01 June, 2011

How do we begin June? Fuck if I know.

The year 2011, already hitting month number six, is getting off to a slow start. Indeed, these past five months have been fairly adventureless compared to last year, but consider that I've been keeping myself busy working on a few projects.
BULLET POINT LIST ASSEMBLE!
  1. The constant but lugubrious putting together of CaSa014.
    I was going to call it Many Moons Have Passed, Many More Will Follow...
    ...but I think that I did a pretty good job of beating that whole cult-of-the-snake-god imagery to death on Century Gothic, so I figured why not use the Wolfman piece I had done a few years back because, you know, the whole "moon" thing.
    But the title still sounded cheesy, so then I was going to call the record Ribbons of Flesh.

    Obviously, I didn't draw that, it's just a place holder I was using for a mock up. It's a picture of Crytococcus neoformans, a genus of fungi that eats radiation. That's right, I said it eats radiation.
    I let that sit for a few days and then decided against it. What's it titled now? That'll be a surprise.
  2. The constant but lugubrious putting together of a physical copy of Over that wall the orchard is on fire.
    For real, I'm at the point where I just need some semi glossy paper and then the time to sit down and stitch this book together. That's right. Like Betsy fuckin' Ross.

    Who was a stone fox.
  3. Obviously, there's been a spike in the number of posts tagged with graphic art, lately.
  4. Attending the writer's workshop. Since tonight is the first Wednesday of the month, I (being a nonmember) can read a ten minute sample of my work. I have a five page sample which clocked in at fifteen minutes and that was reading as fast as I could, thus fucking up certain inflections and stresses. So, I'm going to have to cut something out somewhere.
  5. Speaking of writing, there's also my submissions to The Aluminum Beard and the monthly PRF Short Fiction Challenge.
  6. Fixing up my bike, even if the plan is to strip it of all its bells and whistles and bust it down from an eighteen speed (unnecessary in the metro) to a six speed. Considering how often I have to tune this fucker up, I think that I'll just break down and buy a new bike. Preferably something with a lighter frame and brakes that aren't so high goddamned maintenance. I'd like to keep the mountain bike style tires, though, as I do have to take curbs and greenery every once in a while what because of them ponce pedestrians.
  7. And then, of course, trying to eat healthy - basically resisting the urge to order out even if I just don't feel like cooking after I get off the clock.
Look, it was either this or I could tell you about my fucked up journey into the land of nod where I got a job at the Triple Rock (a place I've been to exactly three times) and ran into a one night stand from last year for whom I'd nearly fallen head over heels working there but with her hair died fuschia, and that I woke up before we boned (even though we were so going to bone like no one's ever boned before) with a dick hard enough to cut diamonds and a depressingly empty bed and how I thought for a moment that I'm severely wasting my life and that the whole fetid mess lately is all useless and that thoughts got more depressing until I said, Fuck it, and opened up her picture on my laptop and cracked off a mean one to it so that I would simply be a sad, sad man and not a man who feels sad. I could've told you that. That's what you would've read. You wouldn't have read "Oh, Charlie is keeping himself artistically busy with a variety of projects in different mediums as well as taking care of his body with plenty of exercise and a nutritious diet", no! You would've read "Sad Man Masturbates Before Getting Out of Bed!" I'm sure that's what you came here for: Sad man masturbating because he's lonely and severely depressed and trying to compensate for his lack of emotional and romantic fulfillment by filling that void with a number of projects to keep his mind busy and not thinking about how dreadful it is to drag himself through another lonely goddamned day. Oh and he totally just fucking knocks one out of the park before he even has a cup of coffee in him. That's what you came to read. Just a sad man masturbating everywhere. Look at him tugging away at his little pink peeny and his frowny face and bored, lifeless eyes. Sad man masturbating.
Also? I'm thinking of starting a garden. Start off small with something like carrots or something.

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