Maybe it was Socrates…

“There are no good writers, only good re-writers.”  -Someone who knows how f#@$ing difficult it is to write something you can be proud of.

 

The paid writing continues, kind of.  It will take some time to find my groove and figure out just how much damage I can do to my cognitive abilities without ruining myself for the day after.  I’m sure part of it is just getting into shape too.  My productivity has grown flabby as evidenced by only one broken key on my keyboard.

Also of interest (mostly just to me) the clam chowder is still delicious and possibly even more chowdery.  It probably only has a day or two left though so all of you who want some had better get your buns over here.

I have never been very knowledgeable about the popular sports.  I can name the world records in any number of track and field events and identify a somewhat embarrassing number of gymnastics maneuvers but hell if I know which side of the NFC/AFC line teams come down on or who is favored for March Madness or even what there is to be so angry about.  Sure, it’s a slightly longer than normal month, but it’s Spring.  Smile.

A side effect of this internet content writing is that I’m learning about sports at a highly accelerated rate and I’m doing it in a way that is pretty much exactly counter to my natural learning style.  My task is often to find specific facts to write about and it’s easy to pad them and make them seem interesting in a vague way, but less easy to put them in any kind of context or give them relevant connections until I’ve spent some time acquiring background information that some people take for granted.

Sure, hardly anyone reads these things—including the customer—but come on!   If I have to complete stow my writerly instincts I might as well be doing a job that doesn’t have anything to do with writing and spare my years of the practice the damage.  So I’m learning some new things and having to ignore some things I learned long ago.  It’s tricky, I’ll tell you what.

As promised, a return to the Comic of the Day tradition.  Unfortunately by not doing it a day sooner I missed out on a doozy so it’s up to you to go through the links and find which one you think I’m talking about.  Today it’s Bug and it’s in the middle of a delightful weekly series as he sometimes does.  Be sure to go back and forward to get the full experience.

I have a meeting to attend in the morning so I am off to sleep now.  Sweet dreams, comrades.

In case you were wondering, I’m hungry right now.

Today our two bedroom apartment became a four person apartment.  I have not yet been so motivated to get myself back to South Dakota as I was today.  What’s worse, it happened at about 9 a.m.  For those of you keeping score, you might observe that 9 a.m. for me is right around the time I’m nailing down my 4^th hour of sleep so it’s not my favorite time to have banging about and loud conversation happening on the other side of a shockingly hear-through wall.

On the other hand the gas guy came today which means hot water can now be had by all.  And most importantly by me.  I don’t fancy risking hypothermia every time I shower.  You may laugh and shake your head along with the others, but you don’t have to sit around and shake uncontrollably for twenty minutes after a cold shower or get frighteningly sleepy the second you start to warm up.  You don’t get to criticize me for being skinny and then ignore the perils of skinniness in the same conversation.

Dehydration and vulnerability to heat stroke are on the list as well.  Less body-fat means less insulation and less storage for water and fat-soluble vitamins and minerals.  I live with these conditions and I don’t even expect sympathy; just don’t treat me like they aren’t real because skinniness is idolized.  I wake up with a hangover when I don’t drink enough water through the night and I get sleepy and cranky if I don’t eat regularly because I don’t have any backup energy to burn.

So back off.  Different body type, different issues.  Not perfect, just different.  If you’re going to insist that I eat more, then buy me food.  It isn’t cheap and I eat more than you think.  If you doubt that, pay to feed me for a week some time.  I eat moderate amounts about twice as often as you do when I really have my way, which I rarely do.  I like meat and dairy and eggs and alcohol and soda and I take a multivitamin because getting the proper amount of vitamins and minerals is a hassle and nearly impossible anyway.

Vegans don’t really have the time of day for me.  Atkins proponents, if any have survived, would be utterly horrified by my wanton disregard for carbohydrate regulation.  Though I do prefer complex carbs, so that’s something.

When I was running track in college I was eating  about 8,000 calories a day including creatine and protein supplements.  I managed to gain about five pounds over nine months, most of which was spent intensively lifting weights because my shins utterly failed me after the first semester.  Or perhaps I failed my shins by spending so much time out of shape and then diving into it so hard again.

I don’t feel bad about trying hard.  I do feel bad about putting it off and being so foolish about getting back into it.  I love track.  It is one of my greatest passions and I miss it terribly.  If I could get a job coaching track, even one with crappy pay, it would be a dream come true.  I’ll post some old notes about that in the coming days.

I’m tired and it’s a busy day tomorrow so I’ll give you the CotD and we can part ways.  Today was awesome.  I recommend checking out pretty much all my webcomic links because it was hard to choose.  I went with Penny Arcade because the joke reminds me ever so slightly of the dynamic between me and my roommate of old and possibly again.  And because the facial expressions crack me right up.

Sleep well.  Don’t get into too much trouble.  If you do, share the details so we can all laugh.

Alabama wants their song back, Kentucky Fried Ninnies!

The moving process continues and continually winds down.  Soon there will be nothing left to do but move somewhere else.  Ha.  Haha.  Ha.

One day of heavy lifting remains, but there has been talk of recruiting someone else to help me do it and that will probably take a little time.  Between the help and the rest it should be no big deal.  And if I get horribly maimed in the process I’ll have more time to work on being clever. After all, I’ll have to get there some day.

As I mentioned yesterday I was fiercely hungry all day while we were doing the majority of the moving.  When I get that kind of hungry I find myself craving very specific things, and needing to avoid certain things or my old acid reflux damage will punish me.  The flavor of the day, during lunch anyway, was chicken.

Normally I’m not a tremendous fan of chicken.  I can cook it and do when other people want it; but for myself I’ll usually go with red meat or turkey.  Chicken is always a safe choice when my stomach is being delicate, though.  So we went to KFC.  Not nearly as safe a choice.

Luckily there is a grilled option along with the original and extra crispy, so I got to avoid the  pools of grease trapped inside the nutritionally useless—albeit tasty—breaded and fried skins.  The grilled chicken (ingeniously dubbed “KGC”) was lackluster, dry and marginally well seasoned.  But I was starving so it was at that moment the sweetest nectar ever squeezed from the finest fruit of Demeter’s orchards.

Even so, the mashed potatoes and gravy, though surely not made from potatoes and probably having only the slightest relation to true food-based gravy, were the real star.  I love KFC’s mashed potatoes and gravy.  I probably could have just gotten two pounds of mashed potatoes and gravy and called it lunch.

I also love their biscuits.  With a fiery passion I love their biscuits.  I try to make buttermilk biscuits on my own sometimes, but it’s just never the same.  There’s some synthetic, mass-market, carcinogenic, cholesterol multiplying agent that goes into KFC biscuits that makes them only slightly less addictive and slightly more legal than crack.

Unfortunately these biscuits lacked that.  Had I not been four or five calories above comatose I might have been upset.  Instead I was vaguely disappointed and vowed never again to eat at that KFC.

The “buttery spread” they gave us (only when asked specifically), quite clearly identified as “artificially flavored”, refused to melt even when placed on the hot biscuit.  Instead the mysterious paste sucked all the heat out of the biscuit and was quite possibly responsible for its cardboard-esque flavor and texture.

It was no small wonder that the place had a whopping six customers at 12:30 in the afternoon on a Friday.  Though most businesses here are like there.  There are too many businesses for the population.  You’d think that would be a good thing.  Yay jobs, right?  Except none of those businesses make enough money to pay employees.  Especially with the minimum wage so high the unions have to go straight to six figure salaries for unskilled positions just to maintain their economy-crushingly absurd demands.  So no jobs.

In short, KFC’s sketchy “buttery spread” and disappointing biscuits are ruining the economy.

I almost did a CotD today.  But then I realized it’s technically a Monday post so you’ll just have to wait for tomorrow to see what it is.  I did post the studio comic so you can go check that out instead, if you haven’t already.  Good night, world.

Work in Progress, Episode 003

We’re going to go a different direction.

Sometimes it’s best to hire from outside.

Is 26 too early for a hip replacement?

I was desperately hopeful that, thanks to my new and exciting surroundings, I would be motivated to do a long, fascinating blog the likes of which not yet been witnessed here.  That is not the case.  My hips hurt, my fingers hurt, my feet hurt, and my brain has been a little occupied keeping all that manageable while I carried stuff up today that was left in the garage late last night.

Still, I’ll post an update and maybe something interesting will accidentally find its way in.

The new apartment seems very nice to me.  It’s clean and spacious and the complex we now belong too might be fun once I can drag my feeble, old man limbs down to the pool and fitness room.

I complain but I’m actually feeling much better than I thought I would be.  My hips and fingers are really stiff, but my muscles bounced right back.  My thighs are a little sore, but not bad at all considering the burn I was feeling last night.  Maybe all that food I was eating helped.  Yesterday I was hungrier than I have been for years.  Constantly, achingly, angrily hungry.  Massive amounts of food and caffeine are really all that kept me on my feet and I except for the parts where I wasn’t eating or drinking, I was pleased with my appetite.

Those who know me know how much I enjoy being barefoot.  Those who have known me for a long time know that I’ve been scampering about shoeless as much as possible for a pretty long time now.  Those who have been in my vicinity for several years have noticed; it’s been mentioned to me by strangers who see me often.

It’s strange to be barefoot so much.  I suppose I can’t argue with that, by the definition of “strange”.  Most people do not go around barefoot all that often.  It is not normal.  I’m not sure why other people find it so offensive.  Why does it gross them out?  As far as health goes, it’s my feet.  I am responsible for their cleanliness and if I don’t mind occasionally walking in dirty places, why should you?  I guarantee I wash my feet more often than you wash your shoes and I watch where I step more carefully.

I would not recommend eating off my feet or off the floor where they’ve been.  If you were going to do that, I must insist you remain disappointed.  I wouldn’t particularly advise eating off my shoes or the floor where they have been either.  Or anyone else’s shoes.  If that’s your thing… well I refuse to feel bad about what harm my feet may be bringing to your extremely weird eating surface.

Are you worried about mold or fungus or whatever other nasty things are known to grow on a person’s feet?  Educate yourself, fool.  Molds and fungus grow in warm, moist, dark environments.  They grow inside a shoe and sock on dirty, sweaty feet.  Walking around barefoot my feet get plenty of air and light and thus stay dry and growth free.  I have never in my life had a foot disease.

Even though I’ve already addressed it, there’s some vague “health” stigma about being barefoot in a place where food is served.  Not even served, sold for that matter, such as a gas station.  I don’t know what the basis for that is.  Not many states have health or fire codes regarding being barefoot in public places but plenty of people still seem to cite these mysterious laws.  Other people’s hair and hands and breath and clothes pose a far greater risk to the food on your table than my feet do on the floor.  And my feet pose no greater threat than someone’s shoes.  I have smelled shoes that pose a far greater health risk than my feet ever have.

Sure, there’s a risk of injury.  Stress fractures and broken toes and cuts are not unheard of.  These are risks I take, try to avoid, but generally find acceptable.  I have no more interest in contracting gangrene than anyone else does, when I do have an open wound I clean it, bandage it, and protect it until it’s healed.

I like feeling the ground.  Grass and water and sand and even pavement, I like standing on whatever face the earth has beneath me.  It makes me feel unencumbered and at ease wherever I am.  You don’t have to see any value in that, but why spoil my fun just because it isn’t your way?  Feel free to point and laugh and ask me why and giggle behind my back; but there’s no reason to call the manager over and ask me to be removed from the sight of your children before I convert them to my pagan, unshod ways.

And now that you’ve enjoyed that lovely rabbit trail, back to the moving topic.

I spent about half the moving process barefoot.  My feet are strong and tough and I am comfortable and confident doing physically demanding things while barefoot.  Lifting and carrying heavy things was not particularly taxing for the first few hours.  I dropped a couple things on my feet and I stubbed my toes a couple times—I’m quite sure one of my toes is broken—but like I said, that’s a known and acceptable risk.

But it was over 100 most of the day and when it came to moving stuff into the apartment there was a stretch of gravel to walk over and the stairs up to our door have a coarse pebble aggregate surface.  By about 6 p.m. my feet were torn right up.  My soles were stained completely black from the grime that covers every outdoor surface in this city except for a few abraded spots that were both worn sensitive and pretty definitely burned from the hot pavement and truck ramp.

At that point I put shoes on.  I don’t regret my decision and I will continue to gallivant around barefoot whenever possible.  As soon as the skin grows back.

That seems like plenty of my words for tonight.  I’ll leave you with a special edition CotD since you were deprived yesterday and the traditionally awful Saturday showing would in no way make it up to you.  Bug deserved recognition yesterday, as on so many days, so it’s getting it now.  Go read it and laugh.  Now.

On a semi-related note, I’ve decided to try out a different art style for the Berserker Labs proprietary comic.  Tomorrow will be what you’ve seen thus far, but next week may hold something new and exciting!  Sleep well, munchkins.

Fall has… fallen. Shows are showing.

Tonight’s blog is brought to you by Blue Moon Harvest Pumpkin Ale.  A fair bit of it.  The ale, not the blog.  Pretty much the whole blog is influenced by the ale.  I recommend it.  The blog and the ale.  Aren’t pronouns fun?

Only a drunk English major would make that many jokes about vague pronouns.

It’s moving time.  I only know one person who likes moving and she’s… well she’s crazy.  Packing has been going on and I have been fairly neglectful, I admit.  But it isn’t my stuff.  I don’t want to be responsible for the order it’s packed in or any miss-categorization.  I’ll do the heavy lifting when it comes time to pack and unpack the truck.  That seems like a fair contribution.  I may lack superpowers, but I can apply normal powers to appropriate purposes.

I lack the brainpower to form any sort of meaningful post tonight, so I’ll give you some media and a comic and that’ll be it.

Watch this show.  Do it.  It’s hilarious.  It’s one of the best comedy shows on the air today:

Modern Family

I’ve talked about Nathan Fillion, back during the Firefly post.  Now I’m mentioning him again for his current show.  This is a great detective show.  It’s clever, suspenseful, and downright fun.  Watch it and love it:

Castle

And today’s CotD is from a comic that hasn’t gotten much attention here even though it is definitely one of the highest quality out there.  The art has progressively improved and it keeps a cohesive storyline with frequent smiles and occasional hilarity.  Feast your eyes on a particularly standout issue of Questionable Content.

Tomorrow will be spent loading a truck and driving a truck and unloading a truck so there probably won’t be a midday post.  But I’ll try to bring you something  more coherent for the evening.  Sleep well, world.

Fortune cookies: Keeping Celiac’s sufferers from knowing the future since 1918.

Today has been a day of opportunities.  Tomorrow will be a day of finding out about those opportunities.  I have to admit that tomorrow sounds more interesting.  But I’ll throw some teasers out for now.

I have an interview tomorrow at a company that offers academic aid and writing services.  The interview is at 10:30 in the morning which those of you who know me know is a solid two hours before I normally begin to form coherent sentences.

I will probably have to walk the 2.5 miles to that interview as well, so cross your fingers for sub-brain-boiling temperatures and non-vehicular-manslaughtering drivers.  Apparently you get shot in this town for taking babies on walks or something so if anyone is concerned for my well-being, feel from to donate some walking about armor.

The other opportunity is phone call away, and I figure that normal business hours would be a better timeframe for that than… now.  I don’t want to jinx that one, but it would be more or less a dream job for me and those who know me would appreciate its proximity to my favorite TV show.  (You’ll still get the details first, Ferret.)

I’m putting a lot of eggs in the “those who know me” basket tonight.  I apologize to everyone else.  Tomorrow I’ll say more about it as I’ll know much more one way or the other.

We ate at China Ginger tonight and I have to say it is some of the best Chinese food I’ve ever had.  Ever.  It was amazing.  Service was prompt and polite, the food came quickly and was fresh and delicious.  The beef in my Mongolian beef was cooked perfectly and that seems so unlikely at an affordable Chinese restaurant that I have never before considered hoping for it.  There was even an extremely optimistic fortune that suggested I would soon have success in the entertainment industry.  We’ve all been down that road before.  Everyone who ignored the “An investment in fruity tech stocks will serve you well” fortunes from 1985 is feeling pretty foolish right now so I say jump in when the tiny slip of paper in the stale, flavorless cookie gives you a green light.

Today’s CotD came through big with flashy language used in silly ways to poke fun at the common theme of modern day gaming and entertainment in general.  Penny Arcade usually delivers good stuff, but today they stood tall among a few other good options and I am rewarding them for it.

I’m tired and I’m supposed to be sleeping, or something, to prepare for my interview.  Catch ya on the flip side.

You know what I’m talking about. You always know.

I have embarked into the untamed wilds of freelance internet writing.  I have dipped a toe in the inky void, stolen a glance into the shadowy labyrinth, and other semi-connected metaphors that suggest menace and mystery.  I have sipped from the cup… and found it lame.  The term “sellout” is far too gracious, but it is applicable.  Not only is it so boring I may resort to selling my bone marrow just for a change of pace, it pays a rate that I don’t know enough derogatory to fully explain.

Basically it sucks.  But it’s writing so it’s still better than anything else I could be doing.  Except possibly coaching track.  All the other good stuff I’d choose is most definitely writing related.  Hopefully this is just a stopgap until I can find a better writer job.  Though if I sat on a street corner scrawling signs on cardboard for homeless people in exchange for the less moldy half of the unfinished sandwich they just found it would run a very real risk of being better than this.

I complain because it amuses me and most likely Ferret and quite possibly other people.  I am genuinely fortunate to have found anything like this and I will squeeze every drop of water possible from this stone to avoid slipping back down the slope.  And I think I’ve used up my entire metaphor quota for the week in mostly non-continuous strings of ideas so I will move on now.

Cheez-Its and strawberries are, at this moment, the most delicious thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.  Except that one thing that one time.  Since I gave up metaphors I have use hyperbole now.

Instead of music today I’m going to do movie trailers.  Because there are some amazing movies that I want everyone else to hate waiting for with me.

This one is extremely imminent and if it is half as awesome as the trailers make it look, it will blow your mind straight out the back of your head.  So see it with stadium seating or the minds of the people in front of you will get all up in your popcorn and that’s just no good.  Behold, Rocky and Rock ‘em Sock ‘em Robots all rolled in to one, plus Wolverine:

Real Steel October 7, 2011

Here’s another not too far off.  If you didn’t like 300 or Clash of the Titans, you probably won’t like this one.  If you liked either you should check this out.  If you liked them both and thought they both could have done with little more of the other, then you may send your gifts of gratitude directly to me for showing you this:

Immortals November 11, 2011

This franchise has had its ups and downs, and then down a little more.  But I’ve loved it ever since I wandered into the first movie and saw everything I’ve ever wanted from a vampire action movie.  Given it’s a pretty narrow genre, but you put Kate Beckinsale in that outfit and it could be a three hour documentary about a Welsh hermit who makes sculptures out of stale baguettes and I’d still watch it.  Given I’d be paying far more attention to whatever highly contrive component allowed for Kate to be a part of the feature, but I wouldn’t ask too many questions:

Underworld: Awakening January 20, 2012

And last but about six parsecs away from least, we have what is for me the most anticipated franchise reboot since Batman Begins.  There isn’t really much to say about it.  Just watch the trailer and feel the love:

The Amazing Spider-Man July 3, 2012

In case you don’t follow College Humor sketches or don’t understand why the Spider-Man reboot is both essential and hilarious, check this out.

As is the case with most Mondays, choosing a Comic of the Day was tough.  Questionable Content made a fierce bid and since this is the first time they’ve done so since I started being all competitive about it, I put up the link anyway.  But Least I Could Do is the genuine winner because QC’s joke is based on knowing the comic and LICD is just standalone hilarious.  It’s also quite dirty and a touch blasphemous, so beware.

I’m off to rest my poor brain so another day of writing, hopefully with even more writing in it, can begin tomorrow.  Toodles.

Do not meddle in the affairs of dragons for you are crunchy and taste good with ketchup.

“Be pleased with yourself and do not think on the tears your victory has cost.”

Sometimes the only solution available seems like one in which someone you don’t like gets his or her head thumped.  These sort of situations crop up on a daily basis, usually just pesky little things that warrant a minor thumping, something in the flick family even.  On occasion they come stomping and shouting into the middle of your life, kicking aside petty things like interests and amusements and basically becoming the center of your existence with no visible solution.

I’d like to tell you that I’ve found a solution to these kinds of problems, but I haven’t.  That’s just how life goes.  There isn’t always closure.  There isn’t always a happy ending.  No deus ex machina to save the day; no white knight on a fiery steed to do battle with the rising odds.  Too often life turns into a monstrous Gordian Knot, which probably explains why so many people try apply Alexander’s solution to the inappropriately imprecise metaphor.

You can’t start over, you can’t go back to the way things were, you can’t rewrite the past or undo damage done.  There are consequences.  When you start down one road, that’s that.  The difference has been made.  If you don’t like where you are, better luck at the next fork.

If you don’t feel uplifted by that, it’s okay.  That wasn’t the point.  If you don’t feel depressed by that, congratulations.  Nothing has ever gone wrong for you.  And I hate you.

I could be in such a rotten mood for any number of reasons.  Right at this minute I’m going to blame what can only be described as a famine of job opportunities for writers.  I’ve heard there’s some kind of recession going on, so that can’t be helping.  Apparently our country isn’t perfect at handling money.  Who knew.  I would have thought the sky-high education statistics would mean everybody here is a freakin’ investment banker by age 19.  Or it could mean that a frightening portion of our population can barely read, write, or do math beyond finger counting, let alone vote for reasonable laws or worthy government officials.

But voting doesn’t matter, right?  It’s all just a scam by the government to make the people feel like they have some say in their lives.  Big brother is running us all like robots because we’re obviously that coordinated as a nation.  Never mind that the existing welfare system still encourages reproducing at a Leporidaeic rate; industry can’t afford to even survey land for a factory on domestic soil thanks to unions that think it’s reasonable to be paid $35 an hour to perform a job that is apparently so sophisticated it can be handed to someone who literally can’t read or write in any language and doesn’t realize that 7 cents a day is not a living wage; and we promptly deport anyone who comes to this country to learn after spending years educating them at some of the finest universities in the world, presumably so they can go oversee those factories that we have driven to third-world countries with our top-to-bottom greed.

Thanks to semi-colons and a roller-coaster of a day that is both one of the longest and most cynical sentences I have ever written.

What’s more, I’m not even going to do a Comic of the Day today because, like most Sundays, nothing really caught my eye.  So go read my comic and we’ll call it even.

I will however give you music.  In keeping with the overall mood of the day, here is an exceedingly beautiful, exceedingly mellow version of a beloved oldie:

Can’t Help Falling in Love With You by Elvis Presley, cover by Ingrid Michaelson

Recently Matt Nathanson has kind of moved onto the radio, but he’s been around for ages.  This is an older song by his and one of my favorites both for the lyrics and the groovin’ tune:

Hold Me by Matt Nathanson

And with that I’m off to sleep in hopes that tomorrow is a better day.  I’ll tell you about my holdover of a financial opportunity in the midday post.  Until then, sweet dreams.

Work in Progress, Episode 002

Not much more helpful.

It seemed like such a good idea.