So you know what happens when you sell your book that you put your heart and soul into and then announce said sale on your blog?

You start getting really weird emails.

Okay, to be fair, I get weird emails a lot. At last count I get about seven hundred emails a day and for some reason when you have a blog and say things like “douchenozzle” a lot, well, people just think you are fair game. But lately, the emails have taken on a whole new tone.

You're sitting at home with your family.  You've just enjoyed a home-cooked meal, and are relaxing to a little evening television.  Suddenly the door-bell rings and you saunter over to the front door.  You open it to find a stranger selling their wares.  Oddly enough, you're intensely interested in what they're selling, and find the prices to be more than fair.  You purchase on the spot!!

Yeah right!!  Unless it is a door-to-door prostitute, this scenario will never happen.  In fact, the exact opposite is generally true.

You sigh out loud when you see the salesperson.  You try to interrupt their "presentation" before they get rolling.  You continually get harassed by their 3rd and 4th attempt after you refuse.  At least you can hang up on phone solicitors.  The ones that show up at your door are a tougher lot to shoo away.

For years I've never really listened to a single pitch by a salesperson.  They don't get much more than 30 seconds at the door before I shoo them away.

But this all changed one summer afternoon.

Ever order a pizza and wish you had another? 

Ever wanted to get that Chinese there in less than 15-20 minutes? 

Ever craved that New York Cheesecake from Roxio's on 34th street but you live in Seattle?

Then the HP FoodJet 2000 is for you!

The beginning of Chapter 2 in Suzy Soro's unreleased book.

And now we continue with our next installment of Formerly Fun's BlogOpera.

When we last left off, the barista and our heroine were sequestered in her bedroom. 

She undressed him, teasing him, and they made love. 

She moved to roll off him and he pulled her back ...

- F. Lawrence Caslin

This is the time of the year when small-town newspapers are highlighted by feel-good vegetable headlines.  You know the ones I'm referring to, right?  
    
Some old farmer, beaming with pride, gets his picture plastered on the front page.  He's propped against the largest pumpkin anyone in these parts has seen for some time and he's wearing a priceless smile, like it's his kid and the boy won first place in the county spelling bee.  
    
Usually, there's an accompanying story that explains how long the old man's been farming and what his secret is to growing his giganti-vegetables.  It could be a special compost or a homemade fertilizer or maybe he talks to his plants all summer long.
    
The next week, the big headline could be a second grade teacher with okra the size of your fist.  Or a construction worker with a five pound tomato from a volunteer plant that grew up in the middle of his wife's marigold bed.