Not signed in (Sign In)
  1.  (3394.1)
    Saturday Night Open Mic: it is time for the ghost monkeys behind your eyes to speak their brains.

    For those newcomers who don't know the drill, Saturday Night Open Mic is for venting, posing, talking about your future, and enumerating the many and vile ways in which you love me.

    Tell me what and who is pissing you off this week. Explain to me why the world is shit. Confess your sins. Get something off your chest. Tell me a plan. Tell me what's in your head. I want to know. On Saturday nights I am your ear and your confessor and your audience.

    I am also drinking and locked in a small room with you.

    Tell me something filthy, strange and wonderful. Tell me of new things, or old secrets. Thrill me, chill me, fulfil me, creatures of the night.

    Remember, pictures are good, for I am senile and don't always remember all 4000 of you freakbabies.

    Speak to me now. I am Internet Jesus, your personal Invisible Space Daddy, and I love you all.

    Yes. In that way.
    • CommentTimeAug 23rd 2008 edited
    I'm pissed off, really pissed off, because I'm 100% sure they won't let Obama be elected (and I swear I'm not a global conspiration freak)

    I'm fucking upset because my country's legislation will never allow me to adopt kids because I'm a fag; and I'm getting old, and I feel like a sterile mare.
    • CommentTimeAug 23rd 2008
    i just came home from holiday, i will not see my mother again until this time next year, on the plane home i caught pleb-lurgy and am now ill.

    the only sleep i got was on the floor of amsterdam airport being stared at by fat dutchmen.

    i am angry and ill. the fuckers who i ordered a curry from came an hour late.

    i NEED to stop failing and start moving forward.

    also how fucking terrible is Smallville?
    • CommentTimeAug 23rd 2008
    This is the first open mic I've been able to post on for weeks, which is fortunate as I'm housesitting for friends and I think the novelty is just started to wear off.

    Anyway, plans? Well, I've just become an Uncle, which feels very nice so far. I actually get to meet the sprog next week, which I'm looking forward to. It also serves as a great oportunity to set my Uncle Plan in place, starting by giving her the painting I did for her. Hopefully she'll like it, once she's old enough. Because that's a plan, now. I need to be a cool uncle - a spinner of yarns, a teacher of tricks, a bringer of gifts from strange lands, a lender of advice and all that other good stuff. Should be fun.
    • CommentTimeAug 23rd 2008
    I finished my first short story since October, and it felt fine. It was about two naked people.

    No picture tonight; I look sloppy.
    • CommentTimeAug 23rd 2008
    I'm tired of getting shortlisted in jobs but not getting the damn jobs. Feedback so far has included: I do not make constant eye contact during interviews (um, a) I make eye contact and b) is it just me, or is constant eye contact kind of creepy?) and I don't have enough commercial law experience. Quite how I'm suppose to get more experience when I can't get hired because of my supposed lack of experience, I don't quite know. And it's not like corp law is massively different to the Bar, from a librarian pov. But hey. I'm just sending my CV out into the ether now and something will happen because fuck it, I have l33t skillz and am awesome, dammit!

    Finally got the last of the essays for my MSc. in today - I missed the original deadlines when my uncle passed away suddenly in April and so was allowed to retake them as if it was the first time - which is a fucking weight off my shoulders. Tomorrow I go corset shopping because I have the chance to be an extra in Amanda Palmer's next video and my other half and I are hitting Torture Garden in Brighton in a couple weeks time, both of which totally justify the purchase of a shiny new corset, dammit.

    I plan to poke my life and 2008 sharply in the squishy bits until they start behaving in a manner I feel is far more suitable for me.

    self-portrait (August)
    • CommentTimeAug 23rd 2008
    From Zombie Walk, care of my talented friend Gerald Deo:

    The world is shit because the idiots are winning , the Canadian Liberal party is a bunch of weak-willed poltroons, and Stephen Harper will hold power until the sun goes out. Also because Obama is polling even with McCain. How is that possible?

    The world is wonderful because I get to go to two comics shows with a pretty girl this weekend, I was out at a ridiculous bar last night watching a small, bald man with a hint of a Irish accent hold a pool table for three hours straight, I finally found some good dance music for my show at Hush in three weeks, I had leftover lamb for breakfat, and it's sunny.

    My plans involve taking 7 classes at the University of Victoria and trying not to die. Heaven help me.
      CommentAuthorBexx B.S.
    • CommentTimeAug 23rd 2008 edited
    just woke up from a long night of being drunk on southern comfort - it seems to be my poison of late.

    Obama! Stuck in a CLAW MACHINE!

    that was @ a Denny's. There was no way he was getting out, as he was jammed in there pretty tight.
    • CommentTimeAug 23rd 2008

    Torture Garden? Heh, I'll be at that! I'll be the beardy guy in the labcoat and collar!
    • CommentTimeAug 23rd 2008
    Tell me what and who is pissing you off this week.
    Stuff. And things. Yes, I'm being that specific tonight.

    Explain to me why the world is shit.
    Nescafe haven't invented Instant FuckBuddy; just add water.

    Confess your sins.
    Because I can write reports for work all day (today, that is) and the words flow like water... and then I try to write fiction tonight for the first time in ages... and it's shit.

    Get something off your chest.
    I know the old line about "anyone who wants to run for office should be barred from doing so", but why have British politicians never nailed that line between "enjoying the job" and "being a smug bastard"? Seriously - either they look like they're chewing a wasp... or they look like they're doing us a favour deigning to talk to us.

    Tell me a plan.
    Work. I never said it was a good plan.

    Tell me what's in your head. I want to know.
    Very boring stuff. Work stuff. You don't want to know.

    Picture? If you insist. Me, five mins ago:
  2.  (3394.11)
    Tell me what and who is pissing you off this week.

    Midwest cops are pissing me off this week. They randomly pull over people and harass them about drug trafficking. I was a victim of this arrogance about ten years ago and a couple of my good friends traveling this past week were subject to the same thing. I tell you; If you have to travel through any state from North Dakota to Texas here in the States, you almost have to be ready for a fucking cavity search.

    Tell me a plan.

    Hopefully by this time tomorrow I will create an album cover for a band that does not exist, complete with folding center. I think the band-name will be 'Chemotherapy Brothers'. Wish me luck...

    I am also drinking and locked in a small room with you.

    What are you drinking? Can I have some?

    A picture for the guy as old as me...

    And just in case you missed the Onion this week...
    • CommentTimeAug 23rd 2008
    @curb - awesome! I'll keep an eye out. I'll be probably wandering around as a 1940s style dominatrix, retro kink and all. May or may not have my other half on his leash (which, you know, at TG, narrows it down so much, heh.) depending on his outfit choice.
    • CommentAuthoroR.hal
    • CommentTimeAug 23rd 2008 edited
    A picture for the Master :

    What's new? The fact of the week is that I will receive Mr Ben Templesmith in my bookstore, in Paris, France, this september.
    //happy !!!

    And... I have to tell that I'm sorry, Warren. Once again.
    • CommentTimeAug 23rd 2008
    This weekend is Fan Expo, the big honkin' comic convention of the year in Toronto. Through the magic of Twitter, I managed to connect with Oneiros. It went kind of like this:

    Oneiros: "Hey, are you coming to Fan Expo?"
    Elana: "Yes and I'll be wearing my brand new No Hero t-shirt, bitchezzzzz"
    Oneiros: "I'll be rocking the Freakangels t-shirt"
    Elana: "OPEN MIC THREAD"

    He came up to my store's booth at the show and just pointed to his t-shirt, and I was like, "Are you...???!!" and he was like, "Yes!!" and I scrambled out of the booth and got my coworker to snap a photo.

    It was awesome. Whitechapel/Twitter/Reality crossover events are like way better than comics crossovers.

    He also gave me two Freakangels temporary tattoos that his friend gave him from SDCC, so I'm very excited to feature them in next month's Self Portrait imagethread.

    This is us looking fabulously dorky under terribly unflattering overhead con lights:
    me and Leo
    (taken with my iPhone by my friend Alec)

    We were obviously the coolest people there. Or at least we won the Best Walking Billboards Award.

    Thanks for being the highlight of my Friday, Oneiros! Although I was probably not the highlight of his, since he was actually a visitor and not an exhibitor and was able to do much more fun things, like meet Matt Fraction. I would have loved to confess my auditory wide-on for Steven Jay Blum's voice to him, he was there (voice actor for Spike Spiegel of Cowboy Bebop), but I just couldn't get away from the booth long enough to line up for any of the guests. I was also kind of jonesing to tell Samwise Gamgee that I loved and trusted him even when he was playing a procedural jackass in 24. And tell Brent Spiner that he played an essential role in my childhood. But oh well. I'm mostly happy that I didn't pass out from lack of sleep and hunger while hauling boxes of junk around concrete floors for twelve hours.
  3.  (3394.15)
    in wasting air
  4.  (3394.16)
    The world is shit in its usual way - the Doug Adams "despite all the cool stuff we've made, we're still stupid monkeys" kind of way, you know. There are probably some more reasons, but I've actually nailed most of my task list for the day, and so

      1 - haven't been outside much
      2 - haven't read much news on the web
      3 - am generally in a reasonable mood

    The joys of the creative/part-freelance life aside, I've discovered that working fifteen hours a day seven days a week (with sporadic breaks for drinking and loud music) keeps me too busy to contemplate the fact that I'm bloody lonely. It's like a positive Catch-22.

    But hey - this time next week I'll be in Berlin, which is going to be righteous. If anyone has any recommendations for some good low-culture haunts - I'm thinking bars, loud gigs, non-gallery art, interesting people, mad scenes, that sort of thing - I'd appreciate some tips.
  5.  (3394.17)
    I seem to be about to enact a coup-de-etat at work without meaning to do it. I am the Accidental Napoleon.

    Best-friend-and-now-housemate is down shore this weekend, and I could've gone with, but demonic female hormones have massed on the borders of my brain with tanks and bombs and are forcing me to stay home and nest. I just vacuumed the stairs. There are a lot of them, and they are covered in cat hair. Well, not so much, anymore. Also is laundry, and finding somewhere to stick a bunch of contractor equipment so we aren't tripping over it in the foyer, and trying to figure out how to fit all of her booze & bar stuff and all of my booze & bar stuff in a credenza that wasn't even big enough to fit hers in the first place. This looks like a job for SCIENCE!~ Or perhaps a drunken debauch that would make hardened libertines blanch and quake.

    When, O when will my libido return from hiding? Heal me, Internet Jesus!

    One of the cats, usually a very froward alpha boy, has been very quiet and withdrawn the last day or so and is mostly just sitting in the (clean) litterbox looking unhappy. I'm worried about him, and we'll probably have to take him to the vet Monday when they're open. Here's a picture of him with his more usual attitude:
  6.  (3394.18)
    Moving is grand, packing is shit.

    I am now exactly one week from quitting a truly crap job in rural Northern California to move to San Jose without much in the way of a plan. My wife is down there now teaching theater and making arrangements while it is my job to enclose our lives in cardboard.

    I've been at it for two weeks, but tonight is not the night for packing, it is a night for sitting on the floor in my living room, drinking an entire bottle of red-wine and playing bioshock.

    Presently I am trapped at work, filled with bile and hangover and trying to write a soft feature about a public art dedication without it coming off as too snide. I have about an hours worth of work to do and an eight-hour shift to do it in. This is fail.

    I've been taking my writing incrementally, this week has been for working on clever dialogue, something I have never been great at (damn you Sorkin!) I honestly think I'm getting better, but I'm not sure I'de really be able to tell.

    I'm having recurring dreams about hurling one of my coworkers across the room and then dashing his head against the ground like you would a baby. I'm wondering if this is errant frustration leaking into my subconscious or a portent of the future.

    I wonder how fast I can make it to the county line?

  7.  (3394.19)
    I have cake, and a sun tan, and one of my best friends is 90% sure to move right next door. This means we could connect our yards and buy a goat.
      CommentAuthorCameron C.
    • CommentTimeAug 23rd 2008
    All I want to do is write but all I do is go to my minimum wage retail job where I make just as much as other people who don't show up as often as I do. When I come home to my apartment where, I sleep in the living room while my two roommates enjoy their own privacy, all I really want to do is fall on the floor and sleep.

    Thankfully, most nights I forgo sleep and actually DO write and draw (Horribly), while a good movie plays in the background or while I have some great music playing (Or, more often then not, old time radio shows playing!). Sure, my constant lack of sleep makes my shitty minimum wage job even shittier, but if I keep writing and drawing eventually I won't need that shitty job. At least, that's what I tell myself.