The Island of Lost Projects

This is where I live. The Island of Lost Projects. It’s a lot like Fantasy Island except there are no fantasies, jiggley eighties babes or Ricardo Montalban. But still here I am.

Why do I live in the Island of Lost Projects? Because that’s what I do. I start projects and then lose them. Right now I have either lost, forgotten about, abandoned or am too lazy to complete:

The Halves and Half Knots—My Political Blog

Part of this Nutritious Breakfast—My Creative Blog

Jesus Saves—My collection of strange, and ill-advised, Church direct mailings.

Audio Biograpy—My life in song. I’ll get back to that though.

The Truth—Where I mine public domain photos and write stories about them. If you haven’t seen what I’ve done thus far, click to your left.

Earth, Inc.—A science fiction novel about something . . . or other. Actually, I think Earth, Inc. was the title of someone else’s novel and I can’t remember what the hell I was calling mine.

What’s He Building in There—Another novel about a guy who builds stuff. It had subtext. Or maybe it was supertext. Maybe that’s why I never wrote it.

Giant Cyborg—This one never got off the ground. The government found out, sent some mind-control robots and now I love the human race. I promise not to destroy you in a firey ball of robotic death. All my evil tendencies have been abated and now I don’t hate the human race except for three specific male tennis players, Bert Convey and Kip Winger. I used to hate Murray Head, but I got over that. He can spend all the time in Bangkok that he wants.

Pizza Kabobs—This was going to make me rich. A grillable pizza on a stick. You put on pieces of crust, meat, veggies and cheese cubes. Then you put it all on the grill. I was on the verge of a breakthrough in cheese technology that would allow me to have a grillable cheese that melted on the inside but remained solid on the outside. That way it didn’t fall through the grill slats. But Wisconsin found out and sent out goons to silence me. Stupid goons. But, it’s okay. Really. My sauce globules never really worked anyway.

Super Bugs—This was just misguided. Who wanted a bullet-proof bug in the first place? Who shoots bugs?

Gangsta Cruises—Specialty cruises for Gangstas. Never got off the ground. I’m not sure why.

It’s Just Happy Hour!!—It was a dating service for business men who didn’t have time for It’s Just Lunch! Had to shut it down when a bad case of The Clap was running among my clients and someone named Tammy suddenly started driving a Lexus. I’m not sure why that happened.

Biblical Transformers—Saul changed into Paul. That’s all I had. No one cared.

Fronteralls—It was designed for women to abate the . . . uh . . . frontal wedgie. This became a problem when Daisy Dukes or “Hoochie Cutters” became popular. It is a problem that has resurfaced. I’ve noticed that both epidemics have coincided with an upswell of Celine Dion’s career. I’m not saying that the two are related. Then again, I’m not saying they aren’t.

Well, it’s time to go in for my shock treatments now.

Say Something! Gary's Lost It! Someone Grab The Thorizine!