HAPPY THANKSGIVING

What am I thankful for?

My mother still lives and her cancer was removed.
My beautiful newborn niece is a healthy little doll.
My brother is also a good friend.
My dad's expertise in car repairs.
My friends, who are good people. Hell, their the Good Guys, warts and all.
That I have wonderful memories of the grandparents who have passed away.
That I have a good paying job with coworkers who like me---
(even if I whine and bitch about it in my private life)
That I have to worry about being too big instead of where my next meal is coming from.
That one of my friends came out of their dark place and felt the warmth of the day.

Take a moment today and remember that even the family that drive you crazy are still family, and if they are true to the spirit of the word, they will be there when you need it. And they don't have to share dna to be family. Blood spent in defense or aid of another can form as strong and true a binding as anything ever born of lineage and name.

Be well. Be true. I give you my blessings and heartfelt wishes that your life becomes all you hope for. All I ask is you take a moment and pass it on to others.

Filling time...

Well, there are things I need to be doing and things I want to be doing but I am too lazy to do the crap that needs doing and still drawing blank on the things that I want to be doing. So I am going with option The Other.

It is Saturday and I am doing the most studly and macho of things. Baking cookies. Kinda-Puffy Choco-Chip's to be precise.

And I am baking them for my mom to brighten her day a bit.
Fear me world. For I am MACHO TOUGH HOMBRE NUMERO UNO.

Need a real grocery cause the one I normally go to has added crap non-food product but didn't have cake flour. Bread? sure. All-Purpose and Self-Rising? natch. Fargin' bastadges, should just shiv'em all; not having the flour I wanted. They were just asking for a rumble.

Now I must forge into the dark chamber that houses the metal bohemoth. Face his scorching breath that belches out air that's almost 400 degrees, and steal away my small round treasures from his gaping maw.

For I am a man and facing unnamed horrors is what we do.

Without a clue

I am stuck in a place that's a first for me. I am drawing blank. I can remember no time when I have not had an idea. For a game scenario, a story, background info, I have always been able to come up with something new.

Not this week.

Nothing at all. The creative well is tapped out for once.

I can't even expand on past ideas or flesh previous notes. And that's always easy to do for me.

Not this week.

No focus. No center. No spark of creation. Is this how the mundane world thinks?

What do you do when you have nothing new?

Filed under "M" for Stuff

Way freaking behind on Novel Writing. But am diving into it again. Not been writers block or fancy distractions. Just a deep personal exhaustion for the last few days. But it did give me time to think and ponder.

If you are reading this blog and not watching "Arrested Development" on Fox --- Monday nights at 8pm (7c) you should be damned good show and worth anyone and everyone's time. Everyone involved in this bit of television should be proud of themselves.

Need to take my cat to the vet. How screwed up is it I am more worried about my feline's medical well-being than my own? I can only assume its because I am the sapient biped and he is the quadruped cohort that depends on me for all external and extended needs.

Am starting to write again. That's always a good thing, but it makes me ask a simple question. I am now wary of simple questions.

Been playing a smattering of poker in a local league. The Brother is kicking some ass at it though. We both got hammered in the monthly "Big Event" by being forced to face idiots. Think of it like tossing a pistol back and forth with a toddler, nothing good has ever come from it for the person who should know better.

I was curious about something. Had to check it out online. 1000 sites and only 1 said what I wanted to hear. That makes the odds roughly 00.1%. I can live with that. Fuck the 99.9% that will henceforth be called 'tards who think backwards on it. The 'tards must have the exception to the rule because the exception proves there is no absolute. The 00.1% will not be alone in the world. To quote Batman, "Now we are two."

Old people won the lottery. Some 68 year old bittie and her dottering 72yo hubby. 110 milion in cash. When they die the state gets 50% for the estate tax. I wouldn't mind them getting 1 or 2 million that much, but they don't have the time to enjoy the kind of loot they got to plunder. For me it would have been a kick ass road trip with friends, the dream vacation for my family, grandma never worrying about money again, and some amazing high-class whores for yours truly.

Did you ever thing that maybe the reason we never see Bigfoot but we do get grainy out of focus pix of the fabled Nessie (see the reference text 10 famous sea monsters of Scotland) and the odd offspring is because the baby serpent is Bigfoot's love child and he is ducking out in shame of his one drunken trip to Europe?

And it begins......

30 days.

Ouch.

This might hurt.