Revelations On Tail

I’ve been making a serious effort to stop whining at you, and it’s getting easier because I’ve quit drinking so much and I’ve moved into the “denial” phase. I’ve been trying to stop whining at you, but it’s mostly resulted in a hell of a lot of quiet around here. So, what’s up?

The film company finally has a logo, and we’re all reasonably decently deluding ourselves into thinking that this is a perfectly reasonable backup plan. Like, if all the real jobs in America fall into a gaping crack in the Earth, (and become clubhouses for the lost boys), it’s no big. By then, I’ll be a film editor. Poo will smell like roses, cancer will be cured True Blood will come on some channel that I get, and my cat will live forever. Johnny Depp and Jack White will be fighting over me, trying to buy my affections with items from the Victorian Trading Company catalog.

Go big or go home.

(Jack will win by buying me the Cleopatra fainting couch.)

“How’s the book coming?” Well, I haven’t actually had time to think about it for the last couple of months. I tagged everything up to 2007, but 9 years of blogs take a while to tag. Seeing as how I’m now making a serious effort to stop working on dumb crap for dumb people who make me want to kill myself and never pay their bills, maybe some progress will be made. If your name is Tyler and you’re reading this, I’m not talking about you. Your stuff kept getting pushed back because someone else was sucking the life out of me. I have fired her, I’m working on your stuff and, rest assured, I will not be trying to get any money out of you. This has taken me an unacceptable length of time and I suck. Just sayin.

Despite efforts of friends and the internet, I have (so far) successfully dodged all members of the male gender (male? members? har?). It’s been more difficult of late, since October is always the time of year when random strangers decide to hit on the goth chick at the local Kroger. “What do goth chicks EAT?” “Babies.” Come November 1, the heat is usually off, but then I lost ten pounds and left the house a few times. Also, it’s knee boot season. I can’t take me anywhere.

A sense of humor is good.
Consistency is better.
Double points if you are short, sideburned and know what DeathRock is. Or if you are Jack White.

Jen is gone to the Navy, and that sucks ass. It’s good for her, and we’re all glad that she’s going to go off and live up to her potential and all that. I’m happy for her, but that doesn’t mean that there’s not a big empty space next to me at goth night.

WAIT! That’s the problem!!

Without Jen (who I lovingly refer to as my official cockblock), there’s no perky, cute girl standing next to me for dudes to talk to. They have no choice but to end up talking to me.

Well, I’m glad we worked that out.

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