So, I'm writing again. I'm sure that'll excite the 2.7 people who remember when I used to post stories here.
I don't think I've had writers block, it's just rare that opportunity and inspiration intersect in my schedule these days. The only reason I'm even writing this week is because I'm recovering from surgery to insert plates in my face. Bad hockey injury, cheekbone broken in three places. Do not recommend.
Anyway, would really appreciate feedback on the prologue I've been work
I've been thinking about getting a tattoo.
That may seem like a strange opening sentence, considering my five-and-a-half year absence from GA, but I guess it'll do. I can always go back and edit it later.
Anyway, back to the tattoo. I've been tossing around the idea of getting a tattoo down my right forearm (my writing hand), with the first line of the very first story that I ever attempted to write on GA. I won't bore you with the details, as I doubt any of you will remember it, but I d
so, my housemate's ex-girlfriend came to visit last night.
she was running early and my housemate was running late, so we ended up hanging out on our own for an hour and a half, watching Back to the Future and having a really intelligent conversation about product placement in Hollywood.
fast forward to now, and my housemate's current girlfriend is sitting on the couch, talking about how funny Will Ferrell is and shouting quotes at the television while watching Step Brothers.
fuck my
so, today is my 25th birthday.
today is also 'R U OK?' Day.
these two facts would be mutually exclusive, except one of my friends inboxed everyone on my Facebook account and told them to ask me 'R U OK?' instead of wishing me a happy birthday.
so now I have 95 wall posts (and counting), all asking if I'm ok.
I also had the following interaction with my mother this morning:
it was somewhat amusing.
anyway, on the writing front, I can happily say that I sat down and pl
so, I'm still alive.
I feel like that's noteworthy, since I've been somewhat low-profile around here lately.
you might remember, two blogs ago, that I was debating whether or not to quit my job and take a different career direction. in particular, I was debating whether or not to turn down an amazing career opportunity with my current employer and chase a boatload more money elsewhere.
heavy shit.
anyway, after a solid week of stroking my beard and pondering the mysteries of t
so, what have I been up to since I got suspended from GA?
well, I went to this:
ate some of this:
watched some of this:
listened to some of this:
and wrote the first 1,000 or so words of a short story that I might need a couple of people to beta-read.
I should be racist more often.
so, I'm quitting my job.
because I hate it?
no.
because I'm bored with it?
no.
lack of opportunity?
no.
then why the hell are you quitting your job?
because of money.
I'm quitting my job because of money, and I feel like the lowest kind of shit for doing so.
to make things worse, I was pulled into a meeting with my department manager yesterday morning (i.e. my big boss), and offered a job setting up all of the accounting processes for the Australian arm of the Lo
so, I was thinking about this new writing idea.
it's nothing all that special, and I probably won't even post it to GA, but I was thinking about doing a series of tongue-in-cheek vignettes based on popular tv shows.
in particular, popular formulaic tv shows. CSI, Criminal Minds, Hot in Cleveland, How I Met Your Mother, that sorta stuff. anything that's cliched or follows the same episode structure every week.
to start you off, this is one I've done for the popular CBS sitcom, Two an
so.......... it's, um, been a while.
six months, in fact.
six months since my last (proper) blog update and...
um...
I've got nothing.
well, that's not entirely true. I've been places, met people, done things, made progress. but still, as I sit and write this...
nothing.
it's like life has settled down and become pleasantly non-descript.
vanilla, even.
it's not chocolate, strawberry, topping or sprinkles; but it's kinda sweet and fulfilling nonetheless.
as
so, Bieber Fever has hit.
like, really hit.
the little f**ker's everywhere!
what started as an unexpected (read: unwanted) surprise on daytime tv last month, has now turned into a full-blown cultural phenomenon. he's #1 on the charts, #1 on Twitter, #1 in little girls' hearts and I'm pretty sure full-grown adults do #1s in their pants every time they hear his pre-pubescent voice.
but, for all the hype and screaming and oh-my-god-he's-so-freaking-cute, Bieber Fever is still a wor
so, I think one of my basketball players is gay.
it's irrelevant, it's stupid, and I feel like a complete and utter retard for actually writing this, but I think one of my basketball players is gay.
it's not like ooh, I hope he's gay, too! no, no, that'd be creepy. it's more like damn kiddo, you're gay as a bag full of butterflies.
consider the evidence: he talks with a lisp; he's really, really, really excitable; he's always jumping on the gymnastics equipment when we're at traini
so, I came out to my friends last night.
I picked up pizza, drove over to my friend Kate's house, and I came out to my friends.
it went something like this:
Me: "um Kate, I have something to tell you."
Kate: "yes, Matt?"
Me: "I just turned down a booty call."
Kate: "YOU WHAT?!?"
Me: "I, ummmm, I just turned down a booty call."
Kate: "what? why?!?"
Me: "ummmm, because..."
Kate: "yeah..."
Me: "I, ummmm... how do I explain this..."
Kate: "go on..."
so, I walk into the office this morning (five minutes late, mind you), and I'm confronted with a couple of new additions...
posters.
on the walls, on the doors, in the halls...
posters.
appparently, the new office manager decided that we didn't look corporate enough, so he's decided to cover every square inch of the office in posters.
posters.
new deli department!
new fruit and veg!
new seafood!
new new new!
and, of course, the corporate logo is promin
So, back in primary school, the word 'sex' was just the funniest thing ever.
In second grade, we used to have these posters on the classroom wall with the word 'Exercise' on them. I used to take great joy in putting the letter 'S' in front of that word, to create a new word: 'Sexercise'. That's right, sexercise. Then, in third grade, when I moved up a grade but stayed in the same classroom, I figured out that I could put the letter 'X' on the end of it and create sexercisex.
Sex.
YEA
so, I still don't have my old laptop.
it's been over a week, and I still can't get access to my up-to-date copy of The Things You Fear The Most.
Gay.
can't get access to my MP3s or tv shows, either.
Gaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyy.
the repair shop screwed up my order, so now they won't have the part I need until Tuesday of next week.
Gay Gay Gay Gay Gayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy.
Gay.
it's not all bad, though. I've written about 10,000 words in the past two weeks, so th
So there's this running joke in my circle of friends:
Facebook = Fight Club.
Because what's the first rule of Fight Club?
YOU DO NOT TALK ABOUT FIGHT CLUB.
So anyway, I go to this party last night, and all this girl wants to talk to me about is Facebook.
Facebook.
Ugh.
Remember, before Facebook, when we used to have actual conversations?
Stupid bitch.
[/end rant]
that's all I have to say.
check out my new story.
Peace.
So, massive tech fail this morning.
Sitting on the computer, reading the overnight news from CNN, and suddenly the computer comes up with a '0% battery' warning. So I double-check the power connection, decide that everything's in order, then go back to reading my morning.
Anyway, two minutes later, the laptop cuts out.
So, in my wisdom, I phone HP tech support. Raj in Kolkata tells me 'I can do a software check, but it will cost you 33 dollars.' I say 'well, the laptop won't turn it
When did Australia stop being the lucky country?
It seems that every morning of late, I turn on the news and hear of some new racially-motivated crime that's taken place in Australia. Bashings, muggings, gang violence, murder. In the last week, we've had two Indian nationals murdered on Australian shores for no other reason than the colour of their skin. Disgusting. But despite the truly vile nature of these hate crimes, Australian police are refusing to acknowledge that these crimes are rac
so, it's a whole new year. a whole new decade, in fact.
wow.
is it really ten years since Y2K? ten years since Malcolm in the Middle? ten years since The White Stripes? ten years since Relationship of Command? ten years since Enema of the State? ten years since Halflway Between the Gutter and the Stars? ten years since 'oh my god, the Olympics are coming to Sydney!'?
jesus christ, it's ten years since Pokemon!
I f**king hated Pokemon.
I still f**king hate Pokemon.
anyway
So there's this Australian politician who yesterday told a press conference that he was molested by his scoutmaster.
(Link here)
Now usually, I would not go anywhere near the subject of child abuse. It's f**ked, it's wrong, and there's an especially fiery place in hell for those who do it. But this guy is the public face of political conservatism, and represents a party whose core political belief is that gay people are second-class citizens.
He's anti-LGBT adoption, he's anti-IVF t
Chapter Six is now plotted and written in its entirety.
Yay!
But there's a catch... it's written entirely in dot points.
Oops.
So now I've got a week to take 3,000 words worth of dot points and turn it into something that's up to my usual lofty (*cough*) standards.
Anyway, since it worked so well for Chapter Six, I'm going to blog a bunch of random dot points today and you can respond as you wish.
- on annual leave until October 6th, and I've got absolutely nothing pla
So I grew up.
Dunno when it happened, but I grew up.
After years of promising myself that I'd turn 23 and devote an entire year to living out Blink 182's What's My Age Again?, I've woken four days after my 23rd birthday and realised that I'm already grown up. A functional, contributing member of society. A fully-fledged adult.
What do I do?
Now I'm scared.
I think I'm gonna have to sit back and have a think about what this means...
