Why does everything have to be a pain in the ass, dear reader? It seems to be the way of the world: even the simplest things suddenly and inexplicably turn difficult, and become a pain in the ass. There is entirely too much pain in the ass in this world.

N.P.: “Bringing It Home” – Son of Dave

A book takes the time that it needs, and you don’t have a choice about it. But don’t worry…novels grow in the dark.

N.P.: “Under the Graveyard” – Ozzy Osbourne

All this change is exhausting. November is a month of change. December will have to be a month of catching up on the writing.

N.P.: “Free” – Vast

Nothing to see hear tonight due to server maintenance and author exhaustion.

N.P.: “Boom” – The Bloodhound Gang

I was sitting at a desk, talking to a psychologist friend, when a spider popped up over the edge of the desk and began running directly at me.  So i hammer-fisted the bastard, natch.  Just brutally squashed it, with malice aforethought, with extreme prejudice.  I was studying the guts on the outer part of my fist when the good doctor piped up.
“Whoa…what the hell was that?”
“Arachnojihad.  All spiders must die.  Kill on sight.”
“So just because your afraid of something means you can kill it?”
“Did you see any fear there?  There is no fear.  Just pure hate.  Murderous contempt.”
“So you get to play God?”
“Not at all.  God is merciful.  I am not.”
“Jesus.”
“Nope…not him either.  Two thousand years of turning the other cheek, and where has that gotten us?  No where.  Except trod upon by the forces of evil.  And spiders.  No.  No turning the other cheek.  No fear.  No mercy.  Just a trail of arachnocarcasses, spread across the land, left in situ, as messages to the rest.”
“I think you need a vacation.  Or a 72-hour hold.  I’m gonna get going.”
“I fucking hate spiders so much.”

N.P.: “The Chain” – Toothgrinder

I’ve been spending an inordinate amount of time in the matrix, dear reader.  Which is not good for anybody.  I try to avoid it, but I’ve been right in the middle of it recently, and it’s taxing as hell.  Exhausting, and existential-crisis inducing.

N.P.: “People Who Died” – The Jim Carroll Band

We are the music makers,
And we are the dreamers of dreams,
Wandering by lone sea-breakers,
And sitting by desolate streams;
World-losers and world-forsakers,
On whom the pale moon gleams:
Yet we are the movers and shakers
Of the world, forever, it seems.
~ Arthur O’Shaughnessy

There is an imbalance in my world.  Something along the lines of, “If A is true, then why do I feel so B.”  Something I’ve found that helps with imbalances is sleep.  So I’m going to pursue that option now.  Didn’t write shit today.  Dammit.

N.P.: “THISKIDSNOTALRIGHT” – AWOLNATION

One of my goals has long been and remains to fly on Air Force One.

N.P.: “Dis-O-Bedience” – KMFDM

Living anywhere in the Anhedonia Valley means dealing with ludicrous heat 6 months out of the year.  And yrs. truly does not do well in the heat, dear reader.  I usually warn people that I’m in a foul mood from Cinco de Mayo until Halloween.  Which was once again the case this year.  But Halloween is over.  It’s November.  That insipid daylight saving time finally ends this weekend.  I’m even turning on the heater tonight.  So I should be in a much more reasonable mood until Cinco de Mayo.

N.P.: “Figure It Out” – Royal Blood