdy Book Club


The Tattoo Tourist


The Picture Book Review

Books, j’adore

Inspirational Geek


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Rejected Episodes of R.L. Stines “Goosebumps”

“The Girl Who Saw A Monster And Her Parents Absolutely Believed Her”

“We Did Not Investigate The Strange Sound In The Attic”

“Welcome To The Charming and Enjoyable Summer Camp, Part 1”

“The Vintage Radio That Played Existing AM Stations”

“The Neighbor Child Is Not A Ghost, Just An Introvert”

“Dad Is Certainly Not Conducting Potentially Hazardous Experiments In The Basement”

“Scary Movie Night Is Uneventful, Part 2”

“The Amusement Park That Was Well Lit and Properly Maintained”

“The New Teacher Is Inspiring”

“The Scarecrow Looks Normal And Is Protecting The Crops”

“Mom And Dad Checked This Babysitter’s References”

“Spookology Part 5: The Dentist Checkup Was OK, Even Though I Got A Cavity”

“Aunt Esther Is Simply Eccentric”

“The Videogame That Was Rated Appropriately For Children And Purchased On Amazon”

“Clowns Are Usually Pretty Nice Human People”

“The Day We Got Different Haircuts”

“Mom and Dad Attentively Supervise The Trip To The Halloween Mask Store”

“The Gypsies Who Scammed Grandma On A Roofing Job”

“Nobody Wants To Buy That Creepy Doll, Or Put It In Their Bedroom For That Matter”

“OK, We Admit It, We Actually Are Canadian”


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Eyeball Ghost and the Invisible Taco

Eyeball Ghost and the Invisible Taco


Brian Newlin

In a spooky old town, on a spooky old hill, in a spooky old house, there was a spooky old ghost named Eyeball Ghost.

One dark and gloomy day, Eyeball Ghost ventured out from his spooky old house to get a taco. Tacos were his favorite food in the whole wide world. He couldn’t wait to eat one.

“Hi, Eyeball Ghost!” a kid said as he floated down the street.

“BOOOO! Get out of my way! It’s time for tacos!” Eyeball Ghost replied. He didn’t have time to chit chat when the taco truck was waiting, full of yummy, tasty tacos.

Eyeball Ghost got to the taco truck and sighed. There was a sweet little old lady in front of him, also waiting for a taco. She smiled at Eyeball Ghost. Eyeball Ghost stuck his tongue out at her.

“Sorry, everyone, we only have two tacos left!” yelled the taco man inside the truck.

Eyeball Ghost looked at the last two tacos. He looked at the sweet little old lady.

“Look over there! Is that your kitty cat driving a firetruck?” exclaimed Eyeball Ghost.

“What? Captain Fluffybutt? Not again!” the sweet little old lady cried, looking around. Eyeball Ghost quickly jumped to the front of the line and took the last two tacos.

The sweet little old lady stared at Eyeball Ghost. Eyeball Ghost smiled at the sweet little old lady. Then, he swallowed both of the delicious tacos in one giant bite.

The sweet little old lady pointed at Eyeball Ghost and shook her sparkly, jangly bangles at him. She didn’t look so sweet now.

“Impatience and greed lead only to woe, now suffer the Curse of Invisible Taco!” the little old lady chanted.

“Ha ha ha, whatever.” laughed Eyeball Ghost, and he floated back home and went to sleep in his snuggly bed.

The next morning, Eyeball Ghost woke up, stretched his arms, yawned… and then he smelled something. Something yummy. Something familiar. Something taco-y.

“I smell a taco! Did I bring one home and forget about it?” wondered Eyeball Ghost. He got out of bed and looked around. He didn’t see a taco on his nightstand table.

“That’s weird. I know I can smell a delicious, yummy taco.” Eyeball Ghost muttered.

Eyeball Ghost looked under his bed. Nope, no taco there. He looked inside of his sock drawer. There wasn’t a taco in there either. Eyeball Ghost scratched his head and said, “Hmmm. It must be downstairs.”

Sniff. Sniff. SNIFF! Eyeball Ghost sniffed the air. “That taco must be in the kitchen, I’m sure of it.” He went into the kitchen, but didn’t see the taco on the counter. He opened the refrigerator, staring inside. He moved his grape sodas around. The taco wasn’t behind those either. Eyeball Ghost checked inside the spooky old cupboards and under the spooky old sink, but he couldn’t find a taco anywhere.

“This is really weird. I know there’s a taco around here somewhere.” grumbled Eyeball Ghost. He floated into the living room. The taco wasn’t on the table. It also wasn’t in between the sofa cushions, up the fireplace, or on the ceiling.

The delicious taco smell was getting stronger and stronger. “Why do you mock me, taco? Where are you? This really is the worst!” Eyeball Ghost wailed.

Eyeball Ghost thought for a moment. “Oh wait! Maybe the taco truck is outside!”

Eyeball Ghost opened up the door of his spooky old house. He saw a bunch of people standing on the street corner near the taco truck, laughing and eating. He floated over to them and couldn’t believe his eye.

People were munching and chomping… nothing! Eyeball Ghost could see them crunching, chewing, and swallowing, but he couldn’t see what they were eating. He peered into the taco truck, but he couldn’t see any yummy tacos in there either.

Then, Eyeball Ghost realized that all the tacos were… INVISIBLE.

“Ooooh. That’s what she meant,” sighed Eyeball Ghost. “I should have guessed.”

The sweet little old lady walked up to Eyeball Ghost and smiled. Eyeball Ghost tried to smile back, but he was too sad.

“Sorry, everyone, only two tacos left!” yelled the taco man. Eyeball Ghost looked. He was the first in line. “Hey buddy, are you going to order a taco or what?” asked the taco man.

Eyeball Ghost looked at the taco man. Then he looked at the sweet little old lady.

“Just one taco, please. This little old lady should get one too,” Eyeball Ghost said. “Sorry about yesterday. Everyone should share yummy tacos.”

The sweet little old lady smiled and said, “That’s very nice of you, Eyeball Ghost. Thank you.”

POOF! Suddenly, the tacos were no longer invisible. People were eating and smiling and sharing with each other. Eyeball Ghost finally understood the true meaning of tacos.

“Hah ha ha, whatever.” laughed the sweet little old lady, and they both swallowed their delicious tacos in one giant bite.



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Bed Boat

The Bed Boat


Brian Newlin

Bed boat! Bed boat! Let’s all make a bed boat!

Grab your blanket, a bunch of pillows, and jump onto the bed or couch. It’s time to make a bed boat!

You can make a bed boat by yourself or with your family. Don’t forget your pets! All aboard the bed boat!

Where will the bed boat take you? Down the mighty Mississippi River? Across the desert to a giant’s castle? Maybe to the moon? The bed boat can go anywhere!

Did you bring some snacks to eat in the bed boat? Pretzels, an apple, crackers, or carrots are great snacks on a bed boat! Soup is not a good idea.

You can dress up as whatever you like on the bed boat! A pirate, an astronaut, or 1972 Stanley Cup winner, hockey player Bobby Orr! Everyone can have fun on the bed boat!

Who is steering the bed boat? Not me! Quick! Grab the wheel! Don’t crash into that rock! Don’t fall over the waterfall! Look out for that dinosaur!

The bed boat is going through a tunnel. Quick, get under the covers! Did you remember to bring your flashlight? OK, good. Let’s tell a spooky story while the bed boat is in the cave.

“Once Upon a Time, there was a bed boat, and it was in a deep, dark cave, and then… a ghost grabbed your foot and said Boo!”

AAAAHH! Scary! Everyone out from under the covers! Whew! It sure does get warm in the bed boat!

Is that the telephone ringing? Is there someone knocking at the door? Sorry, they’ll have to wait, nobody can get off the bed boat! Unless you have to use the bathroom. Then, go ahead, the bed boat will wait here for you.

Oh no! The tv remote control is just out of reach? And your favourite show is on? Too bad! The alligators might get you if you step off of the bed boat!

It’s awfully comfy, all snuggled deep in the blankets and pillows, right? You might want to close your eyes and relax, just for a minute, here in the bed boat. That’s all right, go ahead.

The bed boat is soft and safe and warm. The bed boat is just floating away, down the river, across the desert, and past the moon.

We can all have fun in the bed boat.

We can all take a little nap in the bed boat.

See you again soon, bed boat.


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All the sorts of writings. All of them.

Took a bit of a break from writing stories, just a little bit, because something kinda weird and unexpected happened- I wrote a weird tv show idea, that somebody actually read and contacted me with the suggestion that we actually make it. After an insanely brief and intense period of writing and producing, Tara Jayn (actress/producer/director) has posted the first couple of mini blog style episodes! She is literally doing all the work, I’m living the dream of just writing and co-writing. Please enjoy SOCIAL MEDIUM-

With any luck, we’ll be able to get funding for the full episodes later, but for now it’s been a blast just making something.


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Henry’s Hobbies

First rough draft. This one needs some polishing, plus it really is intended as a picture book, so I’ll have to figure out illustrations sometime.

Henry’s Hobbies


Brian Newlin

Henry was bored. Bored, bored, bored. His mother said, “Henry! Get a hobby!”

Henry thought that was a great idea. But what kind of hobby?

First, Henry tried collecting stamps. The mailman didn’t think that was a good choice.

Henry learned to play the trombone. The neighbors weren’t so happy.

Knitting was next. At least it kept the house warm.

Henry baked 50 pies. The cats really liked that one.

Butterfly collecting didn’t go too well. Henry didn’t like keeping them in cages.

Henry got pretty good at oil painting. Grandma was a great model.

Building ships in bottles was relaxing, but it started to get out of hand.

Henry’s tomatoes won all sorts of prizes. Too bad Henry thought tomatoes were yuck-a-rooni.


Henry’s dad sure was surprised when Henry invited the hockey team to the house after the big game.

Everyone in the neighborhood still talks about Henry’s magic show.

Astronomy didn’t work out. Henry needed his sleep.


The metal detecting helped pay for the sailing lessons.

Henry’s turn as Hamlet was very well received by the critics.

Golf was a mistake.

Chainsaw sculpting.

Henry earned his black belt in record time.

Mom and dad said no way to skydiving, at least for a few years.

Writing was easy. Henry’s first picture book was a  top seller.

Henry’s hobby, he decided, was collecting hobbies. Henry’s mom wished that his next hobby would be to clean his room.


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Eyeball Ghost and the Midnight Skeletons



Brian Newlin

(inspired by a true story, according to a 4 year old)


In a spooky old town, on a spooky old hill, in a spooky old house, there was a spooky old ghost named Eyeball Ghost.


Eyeball Ghost did not like anyone in his house. Every night, he looked out of the window and said, “Nobody better come into my house, or I will scare them away with my ghost powers. Mwaa haa haa!”

One day, some kids from the spooky old town climbed up the spooky old hill, opened the door to the spooky old house, and started to go up the stairs to the spooky old tower.

“We’re not scared! There’s no such things as ghosts,” the kids said, shining their flashlights around.


“Oh no?” replied Eyeball Ghost, and he floated in front of them and shouted “BOOO!”

“Oh no! There is such things as ghosts! Run!” screamed the kids.

The kids ran down the stairs, out of the house, down the hill, and all the way back into town.

“Mwaa haa haa,” Eyeball Ghost laughed “That will teach those kids to come into my house.”


Eyeball Ghost got into his bed, pulled the snuggly covers up around him, and started to fall asleep.


The spooky old clock downstairs struck twelve. Then, Eyeball Ghost heard another noise. A very small, very faint noise. A knocking noise at the door.

knock knock.

“What was that?” Eyeball Ghost said.

Knock Knock.

“Who’s there?” asked Eyeball Ghost.


Eyeball Ghost went to the door. “It better not be those kids again, or I will be very, very upset!” Eyeball Ghost said, and opened the door.


It was not the kids knocking on the door. It was a bunch of skeletons, standing on the porch.

“Who are you?” demanded Eyeball Ghost, looking at them with his eyeball.

“We are the Midnight Skeletons, and we are coming inside.” the skeletons said, and they marched right through Eyeball Ghost and into the house.

Eyeball Ghost was confused and angry. “What’s going on? Why are you in my house?” he asked.

The Midnight Skeletons did not answer. A couple of them went into the kitchen and started making popcorn and getting grape sodas out of the refrigerator.

“BOOOO! Go away!” Eyeball Ghost shouted. He did not like anyone in his house, especially Midnight Skeletons.

Another skeleton turned on the radio. He found a funky disco song and all the skeletons started to dance.


“No no no! BOOO!! BOOO!! Get out of my house!” Eyeball Ghost yelled in his spookiest voice, but nobody listened.

Three of the Midnight Skeletons danced up the stairs into the tower. Eyeball Ghost followed. He was very, very upset.


The skeletons started jumping up and down on Eyeball Ghost’s cozy bed.

“My cozy bed! Booo! BOOO!! Get off my cozy bed!” Eyeball Ghost cried.


After a while, skeletons got bored jumping on the cozy bed and went back downstairs. All the Midnight Skeletons were dropping popcorn crumbs and grape soda all over Eyeball Ghost’s nice spooky floor.


“This is the worst. Really, the worst,” Eyeball Ghost wailed. He felt pretty sad.

Then, Eyeball Ghost and the Midnight Skeletons heard a noise. A very small, very faint noise. A knocking noise at the door.

knock knock.

“What was that?” Eyeball Ghost asked.

Knock Knock.

“Who’s there?” asked the Midnight Skeletons.



Eyeball Ghost opened the door, and there, on the porch, stood the kids from town.

“It’s just a bunch of kids,” Eyeball Ghost said.

“We’re not scared! There’s no such things as kids,” said the Midnight Skeletons.

“Oh no?” asked Eyeball Ghost, and he let the kids into the house.

“What’s all the racket in here? It’s too loud and we can’t sleep!” the kids yelled.

“Oh no! There is such things as kids! Run!” screamed the Midnight Skeletons.


The Midnight Skeletons ran out of the house, down the hill, and all the way back to wherever they came from.

Eyeball Ghost looked at the kids. The kids looked at Eyeball Ghost.

“Thanks, kids. Want some popcorn?” asked Eyeball Ghost.

“Not tonight, Eyeball Ghost, we better get back home. Maybe tomorrow?” the kids said, and went back home to bed.


From then on, Eyeball Ghost was happy when friends came from the spooky old town, up the spooky old hill, and into the spooky old house to visit.

Well, everyone except the Midnight Skeletons.


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