I haven't updated this thang in a while. I am thinking I would like to try to update more regularly BUT the problem is that I generally don't have anything on my mind. No clever anecdotes. Nothing. Um. Yeah...
Fuck. I just need sometihng to fill the void, ya know?
Okay. National Novel Writing Month was a colossal failure. Not only did I have a hard time squeezing writing in around working, but I also broke the power cord to my laptop mid-November. So. Fuck that. Besides, my novel kinda sucked anyway. I have an idea for a new thing I want to work on but i'm keeping that under my hat at the moment.
For the time being, I am working on a script for a graphic novel with my friends. This should be fun. Although I am finding it increasingly difficult to get my thoughts organized enough to get it down. Aaaaaaaaand I'm updating my webcomic twice a week now. Woo hoo.
That link: http://outferasmoke.thecomicseries.com/comics/56/
wEEt.
Song in head: N/A
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Sunday, November 1, 2009
NaNo
Started my novel for this year. Woo woo woo. I wrote 28oo words today, which will have me ahead of things which is excellent seeing as I have to work tomorrow... so far, my main character (Amy) has... gone to work! Yay. That's pretty much it.
So. Um. yeah. whoo.
So. Um. yeah. whoo.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Failure, Webcomics, Music
My whole plan of writing a short story every day totally fell apart when I remembered that I actually had to do other shit. This bodes poorly for NaNo. Oh well. Anyway, I've been drawing a lot lately and that sorta cuts down on ym blogging et cetera. So, you know... whatever.
Today, my brother said to me, 'do you actually do anything other than sit around and read webcomics' which I actually had to think really hard about. After a moment of collecting data, I remembered that, yes, I do go to work on occasion and sometimes I draw and write and play music, but I do spend an awful lot of time reading webcomics. But I can't help it! There is some majorly good shit out there! And it's free ! Why the hell not? It's also better than watching a television show coz it isn't going to get cancelled. Woo hoo.
Anyways, I have been reading Questionable Content rather a lot. It is painfully hipstery but I kind of like it for some random reason. I guess I just like the characters or something, even though they do remind me of the fucking indie kids I know (fuckin indie kids. Wow, that is hostile. Disclaimer I actually like these people quite a lot, I just find their music irksome). But yeah, I decided to start reading from the beginning and I'm only up to, like, #600 now, so... yeah.
So yeah, speaking of music, I gave my brother a tutorial on pirating music and the first thing he goes and does is download Wide Open by Jason Aldean. As if I don't hear "Big Green Tractor" enough in the course of a day, now he doesn't even have to have internet access to play it. Joy oh bliss. I spend most of my evenings now listening to that or Johnny Cash's lesser known crap (I like me some Johnny Cash alright, it's just that there's a reason some of his stuff doesn't get remembered). I managed to segue into Nine Inch Nails via "Hurt" but it snapped right back into Johnny Cash again.
Whoo. I myslef just got the best of Apocalyptica. I've actually never listened to any of their songs but I figured hey, cello = good, metal = tolerable, what's not to like? So that's another thing to annoy the sibling with. It amuses me that he says he likes all kinds of music and yet pretty much whenever I play anything he tells me it's horrible - i.e., Pigface, Skinny Puppy, Patti Smith, Ministry, kidneythieves, The Ramones, The Dresden Dolls, cocorosie... never complains about Rasputina, go figure. And then he tells me that I only like one kind of music and that happens to be the kind he doesn't like.
Didn't mean to spend so long complaining about my brother's taste in music. Another funny anecdote though - I was sitting around listening to Skinny Puppy the other day and he walked in and said, "You haven't adjusted to country life very well, have you?". I laughed.
Fuck, this post is tedious. Jesus Christus.
Today, my brother said to me, 'do you actually do anything other than sit around and read webcomics' which I actually had to think really hard about. After a moment of collecting data, I remembered that, yes, I do go to work on occasion and sometimes I draw and write and play music, but I do spend an awful lot of time reading webcomics. But I can't help it! There is some majorly good shit out there! And it's free ! Why the hell not? It's also better than watching a television show coz it isn't going to get cancelled. Woo hoo.
Anyways, I have been reading Questionable Content rather a lot. It is painfully hipstery but I kind of like it for some random reason. I guess I just like the characters or something, even though they do remind me of the fucking indie kids I know (fuckin indie kids. Wow, that is hostile. Disclaimer I actually like these people quite a lot, I just find their music irksome). But yeah, I decided to start reading from the beginning and I'm only up to, like, #600 now, so... yeah.
So yeah, speaking of music, I gave my brother a tutorial on pirating music and the first thing he goes and does is download Wide Open by Jason Aldean. As if I don't hear "Big Green Tractor" enough in the course of a day, now he doesn't even have to have internet access to play it. Joy oh bliss. I spend most of my evenings now listening to that or Johnny Cash's lesser known crap (I like me some Johnny Cash alright, it's just that there's a reason some of his stuff doesn't get remembered). I managed to segue into Nine Inch Nails via "Hurt" but it snapped right back into Johnny Cash again.
Whoo. I myslef just got the best of Apocalyptica. I've actually never listened to any of their songs but I figured hey, cello = good, metal = tolerable, what's not to like? So that's another thing to annoy the sibling with. It amuses me that he says he likes all kinds of music and yet pretty much whenever I play anything he tells me it's horrible - i.e., Pigface, Skinny Puppy, Patti Smith, Ministry, kidneythieves, The Ramones, The Dresden Dolls, cocorosie... never complains about Rasputina, go figure. And then he tells me that I only like one kind of music and that happens to be the kind he doesn't like.
Didn't mean to spend so long complaining about my brother's taste in music. Another funny anecdote though - I was sitting around listening to Skinny Puppy the other day and he walked in and said, "You haven't adjusted to country life very well, have you?". I laughed.
Fuck, this post is tedious. Jesus Christus.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Short #2
Liese stood by the window and looked down. There was quite a crowd gathered below, eager to witness the horrible spectacle which had already begun to unfold.
Word had reached her that the fire escape had been rendered useless, and the realization that there was no way out now had caused many of the other women to freeze up and cease to function entirely.
Listening to the panicked screams of those around her and the sound of the fire rising from the floor below, she was momentarily lost in a trance. Two years ago she had still been living in Germany, entertaining dreams of how she would cross the ocean and live in New York with her brother. She was going to learn English, she was going to work her way up from her factory job to one in a store or cafe, she was going to marry a handsome American, things were going to be good.
Things had not worked out that well. She had arrived in New York and went to live with her brother. She had learned some English, but she had not moved up in the world. She still worked at the shirtwaist factory, she was still miserable. Gerhardt had died in early January and she was now completely alone.
She was going to die alone now. The smoke was filling her lungs and the heat of the fire pushed her closer to the open window. This was not what she had wanted. To die by fire, incinerated and forgotten. No one would identify her, her parents would never know what became of her for even if they did hear news of the fire, which was doubtful, they didn't know she worked there.
She wondered how much she would be aware of - would she feel the flames burning away her flesh or would she be killed by the smoke before the fire even reached her?
Her desire to live had never been so strong as it was now. She thought of all the things she would do if she were to somehow get out of this. First and foremost she would find herself a different job, a better job. She knew enough English now to get by. Then she would start working towards getting what she really wanted.
But what did she really want?
She wanted to go home. She wanted to have never left. She had gained nothing in the last two years. She didn't even know why she was here anymore. Trying to find a husband. Ha. That was bullshit, the sort of nonsense she had told her mother to try and console her.
She remembered the day she had left home. Her mother hid behind her hands and cried while her father explained why it was necessary for Liese to join her brother overseas. She was so young. She didn't know what she was in for. She didn't know anything. She still didn't. She wished she had listened to her mother for once rather than trying to do what was 'right' for the family.
"I'm sorry" she said, wishing that her mother could somehow hear her even though she couldn't even hear herself over the surrounding cacophany.
She stepped up to the window, and she jumped.
End.
Word had reached her that the fire escape had been rendered useless, and the realization that there was no way out now had caused many of the other women to freeze up and cease to function entirely.
Listening to the panicked screams of those around her and the sound of the fire rising from the floor below, she was momentarily lost in a trance. Two years ago she had still been living in Germany, entertaining dreams of how she would cross the ocean and live in New York with her brother. She was going to learn English, she was going to work her way up from her factory job to one in a store or cafe, she was going to marry a handsome American, things were going to be good.
Things had not worked out that well. She had arrived in New York and went to live with her brother. She had learned some English, but she had not moved up in the world. She still worked at the shirtwaist factory, she was still miserable. Gerhardt had died in early January and she was now completely alone.
She was going to die alone now. The smoke was filling her lungs and the heat of the fire pushed her closer to the open window. This was not what she had wanted. To die by fire, incinerated and forgotten. No one would identify her, her parents would never know what became of her for even if they did hear news of the fire, which was doubtful, they didn't know she worked there.
She wondered how much she would be aware of - would she feel the flames burning away her flesh or would she be killed by the smoke before the fire even reached her?
Her desire to live had never been so strong as it was now. She thought of all the things she would do if she were to somehow get out of this. First and foremost she would find herself a different job, a better job. She knew enough English now to get by. Then she would start working towards getting what she really wanted.
But what did she really want?
She wanted to go home. She wanted to have never left. She had gained nothing in the last two years. She didn't even know why she was here anymore. Trying to find a husband. Ha. That was bullshit, the sort of nonsense she had told her mother to try and console her.
She remembered the day she had left home. Her mother hid behind her hands and cried while her father explained why it was necessary for Liese to join her brother overseas. She was so young. She didn't know what she was in for. She didn't know anything. She still didn't. She wished she had listened to her mother for once rather than trying to do what was 'right' for the family.
"I'm sorry" she said, wishing that her mother could somehow hear her even though she couldn't even hear herself over the surrounding cacophany.
She stepped up to the window, and she jumped.
End.
Short #1
I'm going to try to write thirty one extremely short stories over the next month in preparation for NaNo. They are most likely all going to be terrible. Anywho, this is the first one (written on Thursday), slightly edited for clarity but still awful.
I saw Virginia for the last time on October 1st, 1846. It was a Thursday. I was greeted at the door by her mother who had been staying with her and her husband at their cottage in Fordham. She had a smile for me but I could see through her facade of joviality. Her eyes gave away her inward weariness. She let me in and we stood in the front room exchanging pleasantries while I kept eyes and ears out for Virginia's husband.
I had never cared much for the man, nor the way he treated my friend - he was a drunk and prone to fits of ill-temper. Every time I had visited them in Philedelphia he had been nothing but rude to me and spoke poorly of my own husband, all the while treating our Virginia as a servant. It was this behaviour which caused me to cease visiting them altogether.
But from all accounts I had heard from mutual friends, Virginia was dreadfully ill and that her her condition was rapidly worsening. The concensus among them was that she would not last the winter. Thus I endeavoured to pay this final visit.
Maria sent me upstairs to her bedroom, and I tried to be as quiet as possible lest I disturb her rest. She was however awake when I entered the room, lying in bed and gazing out the window at her garden.
She had always been a pale, ethereal creature, with nearly transluscent white skin, black hair and dark eyes, but now her cheeks were flushed, her eyes encircled with shadows and I thought that she had never looked so beautiful or strange. It was as though her proximity to death had brought out all of the life in her, and she seemed to transcend human beauty.
She looked upon me and smiled, indicating a chair in which I might sit. "I am sorry that I do not rise and greet you, but I fear I am very ill"
I felt sick with grief at the thought that she, my dearest childhood friend, would never recover from this illness and yet she remained so calm about her situation. I sat and took her hand in mine. "Don't speak of such things" I said, but she shook her head.
"It's true. I have been ill for a long time and I believe that soon it will be over" her smile faded now. "My poor husband. This has all been so hard on him. Sometimes I wish that I could somehow recover and live on for his sake, but alas, some things are not meant to last"
Some things are not meant to last.
Virginia died at the end of January, as predicted. I attended her funeral and spoke kind words to her husband, distraught as he was. I did not see him again, and he himself died only two years later.
Even though that was many years ago now and I can scarcely recall what she looked like - she was pale and she was lovely, but I cannot remember anything more than that - I still sometimes think of her words. 'Some things are not meant to last'. She is long gone, with so many of my friends and relatives, but those words remain. Those words haunt me.
End.
I saw Virginia for the last time on October 1st, 1846. It was a Thursday. I was greeted at the door by her mother who had been staying with her and her husband at their cottage in Fordham. She had a smile for me but I could see through her facade of joviality. Her eyes gave away her inward weariness. She let me in and we stood in the front room exchanging pleasantries while I kept eyes and ears out for Virginia's husband.
I had never cared much for the man, nor the way he treated my friend - he was a drunk and prone to fits of ill-temper. Every time I had visited them in Philedelphia he had been nothing but rude to me and spoke poorly of my own husband, all the while treating our Virginia as a servant. It was this behaviour which caused me to cease visiting them altogether.
But from all accounts I had heard from mutual friends, Virginia was dreadfully ill and that her her condition was rapidly worsening. The concensus among them was that she would not last the winter. Thus I endeavoured to pay this final visit.
Maria sent me upstairs to her bedroom, and I tried to be as quiet as possible lest I disturb her rest. She was however awake when I entered the room, lying in bed and gazing out the window at her garden.
She had always been a pale, ethereal creature, with nearly transluscent white skin, black hair and dark eyes, but now her cheeks were flushed, her eyes encircled with shadows and I thought that she had never looked so beautiful or strange. It was as though her proximity to death had brought out all of the life in her, and she seemed to transcend human beauty.
She looked upon me and smiled, indicating a chair in which I might sit. "I am sorry that I do not rise and greet you, but I fear I am very ill"
I felt sick with grief at the thought that she, my dearest childhood friend, would never recover from this illness and yet she remained so calm about her situation. I sat and took her hand in mine. "Don't speak of such things" I said, but she shook her head.
"It's true. I have been ill for a long time and I believe that soon it will be over" her smile faded now. "My poor husband. This has all been so hard on him. Sometimes I wish that I could somehow recover and live on for his sake, but alas, some things are not meant to last"
Some things are not meant to last.
Virginia died at the end of January, as predicted. I attended her funeral and spoke kind words to her husband, distraught as he was. I did not see him again, and he himself died only two years later.
Even though that was many years ago now and I can scarcely recall what she looked like - she was pale and she was lovely, but I cannot remember anything more than that - I still sometimes think of her words. 'Some things are not meant to last'. She is long gone, with so many of my friends and relatives, but those words remain. Those words haunt me.
End.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Nano Approaches
That's right. I'm going to participating in National Novel Writing Month again even though last year was a miserable failure (I'm pinning that on the fact that I moved in the middle of November and my computer crashed). The only thing to hold me back this year is the fact that I'm working, but fuck that, I'm going to do it anyway. Yeah.
My novel this year is going to be called The Parker Sisters and is about clones. Anyway, to warm myself up I'm going to try to write one flash fiction per day until November first. I have not done one yet today, but I've still got a good seven hours before I have to sleep. So. Yeah. Anyhoo, that's what's up in my world this week. Whee.
My novel this year is going to be called The Parker Sisters and is about clones. Anyway, to warm myself up I'm going to try to write one flash fiction per day until November first. I have not done one yet today, but I've still got a good seven hours before I have to sleep. So. Yeah. Anyhoo, that's what's up in my world this week. Whee.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
I now have a job which I start tomorrow. Thought I might impart that, seeing as this is sort of my... mental output of sorts. Not that I have particularly strong feelings on the subject. I am neither bursting with glee nor wallowing in despair. I do have to get up fucking early tomorrow which is gonna suck seeing as I am sort of a stay up til two kind of person.
In other news, my mother got a bathtub today. FUCK YEAH. Soon, I will be able to take baths once again. Fuck I hate showers, ya know? For some reason, I never feel quite clean after taking a shower. It's weird, I know, but true.
I got myself a webcomic this week, coz, y'know, I don't have enough stuff to do, but have not updated it yet. I have drawn a new comic for it but have yet to upload it. Maybe I will do that tomorrow when I get home. Anyway, link is here: http://outferasmoke.thecomicseries.com/ YAY! I will add it to the bloglist. Yeehaw.
Also, I;m sort of thing of taking up sewing. I kind of want to sew, just coz I want some new clothes and don't really want to buy them. I would like to goth my wardrobe up again. I've been feeling weird lately, I dunno, not right. I think first of all it's time to dye my hair again (I know, it's stupid and so played but I really feel... empowered or something when I dye my hair. It's the part of me I have the most control over, and I like to do shit to it. Unfortunately, it does mean I'll probably be bald by the time I'm fifty, but oh well. I'll deal with that when I get to it. I have this idea that when I feel comfortable in my life I'll be able to just leave my hair alone but until that point I will keep changing it whenever I feel off. Fuck, I can't believe how much I have been talking about my fucking hair), but also, a change of appearance is in order.
I don't think I'm up for wearing the make-up (too much hassle. I am lazy) but the garb, certainly. And also it's time I learned how to sew. There was some other thing I was thinking about but I forgot it... huh. God now I'm really confused.
In other news, my mother got a bathtub today. FUCK YEAH. Soon, I will be able to take baths once again. Fuck I hate showers, ya know? For some reason, I never feel quite clean after taking a shower. It's weird, I know, but true.
I got myself a webcomic this week, coz, y'know, I don't have enough stuff to do, but have not updated it yet. I have drawn a new comic for it but have yet to upload it. Maybe I will do that tomorrow when I get home. Anyway, link is here: http://outferasmoke.thecomicseries.com/ YAY! I will add it to the bloglist. Yeehaw.
Also, I;m sort of thing of taking up sewing. I kind of want to sew, just coz I want some new clothes and don't really want to buy them. I would like to goth my wardrobe up again. I've been feeling weird lately, I dunno, not right. I think first of all it's time to dye my hair again (I know, it's stupid and so played but I really feel... empowered or something when I dye my hair. It's the part of me I have the most control over, and I like to do shit to it. Unfortunately, it does mean I'll probably be bald by the time I'm fifty, but oh well. I'll deal with that when I get to it. I have this idea that when I feel comfortable in my life I'll be able to just leave my hair alone but until that point I will keep changing it whenever I feel off. Fuck, I can't believe how much I have been talking about my fucking hair), but also, a change of appearance is in order.
I don't think I'm up for wearing the make-up (too much hassle. I am lazy) but the garb, certainly. And also it's time I learned how to sew. There was some other thing I was thinking about but I forgot it... huh. God now I'm really confused.
Monday, September 7, 2009
Nothing Much
Nothing much to impart it's just that I know that if I stop posting then, you know, I'll stop posting altogether. Um. I've been doing stuff, just nothing I really want to write about on here. I haven't really gotten anything done in a little while so I dunno, nothing to report there. Right now I am feeling kind of dizzy. I think maybe I should have lunch. Oh yeah, I have to feed my dog too. I will do that now. Bluh.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Killin Time
Yeah, I'm just killin time alright. I really don't have anything to write about at the moment, as far as I recall. I should start writing stuff down when it happens instead of planning to remember it until sunday. Ech. Ah well. I've been working on covers for my CDs mostly. Other than that? Not too much. I rode a horse for the first time in a long time today, so my ass is in pain. It was fucking fun though.
Anyway, I'm going to watch Hostage with Bruce Willis in a bit, once it loads some more (streaming it from somewheres, I'm not sure if this is legal or not but I figure the less I know the better, right?). Probably going to be the last film in my Bruce Willis spree (I don't think I'll watch The Sixth Sense. I dunno, the more movies M. Night Shyamalan makes, the less I like that particular one so I think I'll leave it alone. I might watch The Colour of Night or whatever the fuck that's called. I haven't seen it and I've heard it's kinda shitty and ya know shitty is my middle name so...)
Also, I'm re-writing the orchard again from scratch. Why? I have no fucking idea. It just wasn't working out as planned so I'm going to do a shorter version. More condensed. It might work. I dunno.
So, yeah, that's all I can really think of to talk about. There are no amusing anecdotes from my life I wish to impart. Yup. Bye.
Anyway, I'm going to watch Hostage with Bruce Willis in a bit, once it loads some more (streaming it from somewheres, I'm not sure if this is legal or not but I figure the less I know the better, right?). Probably going to be the last film in my Bruce Willis spree (I don't think I'll watch The Sixth Sense. I dunno, the more movies M. Night Shyamalan makes, the less I like that particular one so I think I'll leave it alone. I might watch The Colour of Night or whatever the fuck that's called. I haven't seen it and I've heard it's kinda shitty and ya know shitty is my middle name so...)
Also, I'm re-writing the orchard again from scratch. Why? I have no fucking idea. It just wasn't working out as planned so I'm going to do a shorter version. More condensed. It might work. I dunno.
So, yeah, that's all I can really think of to talk about. There are no amusing anecdotes from my life I wish to impart. Yup. Bye.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
oh yeah
Forgot to mention, Sketchy Sketch went out and all was good. Booyah. Getting prepped for next issue.
Artwork
Some artwork I've been working on for my CDs. I decided to do twenty unique covers which in retrospect was really stupid, but you know. I decided to copy drawings out of my sketchbook rather than try to come up with twenty new drawings in one sitting and... it's kinda weird. I mean, when I'm drawing in my sketchbook I will do maybe one, two drawings at a time, which reflect whatever mood I'm in or what I'm thinking about. But drawing twenty of my old drawings in succession is rather creepy. I'm really starting to freak myself out (I've only done the pencil sketches on most of them so I get to draw them AGAIN! Yay!). I mean... I drew a bondage hotdog. Like... whatt the hell is that? Sure, a bondage hotdog by itself is one thing, but in combination with bleeding dicks, guys with their organs hanging out and so many armless prostitutes... I'm starting to realize that I may be slightly strange. Jesus. But enough of that. To the pictures...

One of the skins, and my absolute favourite thing that I have ever drawn. I dunno why, but I think it looks cool. I'm thinking I might start just drawing organ diagrams from now on. What's really sad about it though is that I have to take the centre out to put it on a CD so I'll lose the heart and most of the left lung and the liver and stomach. Leaving not that much. Mostly just the intestine. Which doesn't look that good. I think I'll scan it and save it for future use.

This is the only finished case and is a picture of a man still attached to his mother via the umbilical cord. Lovely. It looks really cheap to me for some reason, I guess because everything is white. But the marker bleeds! I can't fill in the empty spaces. Anyway, the back is already in there and I don't want to take it out again. So yeah. I haven't finished the skin for this CD though so it's not really ready.
Click here to see more about my music and listen to some sample tracks. Woo hoo.
One of the skins, and my absolute favourite thing that I have ever drawn. I dunno why, but I think it looks cool. I'm thinking I might start just drawing organ diagrams from now on. What's really sad about it though is that I have to take the centre out to put it on a CD so I'll lose the heart and most of the left lung and the liver and stomach. Leaving not that much. Mostly just the intestine. Which doesn't look that good. I think I'll scan it and save it for future use.
This is the only finished case and is a picture of a man still attached to his mother via the umbilical cord. Lovely. It looks really cheap to me for some reason, I guess because everything is white. But the marker bleeds! I can't fill in the empty spaces. Anyway, the back is already in there and I don't want to take it out again. So yeah. I haven't finished the skin for this CD though so it's not really ready.
Click here to see more about my music and listen to some sample tracks. Woo hoo.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Sketchy Sketch and the Weather
Today, my goal is basically to assemble sketchy sketch, even if I die trying. Actually, it's pretty much all put together, I just have to scan one comic and finish the intro. The intro shouldn't be hard, as I already basically know what I'm going to say in it. The comic... well I don't know how to use the scanner so that will be fun. Forunately, my mother and brother do so it'll all be just fine and dandy.
And then... to send. Yee haw. I think I baked myself yesterday, in other news. It is ridiculoously hot. Cruelly so. 30 degrees Celsius. Christ.
I can honestly say that I despise the heat. I much prefer winter. I know, you always hate the season you're in, but the winter, man, you have to work to live. Like, you have to really physically stay warm, especially in New Brunswick coz we don't have heating here.
In summer, you just lie around coz it's too hot to do anything, but you can think about the fact thAT you're not doing anything, and it gets extremely infuriating. And my dog is miserable. God damn.
And then... to send. Yee haw. I think I baked myself yesterday, in other news. It is ridiculoously hot. Cruelly so. 30 degrees Celsius. Christ.
I can honestly say that I despise the heat. I much prefer winter. I know, you always hate the season you're in, but the winter, man, you have to work to live. Like, you have to really physically stay warm, especially in New Brunswick coz we don't have heating here.
In summer, you just lie around coz it's too hot to do anything, but you can think about the fact thAT you're not doing anything, and it gets extremely infuriating. And my dog is miserable. God damn.
Monday, August 10, 2009
I had some friends up from my former homeland this weekend. It was nice. I ended up getting drunk Saturday night despite my resolution to stop drinking. It just felt like the right time to have a beer or five. I have no regrets. I ended up staying up until five that morning shooting the shit with my friend, codename... uh... Shorts (on account of the fact that she wore plaid, flannel, pyjama shorts practically the whole time she was here). So I sobered up before I went to sleep which was nice. I hate falling asleep drunk.
Anyway. I'm thinking of ditching The Orchard for at least a little while. It's just lagging so much. I think I just need to leave it for a little while, let it mellow, and then attack it from a different side. So yeah, I'll just let it sit. I have so many other ideas. First of all, I've been working on the foundations for a novella about... alternate dimensions or something. I've just been working out the differences between the different worlds and so on. It might be interesting but it will take a lot of research and stuff.
Also, I'm thinking of writing a short about some kind of plague. I don't want to put too many details about that coz I haven't worked them out yet.
AND I found a stash of my old stuff on my mom's computer and was just reading through some of it. A lot of it was pretty tedious but some of it may be useful, for example, I found this really boring story I wrote for some reason which I think I might be able to work into something interesting.
The other thing I found was my script frenzy attempt from I guess '08. At the time I thought it was awful, but reading back it's actually not too bad. It's about satanists and some of the dialogue is actually pretty amusing (if I may say so). I laughed. It's got a lot of really unnecessary stuff just in there to up the ol' word count but I can take that out. Also, the plot is really convoluted, but I can fix that too. The characters are appealing to me. They're fairly two dimensional, but at least they are consistant. My characters are typically insane and tend to go from being really calm to complete demented to really meek and jumpy. I dunno. It;s weird.
I guess people aren't really all that consistant. The people I know anyway. Although I'm convinced that most of the people I know are pretty much insane anyway. Ah well. So yeah, that's what I been doin.
Anyway. I'm thinking of ditching The Orchard for at least a little while. It's just lagging so much. I think I just need to leave it for a little while, let it mellow, and then attack it from a different side. So yeah, I'll just let it sit. I have so many other ideas. First of all, I've been working on the foundations for a novella about... alternate dimensions or something. I've just been working out the differences between the different worlds and so on. It might be interesting but it will take a lot of research and stuff.
Also, I'm thinking of writing a short about some kind of plague. I don't want to put too many details about that coz I haven't worked them out yet.
AND I found a stash of my old stuff on my mom's computer and was just reading through some of it. A lot of it was pretty tedious but some of it may be useful, for example, I found this really boring story I wrote for some reason which I think I might be able to work into something interesting.
The other thing I found was my script frenzy attempt from I guess '08. At the time I thought it was awful, but reading back it's actually not too bad. It's about satanists and some of the dialogue is actually pretty amusing (if I may say so). I laughed. It's got a lot of really unnecessary stuff just in there to up the ol' word count but I can take that out. Also, the plot is really convoluted, but I can fix that too. The characters are appealing to me. They're fairly two dimensional, but at least they are consistant. My characters are typically insane and tend to go from being really calm to complete demented to really meek and jumpy. I dunno. It;s weird.
I guess people aren't really all that consistant. The people I know anyway. Although I'm convinced that most of the people I know are pretty much insane anyway. Ah well. So yeah, that's what I been doin.
Friday, August 7, 2009
Title Change
Thought I'd change the title from 'I Love Life: Yes I Do' (which is a lie anyway. I only like life) to 'A Glimpse of Happiness in a Sea of Horror' which is a much more appropriate description of my existance.
That title comes from something my friend said many moons ago. Back in the days before I wore colours (I miss those days. I hate colours. What the hell happened?) I used to have this one pink sock which I would wear sometimes when I couldn't find two black ones. My friends found this sock particularly amusing because, apparently, seeing someone dressed all in black except for one cheery pink sock is funny (actually, it is). One day we were sitting around in some kitchen or something discussing The Sock because I guess we didn't have anything better to do and my friend, whom we will call... um... I dunno, described it as "A glimpse of happiness.... in a sea of horror"
So that's the origin of my new title. Named after a sock. If I still had the sock I would take a picture of it and upload it to here but I think I threw it away. It was actually pretty ratty. I'd had it for quite a while and I'm pretty sure there was only one. It was faded out and had holes in the toes (although, all of my socks have holes in the toes). The elastic in the ankle had worn out as well, I believe, so it always had this scrunched up eighties look.
Named after a not-very-nice sock, no less. Wow. I love life. Wait, no.
That title comes from something my friend said many moons ago. Back in the days before I wore colours (I miss those days. I hate colours. What the hell happened?) I used to have this one pink sock which I would wear sometimes when I couldn't find two black ones. My friends found this sock particularly amusing because, apparently, seeing someone dressed all in black except for one cheery pink sock is funny (actually, it is). One day we were sitting around in some kitchen or something discussing The Sock because I guess we didn't have anything better to do and my friend, whom we will call... um... I dunno, described it as "A glimpse of happiness.... in a sea of horror"
So that's the origin of my new title. Named after a sock. If I still had the sock I would take a picture of it and upload it to here but I think I threw it away. It was actually pretty ratty. I'd had it for quite a while and I'm pretty sure there was only one. It was faded out and had holes in the toes (although, all of my socks have holes in the toes). The elastic in the ankle had worn out as well, I believe, so it always had this scrunched up eighties look.
Named after a not-very-nice sock, no less. Wow. I love life. Wait, no.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Camera
Okay, I think I'm finally starting to run out of steam. Posting obsessively takes it out of me, ya know? Anyway, today's news is that my brother is letting me use his old camera. He recently upgraded from a D40 to a D200 (or something like that) so I get to play with the old one. Of course, that also means I will probably generally be taking my own photos, which means that a) I will be able to get photos onto my various blogs faster and b) shitty photo time. Honestly, I take crap photos. Always have. I'm one of those people.
But anyway. Yeah. Also, I'm going to start a countdown of ninety of my favourite horror flicks on my other blog which can be found here (if you're too lazy to click the link on my sidebar). That will commence tomorrow. That will be fun and not all that time consuming because I started writing reviews ages ago. I am amazing.
Also, there are now two weeks til the deadline for Sketchy Sketch, the e-zine I is starting up. So, just as a reminder to anyone who is reading this shite (which is probably no one), August 15th is the deadline, send submissions or queries to sketchysketchzine@gmail.com. If you would like to subscribe, send a message reading 'Klaatu Barada ur mom' to the above e-mail address.
Woo hoo.
OH YEAH, I also saw When the Bus Comes on thursday. It was awesome, and I really dug how it turned out. It was cool. The other plays were also bitchin, having a generally humourous tone. It was very awesome. I had a good time.
So I'm going to see if I have another play in me. I don't know if I do or not. I could try writing my quarantine script although that is pretty damn morbid. I dunno. We'll see. I'll just keep working on the short stories and see how that goes.
But anyway. Yeah. Also, I'm going to start a countdown of ninety of my favourite horror flicks on my other blog which can be found here (if you're too lazy to click the link on my sidebar). That will commence tomorrow. That will be fun and not all that time consuming because I started writing reviews ages ago. I am amazing.
Also, there are now two weeks til the deadline for Sketchy Sketch, the e-zine I is starting up. So, just as a reminder to anyone who is reading this shite (which is probably no one), August 15th is the deadline, send submissions or queries to sketchysketchzine@gmail.com. If you would like to subscribe, send a message reading 'Klaatu Barada ur mom' to the above e-mail address.
Woo hoo.
OH YEAH, I also saw When the Bus Comes on thursday. It was awesome, and I really dug how it turned out. It was cool. The other plays were also bitchin, having a generally humourous tone. It was very awesome. I had a good time.
So I'm going to see if I have another play in me. I don't know if I do or not. I could try writing my quarantine script although that is pretty damn morbid. I dunno. We'll see. I'll just keep working on the short stories and see how that goes.
Labels:
life,
sketchy sketch,
when the bus comes,
writing
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Something Weird
This is quicly becoming my favourite blog to post in because I can post whatever the fuck I want. There is no self-imposed theme, or guidelines or structure. It's total fucking insanity. So here is some more insanity, just for you.

You know, I'm actually not on drugs? I just have a lot of time on my hands.

You know, I'm actually not on drugs? I just have a lot of time on my hands.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
How To Write a Short Story
I wrote this when I was bored. I sort of got the inspiration from an article by Roman Dirge called 'How I Draw' (which can be found here).
1. FIND A SECLUDED SPOT WHERE NOBODY CAN FIND YOU
I like to write in my living room in a slightly uncomfortable chair when nobody is home. Writing in bed is a bad idea as falling asleep becomes a problem. Some people like to write outside. I do not as I hate the outdoors and everything in it.
2. GATHER WRITING MATERIALS
I use two notebooks, a box of pens and a computer. The computer is for research. The first notebook is for the actual body of writing. The second notebook is for writing down the information harvested from the internet. Having a box of pens is just nice because then you feel like you have all the pens.
3. WRITE SOME STUFF
Just keep making words until it starts to look like a sentence. Feel free to use lots of weird punctuation. Ex: "look out?" cried molly; dave - the captain/cook - meanwhile, dove for cover^
4. LOOK SHIT UP
I use wikipedia.
5. CHECK E-MAIL
While I'm on the internet, I might as well check my hotmail, gmail, yahoo, facebook, myspace, blogs, forums, facebook again, hit random article on wikipedia a few times, google stuff, go on facebook, IM my peeps and play a few rounds of Tetris.
6. LATER
By now, a couple of hours have passed and I feel like I have accomplished something. I go sit in bed and cry.
7. SLEEP
Eventually, I fall asleep and dream that I am a man who has just given birth to triplets.
8. WAKE UP
Cry some more. I eat my stash of chocolate and then cry because I am out of chocolate.
9. SIT IN BED
I usually like to lie in bed and stare at the ceiling until around two AM. Then, my brain kicks in and I am ready for action.
1O. WRITE A SHORT STORY
Yeah, then I pretty much just write the fucker.
1. FIND A SECLUDED SPOT WHERE NOBODY CAN FIND YOU
I like to write in my living room in a slightly uncomfortable chair when nobody is home. Writing in bed is a bad idea as falling asleep becomes a problem. Some people like to write outside. I do not as I hate the outdoors and everything in it.
2. GATHER WRITING MATERIALS
I use two notebooks, a box of pens and a computer. The computer is for research. The first notebook is for the actual body of writing. The second notebook is for writing down the information harvested from the internet. Having a box of pens is just nice because then you feel like you have all the pens.
3. WRITE SOME STUFF
Just keep making words until it starts to look like a sentence. Feel free to use lots of weird punctuation. Ex: "look out?" cried molly; dave - the captain/cook - meanwhile, dove for cover^
4. LOOK SHIT UP
I use wikipedia.
5. CHECK E-MAIL
While I'm on the internet, I might as well check my hotmail, gmail, yahoo, facebook, myspace, blogs, forums, facebook again, hit random article on wikipedia a few times, google stuff, go on facebook, IM my peeps and play a few rounds of Tetris.
6. LATER
By now, a couple of hours have passed and I feel like I have accomplished something. I go sit in bed and cry.
7. SLEEP
Eventually, I fall asleep and dream that I am a man who has just given birth to triplets.
8. WAKE UP
Cry some more. I eat my stash of chocolate and then cry because I am out of chocolate.
9. SIT IN BED
I usually like to lie in bed and stare at the ceiling until around two AM. Then, my brain kicks in and I am ready for action.
1O. WRITE A SHORT STORY
Yeah, then I pretty much just write the fucker.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
When the Bus Comes etc
kay, so the short play I wrote (When the Bus Comes) is starting tomorrow. It's playing with the four other winners in its category, at Barracks Square in Fredericton, every day at noon from tomorrow to Friday.
Been thinking a bit about plays and so on and thought I might attempt a longer piece at some point in the future. I had an idea for a lengthier play - it was going to be called Quarantine and be about a small group of people quarantined in their apartment due to the outbreak of an extremely contagious plague. I came up with this shortly before the movie Quarantine hit theatres.
Ironically, the idea for the play itself was lifted from "Pleasureland" by Kate Atkinson (from Not the End of the World which is a pretty sick book. I recommend). Obviously I changed it a lot but I got the inspiration from that originally. But fuck, maybe I'll just do it anyway. The thing I'm writing now is basically just a riff on "The Yellow Wallpaper" - in "Yellow Wallpaper" a sickly woman and her husband go out to stay in the country for a while, she sees women lurking in the wallpaper, and goes crazy; in my story, a sickly man and his girlfriend go out to stay in the country for a while, he sees men lurking in the orchard, and goes crazy. It's essentially the same story but with the genders reversed.
Honestly I'm not sure why I chose to reverse the genders. I just felt like writing from a male perspective I guess. I often do.
Anyway. What is the point of this post? To say that I am a hack. Who is reading this post? Likely no one. It will spring forth into the cold void of the internet and lie there until... okay. This is getting weird.
Here's a sample of what I wrote yesterday (I know I shouldn't post my work on the internet but my shit isn't really worth stealing. However, if this should ever come up as a court thing, my name is Andrea Gigeroff and I transcribed this at 3.21 PM, July 26th, 2009):
"Rob was out on the porch again when Myra came back. He had gone back out as soon as the sun came up. Somehow the orchard was not quite as disturbing in daylight. Besides, there wasn't much to see after dark and what good was that?
"In the daylight, he saw so much. He saw birds swerve to avoid flying over the trees. He saw the leaves moving when the wind had stopped. He saw the same shadowy man creeping around behind the first row of trees*. And then he saw more of them. They were milling around back there, walking back and forth, crossing one another, occasionally stopping to peer out at him.
"It was a ripple of movement, a shudder. Disgusting. It made his skin crawl. There was something vaguely insect-like in their motions, the way they crept around. Bulbous bodies on spidly legs. He was sure they had many eyes.
"It made him sick to watch them but he knew that if he stopped watching, they would come forth, a wave of them, crawling over one another, rushing towards him, overtaking him, consuming him, the very second he let his guard down. He had to blink one eye at a time. It took a great deal of concentration, keeping his eyes open and focused, his brain in the centre of consciousness"
So a little bit of weirdness for today, from me to you. I can't even remember what the crap this post was supposed to be about. Oh yeah, When the Bus Comes. Uhm. I hope I'll get to see it tomorrow but the chances of that are not especially good. I will just have to work something out. Also, my dad's play is showing tomorrow night. I will probably not get to see that either which kind of sucks. I just keep thinking that if I did what I said I was going to do when I said I was going to do it, I would have a driver's license by now instead of just this lousy learner's permit. Suck.
* "There are things in that paper that nobody knows but me, or ever will. Behind that outside pattern the dim shapes get clearer every day. It is always the same shape, only very numerous. And it is like a woman stooping down and creeping around behind that pattern. I don't like it a bit" -- The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Gilman
Been thinking a bit about plays and so on and thought I might attempt a longer piece at some point in the future. I had an idea for a lengthier play - it was going to be called Quarantine and be about a small group of people quarantined in their apartment due to the outbreak of an extremely contagious plague. I came up with this shortly before the movie Quarantine hit theatres.
Ironically, the idea for the play itself was lifted from "Pleasureland" by Kate Atkinson (from Not the End of the World which is a pretty sick book. I recommend). Obviously I changed it a lot but I got the inspiration from that originally. But fuck, maybe I'll just do it anyway. The thing I'm writing now is basically just a riff on "The Yellow Wallpaper" - in "Yellow Wallpaper" a sickly woman and her husband go out to stay in the country for a while, she sees women lurking in the wallpaper, and goes crazy; in my story, a sickly man and his girlfriend go out to stay in the country for a while, he sees men lurking in the orchard, and goes crazy. It's essentially the same story but with the genders reversed.
Honestly I'm not sure why I chose to reverse the genders. I just felt like writing from a male perspective I guess. I often do.
Anyway. What is the point of this post? To say that I am a hack. Who is reading this post? Likely no one. It will spring forth into the cold void of the internet and lie there until... okay. This is getting weird.
Here's a sample of what I wrote yesterday (I know I shouldn't post my work on the internet but my shit isn't really worth stealing. However, if this should ever come up as a court thing, my name is Andrea Gigeroff and I transcribed this at 3.21 PM, July 26th, 2009):
"Rob was out on the porch again when Myra came back. He had gone back out as soon as the sun came up. Somehow the orchard was not quite as disturbing in daylight. Besides, there wasn't much to see after dark and what good was that?
"In the daylight, he saw so much. He saw birds swerve to avoid flying over the trees. He saw the leaves moving when the wind had stopped. He saw the same shadowy man creeping around behind the first row of trees*. And then he saw more of them. They were milling around back there, walking back and forth, crossing one another, occasionally stopping to peer out at him.
"It was a ripple of movement, a shudder. Disgusting. It made his skin crawl. There was something vaguely insect-like in their motions, the way they crept around. Bulbous bodies on spidly legs. He was sure they had many eyes.
"It made him sick to watch them but he knew that if he stopped watching, they would come forth, a wave of them, crawling over one another, rushing towards him, overtaking him, consuming him, the very second he let his guard down. He had to blink one eye at a time. It took a great deal of concentration, keeping his eyes open and focused, his brain in the centre of consciousness"
So a little bit of weirdness for today, from me to you. I can't even remember what the crap this post was supposed to be about. Oh yeah, When the Bus Comes. Uhm. I hope I'll get to see it tomorrow but the chances of that are not especially good. I will just have to work something out. Also, my dad's play is showing tomorrow night. I will probably not get to see that either which kind of sucks. I just keep thinking that if I did what I said I was going to do when I said I was going to do it, I would have a driver's license by now instead of just this lousy learner's permit. Suck.
* "There are things in that paper that nobody knows but me, or ever will. Behind that outside pattern the dim shapes get clearer every day. It is always the same shape, only very numerous. And it is like a woman stooping down and creeping around behind that pattern. I don't like it a bit" -- The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Gilman
Labels:
life,
the orchard,
when the bus comes,
writing
Saturday, July 25, 2009
For lack of anything better to post...
Monday, July 20, 2009
Sketchy Sketch
Okay, it's about time I started plugging this e-zine I've been working on (not that I think anybody is really reading this blog, but... well... if there are any people who don't actually know me in real life (Z? Are you there?)). I forgot about it while I was posting earlier and thought I should mention it now before I forget again. I am dumb sometimes. Scratch that, I am dumb most of the time. I have vaguely flickers of semi-sentience every now and then but the rest of the time, I'm not even really aware of my surroundings let alone able to process abstract concepts.
So, here's the official promo I have been kicking around the internet:
"I am going to be starting an e-mail based art zine called ‘Sketchy Sketch’ and am looking for submissions. I am accepting submissions in the form of anything, fiction, non-fiction, poems, drawings, comics, weird photographs, reviews of anything, interviews with yourself and/or others, blog entries, promotional whatnot, dating ads, an itemized list of what’s in your pocket, whatever. If I can open it on my computer, I’ll put it in. Same goes for content. If you send it, I’ll run it no matter how tasteless it is. Except for maybe racist or homophobic propaganda.
Send submissions to sketchysketchzine@gmail.com, along with a short author bio (if you don’t include one, I’ll make one up). Deadline is August 15th. If you would like a copy (they are free), send an message reading ‘Klaatu Barada ur Mom’ to the above e-mail address and I’ll put you on the mailing list. Go-go gadget awesome."
So there we go. Wowness for the wow.
So, here's the official promo I have been kicking around the internet:
"I am going to be starting an e-mail based art zine called ‘Sketchy Sketch’ and am looking for submissions. I am accepting submissions in the form of anything, fiction, non-fiction, poems, drawings, comics, weird photographs, reviews of anything, interviews with yourself and/or others, blog entries, promotional whatnot, dating ads, an itemized list of what’s in your pocket, whatever. If I can open it on my computer, I’ll put it in. Same goes for content. If you send it, I’ll run it no matter how tasteless it is. Except for maybe racist or homophobic propaganda.
Send submissions to sketchysketchzine@gmail.com, along with a short author bio (if you don’t include one, I’ll make one up). Deadline is August 15th. If you would like a copy (they are free), send an message reading ‘Klaatu Barada ur Mom’ to the above e-mail address and I’ll put you on the mailing list. Go-go gadget awesome."
So there we go. Wowness for the wow.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
What I Am Currently Working On
Okay, so, I'm trying to write but am stuck at the moment coz the only thing I can think of is where in the name of fucking jesus fuck my USB cord is. I lost it some time ago, made a pathetic attempt to find the thing, and then gave up, figuring hey, what the fuck, I don't really use my camera that much anyway.
But now I really need my camera, you know, to take photos of shit, and I can't for the life of me think of where the fucking piece of fucking shit could be. I dunno, it feel into a portal in the fabric of the universe or something.
So, while I'm waiting for my brain to re-align itself into a state condusive for writing things other than strings of profanity, I figured I'd just post on what I'm currently working on, creatively speaking.
Thing Number 1: A novella I'm tentatively calling 'The Orchard'. It started out as a short story and has sort of morphed into something longer and more boring. It's about a small town in N.S. with this haunted apple orchard. Think 'Children of the Corn' but set in Canada.
Anyway, I've actually only written, like, twenty pages or so and I'm already starting to wonder when the fuck it's going to be over. This is never a good sign, however, since it is really typical of me I've taken to disreagrding it as such.
Thing Number 2: Recently, I started up drawing comics again. I used to draw them ages ago when I was a wee bairn, but things got away from me pretty quick. You know how at that age you have this huge ideas - I wanted to write, like, 100-page graphic novels and lengthy, epic serieses - but no skill whatsoever? It's the most frustrating thing in the world.
I tried to remedy this (oh how I tried) by purchasing fancy equipment. I got a whole bunch of expensive art markers (I still buy markers for drawing even though I don't draw with markers) in several shades of gray and special marker paper, all at the expense of my mother (of course, she suggested it, so...). But it didn't help so eventually the frustration overcame me and I gave up, going back to just drawing geometric shapes with crayon.
Now (several art classes later), things have gone the other way. My skills have improved to the point where I can actually draw the same characters more than once, but my ideas have gotten a hell of a lot smaller. I don't really want to work on anything longer than about three pages.
Interestingly, things improved a whole lot when I went back to drawing with pen instead of trying to use marker or pencil (I do use both of these from time to time, but only to supplement the pen).
So anyway, I've been drawing a bunch of little comics I call 'Out Fer a Smoke' about these people (Lee and Joss) standing around outside their house smoking and talking about what happened to them earlier in the day. It is easy and fun to draw (mainly because both characters have lots of piercings and such, which I enjoy drawing).
So much fun. Other than that, I'm not up to a whole lot, other than looking for my damn USB cord and cursing the sticky comma on this keyboard (the comma is one of my favourite characters of punctuation and I tend to use it a lot, making its stickiness extremely infuriating). Best I return to work. Woo hoo hoo.
But now I really need my camera, you know, to take photos of shit, and I can't for the life of me think of where the fucking piece of fucking shit could be. I dunno, it feel into a portal in the fabric of the universe or something.
So, while I'm waiting for my brain to re-align itself into a state condusive for writing things other than strings of profanity, I figured I'd just post on what I'm currently working on, creatively speaking.
Thing Number 1: A novella I'm tentatively calling 'The Orchard'. It started out as a short story and has sort of morphed into something longer and more boring. It's about a small town in N.S. with this haunted apple orchard. Think 'Children of the Corn' but set in Canada.
Anyway, I've actually only written, like, twenty pages or so and I'm already starting to wonder when the fuck it's going to be over. This is never a good sign, however, since it is really typical of me I've taken to disreagrding it as such.
Thing Number 2: Recently, I started up drawing comics again. I used to draw them ages ago when I was a wee bairn, but things got away from me pretty quick. You know how at that age you have this huge ideas - I wanted to write, like, 100-page graphic novels and lengthy, epic serieses - but no skill whatsoever? It's the most frustrating thing in the world.
I tried to remedy this (oh how I tried) by purchasing fancy equipment. I got a whole bunch of expensive art markers (I still buy markers for drawing even though I don't draw with markers) in several shades of gray and special marker paper, all at the expense of my mother (of course, she suggested it, so...). But it didn't help so eventually the frustration overcame me and I gave up, going back to just drawing geometric shapes with crayon.
Now (several art classes later), things have gone the other way. My skills have improved to the point where I can actually draw the same characters more than once, but my ideas have gotten a hell of a lot smaller. I don't really want to work on anything longer than about three pages.
Interestingly, things improved a whole lot when I went back to drawing with pen instead of trying to use marker or pencil (I do use both of these from time to time, but only to supplement the pen).
So anyway, I've been drawing a bunch of little comics I call 'Out Fer a Smoke' about these people (Lee and Joss) standing around outside their house smoking and talking about what happened to them earlier in the day. It is easy and fun to draw (mainly because both characters have lots of piercings and such, which I enjoy drawing).
So much fun. Other than that, I'm not up to a whole lot, other than looking for my damn USB cord and cursing the sticky comma on this keyboard (the comma is one of my favourite characters of punctuation and I tend to use it a lot, making its stickiness extremely infuriating). Best I return to work. Woo hoo hoo.
Labels:
drawing,
out fer a smoke,
the orchard,
writing
Hi, my name is...
Generic introductory post time. First off, I have four other blogs which I post to semi-regularly - Blog of Horror (movie reviews), Shitty Knits (knitting), This Stuff Will Kill You (food) and The Wendells (music of my own design).
And this blog will be for everything else.
I got it because I'm not totally satisfied with the Blog of Horror and thought I might be able to import it onto Blogger but I haven't figured that out so whatever. Fuck it. But I figured hey, why not start another blog, because I'm all about multitasking.
So, yeah, this will be writings mostly, maybe some art when I feel like it, and pointless observations on the banality of my life. Oh boy!
Anyway, I guess this is as long as I really want it to be. I'll put some information on the 'about' site at some point to give you, the reader (should you actually exist) some kind of insight as to who the fuck I am.
Go now and be at peace
And this blog will be for everything else.
I got it because I'm not totally satisfied with the Blog of Horror and thought I might be able to import it onto Blogger but I haven't figured that out so whatever. Fuck it. But I figured hey, why not start another blog, because I'm all about multitasking.
So, yeah, this will be writings mostly, maybe some art when I feel like it, and pointless observations on the banality of my life. Oh boy!
Anyway, I guess this is as long as I really want it to be. I'll put some information on the 'about' site at some point to give you, the reader (should you actually exist) some kind of insight as to who the fuck I am.
Go now and be at peace
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