Friday, April 30, 2004

Don't forget tomorrow's May Day party at 1920 West Alabama, folks. If you haven't decided to come, let me give you a reason: free beer.

Once I get paid I'm gonna buy a ticket to Arrowfest, the mostly-lame classic rock get-tother at the Woodlands Pavilion. Why? Because Blue Oyster Cult is playing, and I ain't gonna miss it. Everyone should go see 'em.

I hate listening to coworkers babble.

Monday, April 26, 2004

All hail Dungeons & Dragons, which has turned 30!

D&D, and role-playing in general, has been one of the biggest influences on my life, and no matter what non-gamers may say about it, IT RULES. Here's to Rat, Wolfgar (not the one from the Icewind Dale books, but my buddy Brad's Damaran barbarian), Rogo Frostybeard, Hood, Zalandros, Greegan (a crumpled dollar bill for anyone who catches the reference) and every other D&D character I've ran, interacted with, or been Dungeon Master for. I've utterly enjoyed almost fifteen years of (increasingly infrequent, alas) role-playing, and I can definitely say I'm a better man for it- hell, without D&D, I never would've written Critical Hits, or Axis Mundi Sum for that matter.

To quote Cronos, "HELL FUCKIN' YEAH!"
Sometimes I ask myself why I signed on to write a monthly column for RPG.net. I've met all my deadlines thus far, but since they run them at the beginning of the month, a new one is upon me, and I have no idea what to write since I've finished the second draft of Critical Hits but haven't started looking for an agent yet. I'll manage something.

The Harris County Library is hiring again, so I'm going to make what I think is my third or fourth attempt at getting a job with them. Here's to success; I need a new job badly, for many reasons, and working at the library would be ideal.

I'm out. Take it easy, folks.

Tuesday, April 20, 2004

I'm still not used to 10-hour days at work. Not only does my job... I was going to say "suck crab-infested balls," but that's too generic. I'll have to think of some other perjorative later, since my brain's fried. I decided to be a prick and skip tonight's Conan game, and even though I sent Ted an email saying I was going to do so, I'm sure everyone wants my head on a pike for flaking out. I can't blame 'em, but I'll be damned if I didn't want to come home and relax. Sorry, guys. Ich bin arschloch.

And relax I have. I ate some fish sticks ("neither a fish nor a stick, but a fungus," to paraphrase Matt Groening), drank a couple beers and a whiskey sour, and sat. I also pushed myself to finish the second draft of Critical Hits, and now that that's out of the way, I can no longer avoid the hunt for an agent. Urgh.

Now that I've offset my anti-social behavior with a bit of personal fulfillment, I'm going to stretch out on the couch and finish Harlot's Ghost. Since I've only got a hundred or so pages left, I won't feel bad if I don't read them too closely.

A final note: one of the life-changing dreams I had a while back may be slowly realizing itself.

Tuesday, April 13, 2004

Hot damn! I sold half a dozen copies of Axis Mundi Sum in March! Peanuts, yeah, but six times the peanuts I'm used to seeing. Thanks, folks!

The weird dreams keep coming. Last night: threat of death at the hands of a 7' British cretin with a pipe in his hand, and a long bout of playing some shitty Clay Fighter-type game. Seems like the brain's having a ball while I'm sleeping lately.

Advance notice: Jay is having a May Day party on, of course, May 1st, at 1920 W. Alabama. BYOB and go balls-nuts by the pool! Be there, bastards.

Sunday, April 11, 2004

It seems that none of my buddies are particularly content with their lives right now. I myself have some complaints, but I can usually push my problems aside by opening a certain .doc file and hammering away for a couple hours. Of course, once that's done, I sit back and think that I'll never get this book sold, thereby whisking myself back to the ever-troubled sphere called "reality," where I am more plagued by philosophical issues than temporal ones. Way to be, Smith.

As for my friends, I can sympathize with their reasons for being restless or discontent or bordering on despair. Of course, my general silence on personal issues keeps me from discussing things with them; I suspect that, in the long run, being taciturn about my inner life may bite me in the ass. It should be obvious that I'm gibbering now, too reluctant to reveal details to say anything concrete. Maybe that's my problem.

Back to my main point... which does not exist. I've confounded myself. It is time to look elsewhere for words that mean something. And no, I'm not going to play Quest for Glory.

Friday, April 09, 2004

I had three dreams last night, only two of which I remember in any detail. One of them was freakin' fantastic, uplifting, and, I dare say, inspiring enough to possibly enact changes in my waking life.

The other one was horrible: I was in a vast room containing Simpsons-type characters (yellow skin, three fingers, etc.) that had been crucified. Hundreds, if not thousands of them, all nailed to the walls, bleeding, collapsing under their own weight. I was repulsed.

I don't remember which dream came first, but I enjoyed that there were two of them.

"I got your mother's maiden name tattooed on my arm!"

Thursday, April 08, 2004

These new ten hour shifts are all right, if, unsurprisingly slow. I'd rather be cruising around. Or something besides working. Fuck, I am brain dead.

Wednesday, April 07, 2004

My newest shoddy excuse for an RPG.net column has been posted here. Go nuts.

Check out the Eagles of Death Metal while you're at it. They'll brighten your day.

Friday, April 02, 2004

So.

I'm going to see Hellboy tonight, and then drink some beer.

Tomorrow I may go to Huntsville.

I'm going to type up revisions all weekend.

I may borrow Lost in Translation from my brother and watch it again.

I am a very exciting man, as you can clearly see. Care to stop by for a beer?