thinking a lot about sex today

Not because I need to get some (I do) or that I’m particularly feeling my oats (I am), but that’s mostly because for the first time, I’m writing a sex scene.

(Well, not the first time, but the first time in canon. I alluded to the father’s use of a late night laptop session in The Mungk, and a couple of the short stories referenced sex – Get Back Again’s misogynist ghost threatening/chastising his murderer with abuse/promiscuity, Forest Edge’s main victim being a prostitute, its villain getting what comes to him at the hands of the prostitute’s best friend after being seduced, oh, and Western Cradle, which deals almost exclusively with a woman’s revenge for the murder of her family and her own gang rape).

Okay, well, then, this is the first time in canon, and also, the first time where the character is engaged in a consensual act that they really have no love for.

It’s something I would do without hesitation, and would hope my partner is open enough to find fun and sexy, but Walter, the main… he’s a little repressed. Well, a lot repressed.

And so, this is hard for me to write, because I don’t have a lot of boundaries, and it’s difficult for me to get into the mindset of someone who does. For me, it’s no big deal; it’s play.

For others, it’s world shattering.

For me, it’s fun; for Walter, it’s disgusting (hygienically and morally).

And believe me, we aren’t talking anything that weird here.

You’ll see when it’s all done.

When it finally comes out.

When any of this comes out.

Most of it has gone nowhere.

I might be getting a little stale.

Target: 1100 words
Written: 685 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: Adam Bede, George Eliot
Comics: Cyber Force v3 4-6, Cyber Force & X-Men 1
Music: Invisible, Everclear

on status

I guess it’s something I really don’t give a shit about, and I can’t help but wonder what’s wrong with people who do care so deeply. Are they so insecure in themselves that they can only feel important by dropping the names of people they know or have tangential relationships which, most of which consisted of being in the same room and uttering a polite hello, if that?

Sometimes, it’s just in the same room and knowing the person’s name.

But, I mean, there’s a limit. When you’re throwing around local names like they’re big celebs, maybe you ought to consider that other people know these people. It ain’t that big of a town.

That one’s white trash. This one was a bully in high school. I applaud the work that one’s doing, but my experience *of years* with them is that they are a consummate complainer, more interested in tearing down than building up, and definitely overestimating their relative skillset.

I’ve never even heard of that one, so why do you think it’s important that I know it and conflate this complete unknown’s relative “importance” with you?

Anyway, status, status, status… what’s the point? Spending so much time on it only makes you look desperate and kind of pathetic, and lowers any status or reputation you might have.

I’m certainly no paragon, and I have many, many (oh my god, so many) faults, but one thing I will give myself is that I have no interest in status. When I was younger, sure, I inflated my ego with bullshit stories to feel better about my importance in the world, but now that I’m older, have been through shit, and thoroughly tore myself down, man, who has time for that shit?

And at our age?

Life’s too short for the front.

Target: 1100 words
Written: 2124 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: Miss Peregrine's Home For Peculiar Children, Ransom Riggs
Comics: Cyber Force v2 26-29
Music: Interpol, Interpol

lottery

It’s a silly thing, isn’t it?

Miniscule chances for the possibility of something for literally, almost nothing?

Like, what? Twenty bucks and the time it took to go to the store?

Or, we could just work, and focus on doing what we love for way less money, but a way happier life. Are lottery winners that happy? Or are they harangued, losing money left and right because everyone’s at them and they aren’t business people, they’re journeymen, stay-at-home moms, office pools.

Folks whose lack of discipline has them working jobs they hate (or not working at all for various reasons, some of them completely legit) aren’t buying lotto tickets because they’re happy with their situation.

They either just don’t know how to move into a more fulfilling life, don’t know what that life looks like, or past decisions/social setup has them trapped into something less desirable, and this long shot is the only way out.

I don’t generally buy lottery tickets, but hell, if I don’t fantasize sometimes.

Of course, as I get older, I’m far more interested in stability doing something I love, and spending my time and money on experiences than things. Things are nice, but you only buy what you need.

And you don’t need most things.

But experiences? Priceless.

Target: 1100 words
Written: 1805 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: Kitchen Confidential, Anthony Bourdain
Comics: Cyber Force v2 17-18, Velocity 2, Ripclaw v2 1
Music: Instrumental, Linkin Park (not sure where this came from, but it's instrumental remakes of Linkin Park songs.  Weird, right?)

voting

I mean, I guess it’s worthwhile to go. I always make a point of it, but when literally no one you know or have heard of can defend or wants Doug Ford (and you know there must be people out there), you have to wonder how legit these wins are.

Low voter turnout, the surprise, unnecessary election to ensure he can “deal” with Trump.

I mean, bullshit. This guy is a bird of a feather with those assholes.

He’ll sell us out in a heartbeat if it means more slush money for him and his developer cronies.

Man, am I ever tired of corruption and stupidity. Am I ever tired of lies and flagrant disregard for the responsibility of being of service.

Because that’s what you’re supposed to be – a servant.

You’re in government because you want to help. You want to be of service.

You want to make the world a better place.

But these fucking Cons, man. They are a con.

All they give a shit about is lining their own pockets at our expense, and/or getting as much power as they possibly can.

What pieces of fucking shit.

Here’s to revolution, sooner rather than later.

Fuck ’em.

Target: 1100 words
Written: 3185 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: Trust Me, I'm Lying, Ryan Holiday
Comics: Codename Strykeforce 2-3, Cyber Force 4-5
Music: In Your Honor, Foo Fighters

fantasies

We all have them, whether it’s a kiss with that cute boy, climbing Everest, kicking the shit out of a political figure who badly needs it, or just a quiet Sunday morning with a cup of tea and a danish.

There’s nothing wrong with them.

It’s nice to have the simulation; it just shouldn’t stop us from making it a reality.

Go ahead. Enjoy your lurid fantasies; just don’t harm anyone in their pursuit (except maybe that particular political figure, and maybe you ought to run out all of your peaceful resistance options first).

Violence is never cool.

Target: 1100 words
Written: 103 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, Stieg Larsson
Comics: Shadowhawk v5 10-13
Music: In The City, The Jam

it occurred to me

That it might be funny to make little haikus out of the post listings on the right.

It currently says

i am also eating shit
we know you’re eating shit
never let it be said

Which isn’t traditional haiku, but it’s followed up by

so i went off the drugs
dogsittin’

Which in itself is kind of fun.

Something to think about.

It would lock me into the site’s look and feel, which is kind of hilarious.

Mornings are fucked when you’re thinking about barking dogs and yoga butt and the lack of porn in a main character’s movie collection.

Writing is weird.

Target: 1100 words
Written: 986 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, Stieg Larsson
Comics: Shadowhawk v5 6-9
Music: In The Chamber: The String Quartet Tribute To Linkin Park, String Quartet (this is a real thing, no shit)

i am also eating shit

We are eating shit together.

Together, we eat shit.

Shit we eat.

Fuck Elon Musk. May he forever eat shit.

Target: 1100 words
Written: 79 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo
Comics: Blacklight 2, Shadowhawk v5 4-5, Bomb Queen Vs. Blacklight 1
Music: In The Aeroplane Over The Sea, Neutral Milk Hotel

we know you’re eating shit

We know.

You don’t have to pretend otherwise.

We all are.

Target: 1100 words
Written: 64 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, Stieg Larsson
Comics: Shadowhawk v5 1-3, Blacklight 1
Music: The In Sound From Way Out!, Beastie Boys

never let it be said

That I’m not grateful for the love I have to give.

Remember too that conflict tempers; steel is not made hard with gentle caress.

That’s for penii.

(I’m so sorry).

Target: 1100 words
Written: 73 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, Stieg Larsson
Comics: Shadowhunt 3-5, Return Of Shadowhawk 1
Music: In Rainbows, Radiohead

at war

I think it kind of goes without saying, but we are at war, world.

At war with those who would drag us back to the dark ages, to authoritarianism, bigotry and greed. To robber barons and dictators. To patriarchy, slavery and the oppression of all who do not agree or do not conform.

It may not be fighting in the streets, but we are at war.

Fight like it.

Target: 1100 words
Written: 51 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: Proof Of Corruption
Comics: Shadowhawk v4 18, Vampirella/Shadowhawk 2, New Shadowhawk 1-2
Music: In Miracle Land, The Vines