This post has nothing to do with basmati rice or the Maldive Islands.
Or cave dwellers.
Let me explain. For those of you who do not belong to word press, the site has a special section of honor for outstanding posts. Seeing as how there are about one half million writers, competition to join the exclusive ‘Freshly Pressed’ club is intensely strong.
Now if you peruse the Freshly Pressed site, as I dooooo, you notice some trends…
1. Esoteric, art house type story titles rule the day…the title I chose for this post is a good example.
2. Sex often works…one girl even wrote about ‘fisting’ and lotion, (dear God, fisting) and she was admitted to the club.
3. Suffering through multiple tragedies at once, for example loss of a loved one , an IRS audit, and an ingrown ass boil often works out to your benefit.
Now, as for my title, I have never eaten Basmati rice, and I have never been to the Maldive Islands (and have no clue where they are), but I am hoping, OH HOW I AM HOPING, that this title catches the attention of a Freshly Pressed judge.
Oh, did I say Freshly Pressed judge?
In case you were wondering, this is exactly what they look like…
1. The tight assed head librarian at your local library
2. Your tenth grade guidance counselor (who predicted your life as a loser)
3. The lady at the deli counter of your grocery store who skips over YOUR number on purpose just to piss you the f___ off
So gang, keep your eyes on my prize, I think this post might get me into the exclusive Freshly Pressed club.
Oh, and by the way, I COULD make up a cave dweller art story with half my brain tied behind my back.
Just thought you should know.