Artistic Merit

Don't forget to visit his Facebook for the finished portrait and please post this in your own journals, for l'il ole me. Pretty pleeze. I'll love you forever. KTHX. ::mind whammy::

Long Day

Driven by 'Daylight' by Matt and Kim, I've chewed the fat most all day with a variety of people. Got the new Blog up everywhere, with the help of gunslingaaahhh. I love this shit. LOVE. IT. It's like a revolution. Anyway, I now have 2500 words to write tomorrow, so I'm swearing off 'Daylight' because I just can't write Vampirically when t hat song is on. I want to flail about like a rag doll on a string and think happy thoughts, which is like the anti-Tin. So tomorrow, it's Shriekback, through and through. Cadmus has some issues with which to deal. And I still need to get those memories transferred from Kelat to Orphaeus. Oh, and dandyxrandy said she'd have The Interview (working title), draft 2.0/1 ready probably tomorrow, so I guess I'll be working on that as well. Aaaaand, I still have to write that review for "Nowhere, Nothing, Ever" for Barry. He needs incentive and, by the Mighties, I'm gonna give it to him if I can. Gods, it's a wonder I have any flesh on my fingers, I type so much.

I'm off to go find Smidgen and Shmoop and put them out for the night, then I'm going to bed. John Doe in all his Se7enish glory is my bedmate this good eve.

Can't Sleep, the Clown Will Eat Me

I tried, but I can't. At least I have free HBO. Watching David Lynch's Dune. It's hokey and weird, but there are so many perfect scenes in it, involving Brad Dourif in particular. "It is by will alone I set my mind in motion. It is by the juice of Sapho that thoughts acquire speed, the lips acquire stains, the stains become a warning. It is by will alone I set my mind in motion." ::sip:: Even though the Sci-Fi production of Dune was more true to the book, I still prefer David Lynch's interpretation. It's fun on so many levels and David Lynch is just plain weird, which is a good thing. Gods, I miss Twin Peaks! There was a show ahead of its time. The only thing rivaling its weirdness is LOST, which lives up to its name by making sure both the characters and the audience are thoroughly...lost. People ask me what LOST is about and I tell them "I have no idea. You have to watch for yourself and join me in my brutal, but oh-so-sweet confusion."

Babbling, I am! I'm so tired. Maybe I should try one more time. Maybe I should hit myself in the head with a cast iron frying pan.

The Cliffs of Insanitweets

( random mutterings of the mentally unstable )

Suuuundaaaay Affffternooon

Got about four hours of very weird sleep under my belt. It was as though I were paralysed and in more of an unconscious state than actually being asleep. I woke up in the exact same position in which I fell asleep. I never even got to the Kevin Spacey portion of Se7en, which means I'll be terrorising Aunt Tudi with that movie sometime today. Se7en gives her seven shades of the creeps, which kinda makes me laugh and want to watch it in the living room as often as possible. Because I'm evil. BWAHAHAHA! In all seriousness, I need to get my sleep patterns back to some semblance of normalcy. I treat my lips with Lip Medex every night because I have trouble with chapped lips, but I can't bear to have anything on them when I'm awake. So my lips are extremely chapped, and I keep licking them as a result. The more I lick, the more chapped they get. Pretty soon, my lips are going to fall off.

I'm currently indulging in some hot milky English Breakfast tea and a dollop of chicken and rice. This is not the Breakfast of Champions; rather, it's the Runners-up Brunch. Later on, I'll be having the Supper of Losers. It just gets worse as the day goes along. If I happen to be up at midnight, and I probably will be, I'll have the Midnight Snack of Utter Fail. If I'm up later than that, and it's more than a little likely, I may sneak a bit of a Wee Hours of the Morning Munch of I Wish I Were Dead. And the days bleed into one another.... At least I have new designations for my body refueling interludes.

Oh, speaking of Aunt Tudi, I almost have her persuaded to make a webcam recording, so all you goons who aren't in the South can hear what a real Southern accent sounds like. I've muted mine considerably, but Aunt Tudi has just let herself go when it comes to the Southernisms. It's like I have a freakin' Steel Magnolia living with me. Barry Andrews fell in love with her accent when we all met. It was the only time I regretted working on ridding myself of the stigma of a thick accent. There's still the assumption, even amongst many Southerners, that a thick Southern accent is indicative of stupidity. That couldn't be further from the truth. I've met many a Southern idiot who barely had an accent and, by the same token, I've encountered highly intelligent individuals who sound like Gomer Pyle. When I started working on my accent in my teens, though, I was eschewing All Things Southern and was hellbent on embracing a higher form of English. Considering the area in which I live, I think I've done pretty well.

Today is the Harpist's birthday. He turns 43 today. For some reason, I keep getting reminders about his birthday every years. It's as though some dreadful deity gets a sick glee out of twisting the psychic knife of sorrow in my heart. So I won't be listening to Celtic music today, but I wasn't planning on it anyway. Today is a Shriek day, dedicated to catching my slack ass up on my writing goals. That said, I'll be around sporadically, since I'm gonna focus all my attention on The Blood Crown.

First, though, Aunt Tudi wants to see the latest turgid episode of The Joker Blogs because you know all too well I got her addicted to them.

Peektures....

Wal-Mart and Vamp tribute... Or, rather, a picture having to do with Wal-Mart and a picture having to do with a Vamp tribute. 'Cos I'll never ever do a tribute to Wal-Mart, but I'll be happy to speak at their funeral.

( on to the spammage! )

And, with that, I'm off to go scowl at my 0 word count for the day, thanks to all manner of ridiculous hoo-ha.