I'd write a book for that title, were I only possessed with the angry and inebriated ghost of Hunter S. Thompson.

Sunny today with a few clouds. Our high was 85˚F. It's currently 81˚F.

To be honest, I have almost nothing to say about today. But, let's see. Well, there's this. I mean, yes, sure, I am a pervert, and I have written reams of what I ( Read more... )

Sunny today. We made it to 83˚F.

The James Goho book has, I think, really done a number on my head. I suppose it ought not have, but it has, all the same. Someone has gone to the trouble to write a book about my fiction, and McFarland has seen fit to publish it. And it just will not sop seeming weird. I haven't even opened my copy of the book ( Read more... )

Mostly sunny today. We reached 84˚F.

I began reading Hunter S. Thompson's Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. Lord, the 20th century is comforting.

My afternoon comfort film was one of my very favorite sf films ever, Danny Boyle's Sunshine (2007). Warts and all, it's a beautiful, beautiful film. Yes, there's a horrible mess in the "third act," using ( Read more... )

I did not mean to go eightteen days between entries.

I've not been working. I can hardly get out of bed, and I hate saying that shit in public, but what else will I say?

I finished the Hunter S. Thompson and read Angela Carter's Nights at the Circus, and now I'm reading her The Magic ToyshopI've been working a little on the Winifred block ( Read more... )

I'm sitting here spacing out listening to the frogs and crickets and katydids outside my office window. Well, now it's sort of my office/prep lab window, so thank you for that, Covid-19 ( Read more... )

A rainy, chilly first day of November, the wind trying to tug the the trees naked. There's a bad storm coming, to herald in the dead season. Our high today will be only 48˚F, but it's going to feel ten degrees colder. There's still the possibility of snow in the forecast. There's a wind advisory for tonight, with gusts up to 50mph. The seas are ( Read more... )

I want to make a promise to you, the reader. And I don't know if I can fulfill it tomorrow, or even the day after that. But I put the bastards of this world on notice that I do not have their best interests at heart. I will try and speak for my reader. That is my promise. And it will be a voice made of ink and rage. ~ Hunter S. Thompson, The Rum ( Read more... )

Honestly? Getting my first tattoo doesn't make nearly one quarter the interesting story I'd thought it would. The experience was both exhilarating and mundane. Like eating your first habañero. On the one hand, well, so this is what it's like to experience the taste sensation of 100,000-350,000 on the Scoville scale, but on the other....how many ( Read more... )