{ 30 } Updating Stuff

Not very exciting, I know.

Other than changing the background, the only other real change is the "tag cloud." See it over there on the right? Now you can view all post on a topic.

The one I think you'll like the most is "SHORT/LONG/OTHERWISE": clicking that will show you all the posts in which I've actually written something, rather than just blabbing away about whatever is going on in my tortured artist's soul.

Coming soon, I plan to add the full text of the article I wrote awhile back for Rooster magazine. I just have to find the damn thing. This is a constant problem for me.

As of late, I've been reading way too much. Like, uncomfortable levels of reading. Like, reading so much, it's a good thing I don't have friends because they might feel I've chosen books over them. And I'm not talking audio books either; since the beginning of the year, I've read six full books and I'm in the middle of two more. That's more than most people read in a year. And I've done it in under six weeks, on top of working full time, and, you know, living. Sheesh.

Also, as I pondered doing awhile back, I'm going to make audio recordings of all the stories and whatnot that are here. It's going to be a process, but it might be fun to read aloud the stuff I've written. Or maybe it will be just another laborious task that I start, which I hadn't, and never finish. Time will tell.

Finally, as I teased over on my Geeks Who Drink blog (the one I'm contractually obligated to write every week, recapping my misadventures in quizzing over at the Trail Head Tavern), I'm starting a new project. Another one. 'Cause, you know, I don't have enough partially finished projects to work on. So, keep an eye out for that.

I'm going to try and stop being so creatively lazy. No promises.

{ 29 } Andy Made Me Write This

So, Andy forced me to write a thing. And I did. I hate it. What do you think?

-----
Sometimes you do the acid; sometimes the acid does you.

Renee felt her house shift below her feet.
Was that an earthquake? No, earthquakes don't happen in Nebraska.
 That's when Renee remembered the two hits of acid she had taken.
Oh, fuck. I'm fucked.
Renee looked at the walls of her house: they were melting. Bricks moving in and out, as if some divine hand was pushing messages through from the outside. Pets: melting. Hands: melting.

Milk, milk, milk. I need milk.

Renee picked up the phone and called Luke.
Luke! I need milk!
Luke, on the other end of the line, was not confused. He knew. He knew what Renee had done.
Hang on, baby. I'm on my way. With milk.

Time... Time... Time passes...

Renee: I'm fucking dying!
Luke: I brought you a gallon of milk!
Renee: It's solid! It's solid!
Luke: No! Renee! Sleep!
Renee: Luke. I'm okay. I'm not... melting.
Luke: Renee... You're not melting. Lay down. Go to sleep...
Renee:  Sleep. I should melt in to sleep...

And she did.

Renee slept. Sordid dreams.
But in the morning, all was okay. No melting.
-----

It's a short. It has an ending. Pffft.