I Dream Of A Great Feast, First Though…

“He’d noticed that sex bore some resemblance to cookery: it fascinated people, they sometimes bought books full of complicated recipes and interesting pictures, and sometimes when they were really hungry they created vast banquets in their imagination – but at the end of the day they’d settle quite happily for egg and chips. If it was well done and maybe had a slice of tomato.”

-Terry Pratchett

Thank you for indulging my need to not write here every day. I say thank you because in spite or despite of my lack of continual writing people still visit in the numbers they did when I posted every day. That says a lot to me.

The last ingredients for Thanksgiving were purchased today. We are ready to begin cooking. Normally I would not say we I would say Barb is ready to cook, as Thanksgiving is the one day of the year where she cooks and only she cooks. There are several famous helper “incidents” that I could tell you about; cutting to the end of each, “She yelled at me because I didn’t do X Y or Z.” Unfortunately due to a conflux of events she may need/want help in the kitchen this time.

Event 1, she has a cold or at least sounds like she has a cold…she says she feels fine despite a cough that wakes the dead (read me)…sick people (or not) need a hand, thus she may have a helper

Event 2, her work schedule…being a pharmacist does not leave a lot (read any) free time around the holidays when you are the new person on the block…funny new is a relative term, seems pharmacists stay for long times making seniority something measured in decades…unlike previous years she has one day for prep instead of few days, thus she may have a helper

Event 3, mouse season, this has nothing to do with cooking, but cleaning. Seems in   there is such a thing as mouse season, we have gotten several independent references to the time of year when the weather turns cold and filed mice look for places to hide…they found our place

I declared WAR! Turned our house into deathtrap dungeon and instituted a strict policy of cleanliness. Not that we were dirty people, but with four people messes happen, and with one primary cleaner (me) some messes lasted longer than necessary. Not anymore. Knock on wood my war is being won and with the timely assistance of at least one if not two feral cats we have not seen a mouse for several weeks. Vigilance remains the word though, which means Barb will have at least one dishwasher in the kitchen with her at all times cleaning as she uses cookware. Hardly ideal, I already have a rotation worked out for those too “stressed” by her potential “yelling about X Y or Z.”

We shall see.

What I do know is that Barb’s Thanksgiving meals are looked forward to each year by everyone who has ever had the pleasure of being at our table. We like to have as many people over as possible, although there are times the numbers are not as large as we hope, the dream is to have everyone over once a year for a great feast.

“I celebrated Thanksgiving in an old-fashioned way. I invited everyone in my neighborhood to my house, we had an enormous feast, and then I killed them and took their land.”

-Jon Stewart


The Soul of this Writer just doesn’t give a Damn during the month of November.

The primary function of quotation marks is to set off and represent exact language (either spoken or written) that has come from somebody else. The quotation mark is also used to designate speech acts in fiction and sometimes poetry.

In some styles, such as the MLA style, some longer quotations that span multiple lines shouldn’t use quotation marks. Instead, the quote should start on a new line and be indented.

Another use of quotation marks are scare quotes which are used to mean “so-called”, or to express irony.

-The Purdue OWL

Once a year I gain a year, gain an hour, and lose my shit every time people ask me if I the writer will participate in the annual November writing thing. Some letters that mean absolutely nothing to me and while I get that people need a reminder to write or in this case write with an absurd goal of word count X in time frame X I do enjoy watching those who enjoy the challenge taking up the mantle of writer…for a month.

This writer goes on hibernation during the month of November. No clue why. Happened even before the event became a thing, yet another reason why social media is losing its luster-bang out 140 characters, copy a meme, take a photo of your food (most of the time food you did nothing more than order), or post a status update for all of your followers who have nothing better to do than follow your every move, essentially vicariously living your life-and suddenly you to (two) ((too)) are a writer in the same way that anyone can open their fist hole and spew out words in an volume over conversational and in a cadence that matches something akin to music of two cats fucking and you two (too) ((TUE)) are a singer.

And all the while the world continues to burn. Ah well there will always be one last cat meme.

You might think that I am in a bad mood, no more than usual. Just tired of the now annual, “but you are a writer, why don’t you write 30,000 in a month,” bullshit. Why? Because I am a writer and I know how I writer. This writer, bangs out material for 10 months a year and for TUE (to) ((too)) takes a break. A break that has nothing to do with writers block because the writing ideas flow great, what doesn’t is the pen to paper or fingers to keys other than missives such as this where I open the top of my head and dump the contents of my brain…well more like skim the congealed fat off the soup…onto to whatever media I currently fancy which seems to be paper.

Paper just takes. Takes my ink. Takes my ideas. And paper holds. The only editing I can do to paper is scratch out the words, erase the words-but no the indentation caused through the force of my writing is still there-or crumple up the paper, the ultimate form of editing. See, I crumpled up your words and tossed them into the trash (or in my case tossed them in the direction of the trash, I am a horrible thrower of things into other things). You can’t crumple up a computer as easily or a file…although you delete…then again nothing is ever deleted forever…like herpes, pen to paper, and that one night-stand you really really wish would stop calling you…it was one night damnit.

One Night Stand with Accessories 🙂

No, not you. Some other one night stand. You know that time at the place where the thing and all of that.

What does a writer on hiatus (good word) do during apparently the only month when writers are supposed to write do? This writer reads. This writer paints. This writer jots down notes for later. This writer does not write. The soul of this writer just doesn’t give a damn during the month of November.

“Substitute ‘damn’ every time you’re inclined to write ‘very;’ your editor will delete it and the writing will be just as it should be.”

-Mark Twain

Rounding Up Can Kiss My Ass

“At 50, everyone has the face he deserves.”

-George Orwell

Scrunching her face up, her deep thinking pose, our girl says the following while pointing at me across the table, “You said he is older than you.”

“Yep,” Barb says and then leans in and whispers something into our girl’s ear.

“So fifties,” she says with a smile.

I’m laughing.

“If you round up like my teacher says to then you are in your fifties.”

Screw you math!

Maybe you can tell or maybe you cannot because I really haven’t said much about the subject like I normally do, but based on our daughter’s rounding math my birthday is somewhere in the near future. No, I am not fishing for any happy birthdays. Although if you want to send some along I am not saying no.

“It’s paradoxical that the idea of living a long life appeals to everyone, but the idea of getting old doesn’t appeal to anyone.”

-Andy Rooney

What I am saying apparently is that my birthday is around the corner and due to a rounding lesson I have jumped from spry 40ish to spry 50ish. I refuse to say older or old because as my doctor recently put it…

“You are,” making the hand gestures for smaller than larger, “…smaller. I don’t need to see you for 6 months, keep up the exercise.”

Suck it exercise bike my ass is on you for LIFE! Life I say. I will become an indoor biker wearing really tight bicycling shorts peddling to nowhere while watching WhatCulture (What Culture is fucking hilarious…to me) on YouTube until the fat falls off and the muscles split my overly tight pants…until I look like a Greek God…probably Pan, but you get the idea, ripped and hairy…no flute playing…or is there? 🙂

Normally or typically around the start of the month of my birth I get all melancholy (personally I like meloncowly; think water melon and cow or insert your favorite melon and bovine…now that is a mental image) and waxing nostalgic. Not this year. No clue why other than waxing hurts and life has done a lot of changing over the past year and I am still attempting to come to grips with the changes. No nothing is wrong, just we went from college destitute to post college life and despite having had a pre-college destitute life this new phase is a hell of a lot more fun.

Without meloncowly and nostalgia to drive me for a month what is there? Well a shit ton of painting, terrain building, writing, house cleaning, dishes, dinners, schedules, and taking care of all of the bullshit that makes up a day in the life of ME, which does not sound better in Klingon although if I had to guess my life would only marginally be more interesting if I was a Klingon…actually probably a lot worse…speaking of which, watch Orville if you can. I don’t care if you don’t like Seth McFarlane this show has all of the feel good vibes of Star Trek with a better sense of how things should be in that the characters act as people. Trust me.

And that is why rounding up can kiss my ass!

“And here…we…go!”


Piss Off! Working :)

“I hate writing, I love having written.”

-Dorothy Parker

Before any of my relatives who read this get too excited, I am still a stay-at-home, exercise bike riding, painting, writer. That being said I said, can I say said twice so shortly in one sentence? I guess if I am quoting myself and I am, shit need the quote marks, “I will write when I have something of interest to write about.” Or something like that and likely better in the original Klingon…let’s see…

qapumchu’meH HeghDI’ vay’ Daj ghItlh umqu’ ghot jIH

-Finally Klingon for every word 🙂

See that was better. The gist of the story and my “absence” (the quotes indicate that the word absence is not what I truly meant, just a handy tip from me to…well probably me) is that I am hard at work redoing Puddles and Whiskers. Yes, I know how many times can one person work or one reader read the same stuff? The answer for me at least is, UNTIL I GET IT WRITE! See what I did there?

As a writer or as this writer, I am very happy with my writing until I am not, typically this happens while reviewing (my new word for editing in an attempt to make editing more palatable like adding ketchup or pepper to shitty food, which by the way, if you add ketchup or pepper to food I make for you the first thing I think is “They think my food taste bad”) my writing, something I do a lot with Puddles and Whiskers. However, this time the act of attempting to write a follow-up got me in a state of unhappiness with the writing.

So I pondered and pondered out loud on Puddles and Whiskers and of all things while watching Silicon Valley hit on the idea of a pivot point. This pivot point, instead of wedging Puddles and Whiskers into Stroud why not alter Stroud to fit them? Thus over the past few…however long since I posted DICTATIONSHIP, I have been working on turning Stroud into Menagerie.

Our girl’s Puddles and Whiskers art, by the way. There is more art on Puddles and Whiskers. 🙂

Menagerie for everyone who is not a long time reader, is a serial story I started with animals in space. Space is science fiction, Stroud is a science fiction cyberpunkish setting, thus one plus one equals a lot of work for me. I wasn’t sure how the story would work out, but had to try because I was stuck.

The result, in my opinion, a hell of a lot better. While altering the characters into animals, I found story elements that needed to change or alter, resulting in a stronger story with less “AH HA” moments or “What the Fuck, where did that come from” moments than before. Now, I am not finished, but I am further along that I thought I would get. Oh yeah, for those who want to see a sample of what I am talking about, here you go (yes a link I like the pretty colors.)

So like I said, less bullshit here and more substance. Finding a better story within a story I already enjoyed is something of substance for myself, those who enjoy Puddles and Whiskers, and fellow writers who find themselves stuck…sometimes making a pivot point is the best way to get unstuck.

“I think there are two types of writers, the architects and the gardeners. The architects plan everything ahead of time, like an architect building a house. They know how many rooms are going to be in the house, what kind of roof they’re going to have, where the wires are going to run, what kind of plumbing there’s going to be. They have the whole thing designed and blueprinted out before they even nail the first board up. The gardeners dig a hole, drop in a seed and water it. They kind of know what seed it is, they know if planted a fantasy seed or mystery seed or whatever. But as the plant comes up and they water it, they don’t know how many branches it’s going to have, they find out as it grows. And I’m much more a gardener than an architect.”

-George R.R. Martin


Maybe The Exercise Bike Is Right

“Your days are numbered. Use them to throw open the windows of your soul to the sun. If you do not, the sun will soon set, and you with it.”

-Marcus Aurelius, The Emperor’s Handbook

The exercise bike says I am a fat ass out of shape writer. Fine it did not say the writer part.

The list to my left says I have something I have not had for a while, goals and the means to reach them.

The list beneath my keyboard says I have something to do each day, even if that something is not something I want to do.

Welcome to my climbing out of the chasm-sized rut. To wit, this will be your regular post…once a week on Sunday at sometime. After reading the past few whatevers of posts I have decided to post once a week here. This has two effects-

  1. hopefully when I post I have something to say other than what is on my mind or what I did; for those who want to know what I have done, ask
  2. reduce the amount of time wasted allowing me to focus on goals such as figuring out where the u key is today. Sorry, such as having a rough draft of the complete second arc of Puddles and Whiskers done by the 22nd of the month or riding the exercise bike three to four times a week

I think about covers it, hardly entertaining…oh wait…

Destiny 2 released last week and we have played from the moment the game went live in our area. This amount of play may account for the fat ass comment by the bike, screw you bike, getting my warlock to level 20 was important to me in the same way as…name some other video game related goal and it was as important as that.

As a long time Destiny player I feel they got this sequel right. The bad guy is an actual bad guy with bad guy dialog and a desire to defeat the bad guy, which never happened to us in Destiny 1.

Graphics are a huge improvement as are the 1,000’s of tiny tweaks such as being able to color each component of your character or characters will attempt to catch the edge of something and pull themselves up instead of bouncing off the edge and falling to their doom or bad guys fight better or public events are awesome. No longer do you go into a public event knowing exactly what will happen, sometimes a public event increases in difficulty as more enemies arrive or new enemies or in one case last night-one tank turned into two then into two tanks with a major enemy from another faction and then a major enemy from the tank faction and that was without the six or seven players taking part.

I expected to be let down because the last few expansion of Destiny 1 were let downs after a huge hype machine. So far, we (boy, girl, Barb, friend, and I) have not been let down.

Now that really is it until next week. Go out and have a great week.

“May I never be complete.
May I never be content.
May I never be perfect.”

-Chuck Palahniuk, Fight Club