I’d be full of shit if I said I didn’t love comments like this now buy my book America

By Ebony Arrington-McMillan on January 2, 2014

Format: Kindle Edition

I LOVED this book!!! I discovered the book when it was donated to project that I run. This is the most REAL book that I have ever read. Taylor Oceans has lived one hell of a crazy life and has an amazing way of retelling it to his readers. This book had me on the floor in hysterical tears. It also left me with some very valuable life lessons. I would absolutely recommend this book to anyone, especially young people!!! I want to also send a huge THANK YOU for sharing your story with the world to Taylor Oceans.

Thank you Ebony for the wonderful comment.  After two years of writing, doubting, listening to the doubters, and betting everything financially on myself, the long shot. I will admit to a few moments of weakness.  But I like to say bash your head against the wall till it comes down or something useful comes out of your head.  I think I just might have pulled it off.  Bet on yourself America who the hell else will.  And if you feel like trying something new try me and my tales Playing Your Hand Right: Showing America How to Live for a good laugh and life lesson.  Published only three months ago and available on Amazon.com.  Be the first of your friends to discover my tales. Thanks for reading.

Long Live the Writers

Oceans

P.S.  The organization was Books for troops (link below) send them your old books to be forwarded to our troops.  Support our troops, Hate the Government.

https://www.facebook.com/BooksForTroops2013

P.S.S. or something? If your read the post about my date stuck on the side of the road and no one helped she finally made it down for new years in her moms car because hers is fucked.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lQlIhraqL7o and it was really good

Buy My Book People are loving this shit

Alright America 30 books sold and not a bad review yet and 4.8 rating on Amazon.  Now there are almost 10,000 of you out there so go to Amazon.com and buy my book  Playing Your Hand Right: Showing America How To Live.  My book will make you laugh, like a son of a bitch yet it does have a serious theme of life, love and the pursuit of happiness America style.  My New years resolution is to sell 1,000 copies next year at least.  That would mean you guys would help me raise 1,000 dollars to help me advertise.  I have bought 50 books so far and I’m sending them out to newspapers, publishers, book stores, agents, radio and T.V. Stations.  And at this point I have bought more books then you America.  I’m all alone on this America, but if you read my writing you know that only makes me go harder.  I will get on the New York times best seller list just a matter of when and I need your help to do it America.  You need to click on the link below and buy the digital copy of my book for only 3 bucks or the paper back for 10 bucks.  When you discover what a gem it is you need to get one friend to buy a copy.  1,000 bucks means 125 copies of my book get mailed to the right people’s desks.  Help me play my hand right America and years from now when someone says “Have you ever heard of Taylor Oceans?”  You get to reply, “Oceans, shit I was one of his original disciples.”  Here is a comment I received on my FB page from a very nice woman who runs books for troops.  I sent a few copies of my book to our boys she read it and this is what she said.

Ok..I HAVE to give a huge shout-out to an author and friend who YOU should check out.Taylor Oceans!!! YOU HAVE TO READ HIS BOOK, Playing Your Right Hand…This book has me laughing so hard!!! And what I LOVE about it is that it is REAL…Check it out for yourself!!!

 So take a chance on me America.  I know I’m a long shot, but sometimes long shots pay off big.  Link to my book on Amazon below.

http://www.amazon.com/Playing-Your-Hand-Right-Showing/dp/1484829794/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1385767769&sr=8-1&keywords=playing+your+hand+right

Also Check out books for troops.  Send our boys some good reads they earned it!  Link below to the face book page.

https://www.facebook.com/groups/booksfortroops/

P.S.  Don’t forget bonus chapters only in the book.  Your only getting my rough drafts, free writes, and half the story on the blog. 

         

Boy Vs Nature

BOY VS NATURE
When I was let’s say 13, my mother and I were walking on the beach, where I would later wreck a car on the cliffs above. We were walking and enjoying the sand, the sounds, and shooting the shit when I lock eyes on a 250-pound piece of pole: drift wood. It looked like someone had cut three feet off a big telephone pole and thrown it in the water. Stupid right? Well to the craziest, most imaginative boy in the world, this wasn’t a huge pain in the ass, getting it up the hill, and a mile or two down the road to the house. It was the greatest chopping block in the world. It was the perfect height, width, circumference, yet it was white because it was driftwood. I thought I had found gold and damn the cost I will get this 250-pound pain in the ass home, which already had a perfectly good chopping block.
The quest begins. Now, cliffs flank the beach we are on and the only way up it was a path through the woods that went up a thirty to forty-foot hill. So mom and I turn back and continue to talk about what ever the hell and while we are walking back, I’m kicking and pushing the log along the beach. When I was 13, or really all my life, I have been a small dude. At the time, I probably weighed 80 pounds soaking wet. So this log is wearing me out after rolling it over five hundred yards of sandy beach.
We enter the path through the woods. In my hometown, we have poison ivy and briers, not woods. Remember the poor guy in Saw surrounded by barbed wire. Yeah, it brought back memories but I had to push a log through my self-inflicted hell. So after a hundred feet of natural acupuncture, I reached the hill. I knew this would be the culmination of my quest. I had heard the story of Sisyphus and knew he spent eternity pushing a boulder up a hill over and over again and I would not repeat history. I was better than the log and smarter than Sisyphus.
I sink my flip-flops (poor choice of foot wear) into the dirt, and put my shoulder to the log. I could put my shoulder to the log, which was probably two feet off the ground because I was three feet tall at the time. You know just before you get your growth spurt? Well, imagine it never hit.
So runt, log, hill. This is not a perfect geometrical 45-degree angle hill; the beginning is easier and as you get to the top it gets steeper and steeper. The first third of the hill I get past pretty easily. When I get to the middle, I rest for the big push to the top and my inevitable victory over nature. This path is dirt and a little damp underfoot so my flip-flops are not working well. I finish my rest, give myself the you’re better than the log, gravity, hill, poor foot wear, and genetics pep talk and push. I’m 75% of the way there and slipping my ass off. This log is three times my body weight and it’s winning. Have a midget try to push a football Coliseum. Looked the same but on a hill and in flops. I say, “Fuck” and roll the log back down the path.
I pace, swear, pace, swear, and the whole time my mother is watching, coaching, and trying to control her laughter as her tiny part-Serb son is bested by a log. I’m sure she was torn between feeling pride for my tenacity, pity for being small, and laughing her ass off at the sight of her tiny son fighting nature.
I regain my vigor; remind myself I’m a Serb, English, Scottish, Irish mutt. I’m the crazy, rule the world, fight like hell, and fight like hell while drunk product of shoddy breeding. I put my shoulder to the object of my rage and roll that mother like a fine joint. I’m halfway there and I’m not stopping. My Serb forefathers started World War One. I don’t even need a break. I will bend the world and nature to my will like my English forefathers shouting “Make the world England.” I’m 75% there and the Scott comes out. I see the green hills of my forefathers and the dirty rainy crap hole they lived in and kept pushing as if I am a participant in the Highland Games. Scenes of Brave Heart flash before me and I think Freedom! I get to the final feet and see the top. My mother is jumping up and down shouting you got this, you can do it, come on, make me proud. The Irishman kicks in and the fight is on. But wait, I’m 13. I have no liquid courage, AKA Irish fuel. And the machine runs out of steam. I slip; the log rolls over my 80-pound body, down the hill, off the path, and into a brier patch. I roll down the hill, flip-flops flying everywhere. It was like a B-52 strike in Nam. I get to the bottom of the hill, resting comfortably on my face.
I snap back to Serb. I’m nuts, I’m enraged, I erupt with profanity, obscenity, and disgust at how this piece of shit log will not heed my will. Why won’t you go home? Are you to good for your home? Answer me, log! I rush up the hill to my waiting mother who wants to say watch your language, but is probably just happy I didn’t break every bone in my body when the huge damn log rolled over my face. I tell my mom we are going home and start down the road. She starts to console me with its OK you’ll get bigger, it was a big hill, that was a huge log, the honor is in the attempt, and that’s when I cut her off. I say, “Hell no. I’m not done yet. I need shit. I need pants for briers, boots for the mud, gloves to protect my hands…

Does my new plan work?  Who will win when I return the Boy or Nature?  Buy my book Playing Your Hand Right: Showing America How to Live.  Self Published only three months ago and available on Amazon and Kindle.  4.8 out of 5 rating on Amazon so buy this puppy and spread the word of Taylor Oceans.  My book is 200 pages of my funny tales, my sexy tales, my insane tales, and my other tales you wont believe are true.  And don’t think its all on the blog either.  Bonus chapters only in the book.  Got to get you guys to buy the book somehow right?  So put down your bongs, pause the porn and click on the link below to get your hands on a page turner.

http://www.amazon.com/Playing-Your-Hand-Right-Showing/dp/1484829794/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1385767769&sr=8-1&keywords=playing+your+hand+right

And tell your friends to buy a copy too.

Long live the writers

Taylor Oceans

Drinking on a Date

DRINKING ON A DATE
Gentlemen, we are not in a drinking contest with these women; we are trying to get into their pants. Stop trying to show off how much you can drink, often failing, ending in embarrassing and inevitable vomiting moments or, God-forbid, whiskey dick. Gentlemen, show off your restraint and self-control. Fake some maturity and it may develop by accident. Learn the value of hydrating with water every other drink you order. It will keep you sober longer, help your kidneys, and help minimize a hangover, which is basically a self-inflicted case of dehydration. But enough of this, onto the funny story which proves my point.
So one night, I’m out with a banging field hockey player. Ass, legs, tits, face, I give it a ten. We go on a bar hopping escapade like no other. Now this was one of those women who tries to out drink you and I hate to admit it, I think she did. So we are going from one bar to another. I’m buying everything and getting half the bar drunk with us where ever we go. We are having a blast, I’m funny, charming, touching her just the right amount, I’m in like Flint. Then it happens. Can you get us into the after hours bar? At this point I planned to be just the right amount of drunk to get my Serbian hard fuck on. I’m drunk, locked and loaded and she wants to go to the after hours bar which smells like B.O. and vomit. Before I know it I’m saying, “Of course baby I can get you in anywhere and will go longer then any man.” Perplexed I found myself hailing a cab, getting in, and saying take us to the after hours joint. This is the problem. I’m not a member and am not even sure where this place is. Luckily, the cabby did and he dropped us off in the darkest, dankest alley in the murder capital of America at the time. We get out and this is the tip, guys. When she gets out, stick your head back in the cab and give the cabby a 20 to hang till we get in. If you can’t get into the club, have an escape plan. I walk up to a dark garage door with the name of the place spray painted on the door with some puke sprayed on it as well. A good sign. I bang on the door, it opens, and the bouncer pegs me for what I am, a runt with a 10 on his arm so I’m either hung or a drug dealer. He was a good judge of character. He asks for my membership card and I slip him a 50. Now Gents, a bribe in this case is the only option and it had better be big enough for him to except it. All after hours bars are the same. Drinks cost five times as much, so they are used to big spenders, so spend it if you want to hit it. It wouldn’t be uncommon for the bouncer to take the 5 you slipped him, the girl, and leave your runt ass in the cold.
So we are in and as all other late night places, it stinks like ass, which starts the nausea. Now we have had basically every type of liquor, started on beer, and need I mention the huge rails we had been taking all night. So I don’t feel good and we keep drinking because I am the man or at least a Huburis schmuck. We have now been drinking for eight hours and she is ready to try that Serbian pounding so we get a cab. Walking out of the place, I realize I have an 80% chance of booting. I thought of going to the bathroom, but if you’re caught booting in most bars, they will throw you out so I have to make it home. We smoke a little weed while waiting for the cab and that worked a little, but as soon as we get in the cab, it all goes wrong. He takes the bumpiest, longest way home and I’m not feeling well. She is talking and happy; I’m pretending to listen without booting. I’m now at 90% chance of booting and considering my options. Do I tell the cabby to pull over, can I make it home and save my reputation? How the hell am I going to fuck without booting? I can’t even ride in a cab and it happens. Major liquor boot is coming up my throat. I look for anything, damn it the window doesn’t work I need a bucket, God help me I don’t want to boot in a cab with a 10. God save my soul, I’ll do what ever you want. Become a monk. Build you a cathedral. Paint a Sistine Chapel. Confess my sins. Whatever you want, Lord. Help me, please!
Apparently, God was taking a shit that second and I boot. Somehow I catch it in my mouth without spraying it all over the back of the driver’s head. So there I am, mouth full of vomit, in a cab, with a 10. We have three blocks to go and an idea hits me. Keep it in your mouth and when the cab stops hop out and let it out on the other side of the car where no one will notice. She is still talking and has no idea the totally fucked, humiliating, disgusting, situation I’m in. Do you guys remember what it tasted like in your mouths for three blocks? No you don’t. I’m the only fucking person on earth who ever got stuck in this situation…  Does my plan work?  Do I still give her the serb fire or do I crash and burn?  Buy my book, this is just one of the 43 page turning chapters…Link Below  And dont forget bonus chapters never before seen in the blog.

http://www.amazon.com/Playing-Your-Hand-Right-Showing/dp/1484829794/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1385767769&sr=8-1&keywords=playing+your+hand+right

And a Repost Reminder to get your free signed book below

GIFT OF GIVING BOOK GIVE AWAY CONTEST

In the spirit of Festivus (all religions and Seinfeld welcome here, I’m a half assed Buddhist) I’m offering a challenge to you America.  I guess world at this point 9,000 disciples baby.  From South Korea to North Dakota 63,734 views on this blog.  I want you to go out and be Gentleman and Ladies.  I want a video, picture or letter (not to long people) of you doing good deeds.  Take out your neighbors trash.  Pull over and help someone who is broken down.  Save the girls field hockey team from getting raped.  Should probably leave that one to me, but it made a great chapter for my book.  Suit up and be nice America, to get a signed copy of my book Playing Your Hand Right: Showing America how to Live for Festivus.  I will personally shimmy my scrauny self down your chimney like the fat dude in the red suit, and put it under the Festivous Pole.  (Joking) To be entered for a chance to Win a signed Copy go to the books FB page (https://www.facebook.com/taylor.oceans.3) and like the page and in the comments tell me about your Christmas mitzvah. All comments will be entered for a chance to win a signed copy of the book. 2 winners will be chosen contest ends Christmas Eve 12/24/13.  Be creative, funny and send all entries to playingyourhandright@gmail.com or post on face book.  The winners will be posted on my blog and Face Book (Taylor Oceans) so you can share it with your friends and family.  Not to mention the free book to start the new year with a laugh.  Merry Festivus everyone!

Long Live the Writers

Taylor Oceans

P.S.  Since it’s my job to show you how to live America I will start the good deed book give away myself.  I just sent two of my books to books for troops as my way of being a gentleman today.  Every day be a Gentleman or Lady America.  Here is the address.  Mail then some stuff and take a pic of your package to win a free signed copy of my book.  I will pick two winners.  Get creative America and get to it America.  This world doesn’t have to be such a piece of shit.

Ebony Simone McMillan

Hi Taylor Books for Troops – Donations can be mailed to…

Books for Troops c/o Ebony McMillan 112 Michael Ave East Hartford, CT 06108

Thank you so much for wanting to be apart of this project

~Ebony

WE HAVE OUR FIRST CONTESTANT ANYONE ELSE WANT TO STEP UP AND BE GENTLEMAN AND LADIES?

The first Contestant.  Send your tales to playingyourhandright@gmail.com or post on the FB page (Taylor Oceans) to get a chance to win a free signed copy of my book.  Two will be given away. Be Gentleman and Ladies America. Be the change.  Now here is the first letter I have received.

I re-read your blog from Dec 13 this morning about helping someone. It was spontaneous,……I came out of a parking lot, walking, and there was this guy in a wheelchair having a hard time coming up a ramp. I thought of your instructions and I pushed him up the ramp. He looked so shocked. He turned around and said with such joy….”Happy Holidays”. I said “You too!” I had the warmest glow come over me from head to toe.

Thanks!
r

Gift of Giving Book Give Away Contest

In the spirit of Festivus (all religions and Seinfeld welcome here, I’m a half assed Buddhist) I’m offering a challenge to you America.  I guess world at this point 9,000 disciples baby.  From South Korea to North Dakota 63,734 views on this blog.  I want you to go out and be Gentleman and Ladies.  I want a video, picture or letter (not to long people) of you doing good deeds.  Take out your neighbors trash.  Pull over and help someone who is broken down.  Save the girls field hockey team from getting raped.  Should probably leave that one to me, but it made a great chapter for my book.  Suit up and be nice America, to get a signed copy of my book Playing Your Hand Right: Showing America how to Live for Festivus.  I will personally shimmy my scrauny self down your chimney like the fat dude in the red suit, and put it under the Festivous Pole.  (Joking) To be entered for a chance to Win a signed Copy go to the books FB page (https://www.facebook.com/taylor.oceans.3) and like the page and in the comments tell me about your Christmas mitzvah. All comments will be entered for a chance to win a signed copy of the book. 2 winners will be chosen contest ends Christmas Eve 12/24/13.  Be creative, funny and send all entries to playingyourhandright@gmail.com or post on face book.  The winners will be posted on my blog and Face Book (Taylor Oceans) so you can share it with your friends and family.  Not to mention the free book to start the new year with a laugh.  Merry Festivus everyone!

Long Live the Writers

Taylor Oceans

P.S.  Since it’s my job to show you how to live America I will start the good deed book give away myself.  I just sent two of my books to books for troops as my way of being a gentleman today.  Every day be a Gentleman or Lady America.  Here is the address.  Mail then some stuff and take a pic of your package to win a free signed copy of my book.  I will pick two winners.  Get creative America and get to it America.  This world doesn’t have to be such a piece of shit.

Ebony Simone McMillan

Hi Taylor Books for Troops – Donations can be mailed to…

Books for Troops c/o Ebony McMillan 112 Michael Ave East Hartford, CT 06108

Thank you so much for wanting to be apart of this project

~Ebony

 

WE HAVE OUR FIRST CONTESTANT ANYONE ELSE WANT TO STEP UP AND BE GENTLEMAN AND LADIES?

The first Contestant.  Send your tales to playingyourhandright@gmail.com or post on the FB page (Taylor Oceans) to get a chance to win a free signed copy of my book.  Two will be given away. Be Gentleman and Ladies America. Be the change.  Now here is the first letter I have received.

I re-read your blog from Dec 13 this morning about helping someone. It was spontaneous,……I came out of a parking lot, walking, and there was this guy in a wheelchair having a hard time coming up a ramp. I thought of your instructions and I pushed him up the ramp. He looked so shocked. He turned around and said with such joy….”Happy Holidays”. I said “You too!” I had the warmest glow come over me from head to toe.

Thanks!
r

 

Just passed 9,000 disciples on Word Press and Face Book

For what is a man, what has he got?
If not himself, then he has naught
To say the things he truly feels and not the words of one who kneels
The record shows I took the blows and did it my way!

Just passed 9,000 disciples writing it my way and just wanted to say thanks america. When I started this blog ten months ago I was very nervous about my writing and not to optimistic about ever finishing my book. 9048 disciples later and my book published 60 days ago I’m starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. I’ve got 50 of my books next to me right now and they are about to be mailed out to all the local book stores, radio stations, and T.V Stations in my fair city to spread the word. Think happy thoughts for me America and keep buying books. Who knows, some day may see my book in barns and noble and remember you found me blogging and living my way. Thanks for reading, buying books and giving hope to a writer trying to live life his way.
As always link to my book on amazon below. For 9,000 disciples I have lowered the kindle copy to three bucks and will keep it down for a few days so if you haven’t bought my book yet give it a three dollar try. Link below.

http://www.amazon.com/Playing-Your-Hand-Right-Showing/dp/1484829794/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1385767769&sr=8-1&keywords=playing+your+hand+right

Long Live the Writers
And don’t forget to live life your way

Taylor Oceans

Another book review

these fell through the cracks.  I didn’t even know you could comment on the amazon page and I see I have gotten two comments and two 5 out of 5 stars.  Hell yeah.  This is what they said.

Format: Kindle Edition Amazon Verified Purchase

Absolutely loved this book. The tales were humorous yet so real. He has such an interesting outlook on life. Great writer, hope to see more.

Comment  

Thank you for your feedback.

By NikkiK on October 18, 2013

Format: Paperback

Taylor takes you with him on his adventures. His style of writing brings humor to the most simple of takes. Beer pong and dealers, sex toys and Mitzvahs, fires and and log rolling…oh my!

You’ll read about the boy turning to a gentleman. The kid turning to an adult. The Nieve turning experienced and all in 200 pages. This book is a compilation of stories that will grab your attention and make you take notice.

It’s not for the faint of heart and requires all who venture forth to strap in and keep your hands inside the car. Once the ride is moving there’s no turning back. 

There is something in this book for everyone. The war with his friends. The fire that takes his eyebrows, the Valentines day special. For every vice a fix and every itch finds a scratch. From glass pipes to glass dil*** and glasses of scotch. College buddies and drug buddies and f*** buddies alike…Taylor proves life is there for the taking, you just grab hold and enjoy!

 
Thanks again for the comments and join the club of satisfied book readers.  The book is two months old and just passed 20 books sold.  Clearly not what I had hoped however the comments are far better then I had ever dreamed so it’s give and take.  Please give my self published book a try and rest assured the three dollars I make off you will be spent on the book.  Just ordered 50 copies to mail to publishers, radio station, T.V. Stations, books stores and more.  Books don’t sell themselves and I appreciate all the help I can get because I’m breaking out America.  Time to show you guys how to live.  Follow on Face Book (Taylor Oceans).  Link to my book below.  Buy it and help a struggling author break out.    
 

A Silent Vow

A SILENT VOW
Most people don’t get jaded until they are at least twenty or thirty, while others realized there was something wrong with their fellow man at a very young age. Rewind a life tape to late nineties to see a boy just learning to drive a stick shift. Now, this little boy had been saving his entire short 15-year-old life to buy himself a car. You see he was always competitive and when his mother remarried, he became the youngest of five ranging from 15 to 22. All of his older siblings fought over the car and he wanted to be the first to get his own. The boy wouldn’t have to answer to anyone when he wanted to go somewhere. Well he saved up all his pennies and his mom helped him by matching every dollar he put into the bank. For years, he saved his pennies better than any kid his age till he saved up 3,000 bucks; 1,500 of which was his own money.
The boy is 15 and he has bought a red BMW. Don’t let that fool you; a Cuban refugee would call it “A piece of lizard shit on a hot day.” Nevertheless, the boy was so proud. He was about to get his learner’s permit and, being from a small town, his mom said he could drive out of the driveway and take a left. She figured even this boy couldn’t hurt himself on two miles of road. The boy hopped into his car one day after school and said he was going to the dead end and back to practice his stick shift. He leaves and due to a combination of shitty driving, even crappier roads, and a sun glare at just the right time, the boy flips his car upside down, flying twenty feet before landing on the roof.
The car slides on its roof, towards a cliff over a river. Since it was a small town, technically a village, there are no guardrails. Upside down, still buckled into his seat, the boy sees the oncoming cliff over a river, with only a few small trees in the way. The car smashes into a tree on the passenger side, destroying the door. It bounces into another tree on the driver side door, pinning the boy onto the center console by placing the driver side door on his left leg and hip. The car rebounded off this tree, facing the car perfectly towards the cliff it’s about to slide over. The young boy knows if the car doesn’t stop, it’s a thirty-foot drop onto a small beach or a river. He remembers playing on that beach, getting a huge chopping block and sailing around the point. The car loses momentum, but continues moving towards the cliff, crushing two more small trees and the hood goes over. The car teeters on the cliff’s edge as it slides over. He sees nothing out the windshield but beach and river thirty feet down. He dangles upside down pinned by the door that was neatly placed in his lap via oak tree number two. Then the car stops…
A small tree just before the cliff has gotten stuck in the sunroof. The boy realizes the car is still running and wheels still turning. It happened so fast he still has his foot on the gas. He shuts off the ignition and takes in his new situation. He is pinned in his seat by the door that was smashed onto his left leg. The other door is smashed and won’t open. Unbelievably, none of the windows are shattered.
Then he smells gas. Out of the pan and into the fire. This boy was always a bit of a fatalist and a James Bond fan. He knew a flipped car plus leaking gas equals fiery death. The count down begins in his head. THREE… I’m going to die a virgin. LIFE FAIL! He knows the engine is trashed, smoking, and gas is everywhere. He watches gas pool under him and run down the windshield towards the engine. TWO… I never sailed around the world so many times I forgot how many times. LIFE FAIL! He knows when the gas gets to the dashboard it will blow. He is strangely calm. He knows only once in your life is there no point in fighting. There is not enough time to get his leg free, break a window and get clear. ONE… I never had sex with 14 women at once on a boat. LIFE FAIL! He watches the catalyst of his death flow into the dashboard… Nothing. He sits there ready to be roasted by God. And nothing…
The boy says fuck it, I’m gone! Luckily, he is the runt of the litter and worms his leg free. He may have only survived the car being crumbled around him because he was small enough. He unbuckles his seat belt, not realizing it is the only thing keeping him in his seat; the car is upside down. As soon as he hits the buckle, the seat belt retracts snagging his left shoulder; he falls, dislocating his left arm. Simultaneously, his head smashes into the handle to open the sunroof. Remember, the car is a piece of lizard shit on a hot day and the sunroof has a hand crank. 81 BMW, baby.
The boy with a dislocated shoulder, major headache and covered in gas says, “Fuck. I got this.” He resolves to punch out the driver’s side window to escape. Slam. Did I mention the boy was a 15-year-old runt? He can’t break a window swinging in that cramped space. Smash. The boy says to himself, “Look fucker, do you want to burn to death? Or, get the fuck out of here, grow up to be a bad ass, and bang 14 Brazilian volleyball players on your sailboat?
BOOOOOOOM. The boy smashes the window and he is free. He climbs out of the car, with a dislocated shoulder, just in time to see an oncoming car. Finally. Help. This is over. He waves his right arm because he can’t lift his left. The car passes close enough so the driver and the boy can lock eyes. The boy read apathy in the driver’s eyes as the car passed by. At fifteen, the boy made a silent vow to himself. If he ever saw someone who needed help, he would help. He would never stoop to the servile level of leaving a small boy next to a wrecked car on the side of the road.
The boy knew he had to finish this himself. Cowboy up. He slammed his dislocated shoulder into the trunk of the car to knock it back in as he had seen Mel Gibson do in Lethal Weapon. Surprisingly, it worked on the second knock. He then ran a mile home so pumped up on adrenalin he didn’t even notice the piece of glass in his shoe that shredded his foot. The boy grew up, lived an interesting life to say the least, and wrote this story for you.
But he never forgot his vow to help others in need. Gentlemen always stop.

Thanks for ready America and if you like this buy my book Playing Your Hand Right: Showing America How to Live and help an author break out.  Available on amazon.com.  Don’t think because you have read my blog you have read my work.  I have held back key chapters that are only in the book.  Some sexy, some action packed, and others guaranteed page turners. Here is one of the reviews my book has received.  Follow me on face book (Taylor Oceans) and I will post your reviews with the rest.    http://www.amazon.com/Playing-Your-Hand-Right-Showing/dp/1484829794/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1385423520&sr=8-1&keywords=playing+your+hand+right

Posted by  in Blog LoveBooksLifeWriting

Earlier this year I shared some blog love when I wrote about Taylor Ocean’s blog, Playing Your Hand Right. Taylor’s story is interesting because although he’s been trying to get his writing published he was repeatedly turned away until someone suggested he tried to build evidence of a following through blogging, to show publishers that he had a readership audience. This month Taylor finally got his memoir book of the same name published, and I spent the day reading it.

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To the uninitiated, the autobiography might come as a bit of a shock but if you’re familiar with Taylor’s blog which features part of his book in rough, it’s really a continuation of the rollercoaster adventure that is his life. From his village beginnings as the undersized son of a single mother, to his career as a coke-dealer, his relationship with his estranged father until his death and I think most significantly his developed life philosophy that he calls ‘being a Gentleman’, Taylor’s story is a tale of caution and exhortation, a call to live life decently, in a most irreverent manner.

“Some of this will not pertain to you, much of this will offend you, but I guarantee there is at least one good piece of information in my tales for you.”

His most ardent ‘disciples’ (his term for fans, not mine) will have to forgive me but I was taught the important of grammar, spelling and formatting to the effect that the pleasure of reading for me is part and parcel of the flow – and any deviations or lack of care in these areas will always affect the flow. It’s a small criticism for what essentially is the rather unique voice Taylor has in his writing, which in the end is what kept me reading on nevertheless; storytelling is an art and Taylor has found his medium, brush strokes be damned.

Taylor was right though – many things in the book I did not like or agree with, but this was not really a surprise. As readers of this blog will know, I enjoy the opportunity to learn more about what life is like for other people – it’s why I think personal blogging is such a great way to build empathy and give insight into the billion lives we’ll never live. We may have been born only a year apart, but my life could not be more different from Taylor’s, and so much of what he has to say at times (especially because this book is essentially a sermon to America) had little to offer me. I found myself wishing for a bit of light and shade, which is difficult to develop when you’re doing a drive-by through life, which is what this book is. I wanted Taylor to take me beyond the blog. Instead, it felt like he was standing just out of reach. But some things are universal, and these moments are amazing. There were so many moments I laughed out loud, and I’m not sure if he’s a fan of Breaking Bad but I think he could give Jesse Pinkman a run for his money. Taylor, I think you’ve got a amazing script in you that Hollywood would just love to eat up.

We are all stuck on this planet together till we get to Mars, or blow ourselves up. Don’t forget Zombies. So we may as well shut the fuck up, get drunk, possibly high depending on your state, have some protected consensual sex, and just COEXIST.

In the end it’s hard not to give props to Taylor, who I think whether you agree with his viewpoints or not, is very much one of us. For giving this writing thing a go and working hard to make this happen, from a fellow aspiring writer and blogger, kudos to you Taylor for using your voice. May it encourage more of us to do the same.

I bought Playing Your Hand Right: Showing America How To Live for Kindle/iPad,here.  http://www.amazon.com/Playing-Your-Hand-Right-Showing/dp/1484829794/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1385423520&sr=8-1&keywords=playing+your+hand+right

Taking Chances

America I took a chance this week on one hell of a woman.  The one who broke my nose during sex if you have read that post.  Its hard for me to be close to people.  Sure I will help my friends and I’m a considerate Gentleman always holding the door and shit. However when you have been ditched, beaten, robbed, or shot at a few times you armor gets a little thick.  Its harder to let people in and your happy to remain an enigma.  My friends and family don’t even know I write. But this weekend I let my guard down.  I gave her a chance, she stayed with me for five days and we had a wonderful time.  The sex was too hot for even my blog.  But I took a chance on her and she took a chance on me.  I was nervous, I was challenged, I was excited, and my heart was racing.  And it felt good.

I took a chance America.  I left my comfort zone and thrived.  I had the confidence to jump and I had a great weekend.  Take a chance this week America.  Leave your comfort zone.  The statistical veil we Americans cover our faces with to hide from the dangerous, the unknown.  Stop being so fucking safe America, listening to whatever CNN Doctor is filling you with fear and doubt with the newest risk that will kill us all.  We all are going to die.  We are all shiting, eating, fucking, murdering soon to die animals.

Life is fleeting, far to fast, like sand running out of the hour glass never to return nor repeat. Before you know it, your waiting for the grim reaper to open the door with nothing to help your courage but a list of regrets.  A hollow idea of what your life should have been.  America I have seen the grim reaper and he is one mean shit.(not going spiritual on you its a metaphor).  I have stared down guns and dodged bullets.  I have almost killed and almost loved.  But I’m going to change and this weekend was a great one.  America stop listening to the pussies who say be happy with what you are.  Take those books and wipe your ass with it you will get more use.  Don’t be happy with yourself however don’t hate yourself.  Realize that we all are fucking, shitting, mistake making animals, but unlike most animals we are self aware.  I think therefore I am.  We can see that we have the power to better ourselves and never stop bettering ourselves till the grim reaper shows his face and says dude you ruled…  But its your time time to leave the party.

Through learning, pain and chances we find who we really are and if you don’t like what you see change.  Four years ago I was a coke addict, who’s only relationships was with the strippers that passed through my bed room. I can’t remember one of their names not one.  I wanted more.  I quit coke, I quit dealing and have the empty bank account to prove it.  But I took a chance America.  I bet on myself because who the hell else will?  Take a chance America and better yourself. she is one hell of a woman.

Feel like taking a chance right now?  Try my book.  Just published and available on amazon.com right now.  I know I’m a long shot but sometimes a long shot can pay off big.  Link to my book follows. http://www.amazon.com/Playing-Your-Hand-Right-Showing/dp/1484829794/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1384734018&sr=8-1&keywords=playing+your+hand+right

Long Live the Writers

Taylor Oceans

 

P.S.  America

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lQlIhraqL7o

 

Happy Halloween

Hello America here is a Halloween present for all of you. Normally this blog is only the rough drafts of my book, but here is a final copy pulled directly from the book.  Don’t forget I’m selling my book for half price for only four more days as a celebration of 8,000 disciples.  So America get out your credit cards and take an 8 dollar chance on my book.  You guys like my blog so try the book and its bonus chapters not included in the blog.  As always thanks for reading and thanks to those who paid full price for the book.  I have only gotten one book review back and would love to post more.  After you read my book email me your thoughts at playingyourhandright@gmail.com.  Link to the book below

https://www.createspace.com/4262251

And remember no drunk driving.  Don’t want to buy my book fine, but I catch any of my boys driving drunk I’m slamming your balls in the hood of the car.  I catch any ladies drunk driving I’m paying another lady to hit you because gentleman don’t hit ladies.  But they sure as hell will pay to have it done.

Long live the writers

Oceans

TAPE IN WALLET
Back in the day, I was tending bar at a Halloween party. I was 23, the girl’s house we were at was 21, and most of the kids were underage freshman. So anyone would figure I’m going to get busted for contributing to the delinquency of minors. I figure if they are already delinquents, I cannot contribute to what is already done. So the party is going great, I’m making some money for the girls, and I can drink as much as I want, including Jell-O shots.
Then it happened. COPS! RUN! And every one scatters. Now I couldn’t run because the girls looked to me to deal with such problems and I was fucking one of them so it’s either fix this or find new Halloween pussy. I like a challenge and always have a plan.
Tape in my wallet and a second Halloween costume. Knowing when one of those delinquents gets caught drunk by the cops, he will be asked who gave you the booze. The delinquent’s response will be “Chewbacca,” due to my fine choice of costume, one that covers your face. When the Cops showed up, I ran upstairs to the girls’ room and under her bed was my plan B bag; get one. I rush into her bedroom dressed as Chewbacca to find a random girl sitting on the bed. Without saying anything, I dive between her legs to get at my bag under the bed she is sitting on while stripping off my chewy costume. She is in utter shock and in two seconds I’m in my boxers in the middle of the floor taping bags of illicit material to my stomach and putting on a toga. In ten seconds, I’ve changed from chewy to Socrates and taped my bags of “party favors” to my person and am heading out the door. I left that girl on the bed bewildered as the turkey in the previous chapter.
I got three steps back downstairs when I realize the house is full of cops interrogating the girls. All at once the cops turn and see me and I suddenly realized how truly drunk off my ass I was. The cops tells me to come down and asks if I know Chewbacca. Bear in mind, every girl in the house knew I was Chewbacca. It was as if God himself put these words in my mouth and before I realized, I had already spoken. “Yeah, that son of a bitch got behind my bar, was giving out drinks to the underage kids, and selling drugs. He ran out the back when you guys got here and you may still catch him if you hurry.” Those sons a bitches ran out the back door so fast, light would have felt handicapped. I look at my Halloween date and it was wet for she had just discovered my genius and hoped that genius extended into the bedroom. And on that night it did, kids. I said party on to the rest of the delinquents and the music started back up. Later that night, I hit it like a head on collision and walked home knowing I had renewed my gold standard of Gentleman’s behavior. Stick with your woman and please the fuck out of her.
Now, for the tape in the wallet. This can keep you out of jail. If you can’t be safe, be smart. Use a gift card of some sort, to hold tape in your wallet so in case of a sudden search you have ready tape to attach any illegal merchandise to your person. Take an old card in your wallet, I use a Marshall’s card, and cover it with tape. Duct tape is the norm, but I vary it because duct tape cannot quite do it for me. I use a breathable waterproof surgical tape. If necessary, this kind of tape can be left on the body for an extended amount of time yet is very comfortable.
So Gentlemen, in conclusion, before you go out on All Hallow’s Eve, be sure to remember your supplies:
An initial costume that covers your face.
A plan B costume that may cover your face.
3 condoms, as always.
And the card in your wallet….with surgical tape on it.
With these supplies and proper Gentleman action you can never go wrong on that favorite of slutty holidays.