The Unswung Bat

Monday, January 17, 2005
The Cheat is Not Dead

I submit to you, what I did this morning.

Table 0-T7: What are you gonna do when you graduate (d20)
  1. Die of Starvation.

  2. 1d6+2 kobolds burst from hiding and attack (Double treasure).

  3. Basically watch TV for eight months.

  4. Plastics.

  5. Combine the awesome powers of the 20th century's six greatest Steves (Allen, Martin, King, Seagal, Sondheim and Soderbergh). Conquer universe.

  6. Lutheran missionary work in Vatican city.

  7. Retributive Strike.

  8. Visit Japan, Thailand, India, and the Cantonese and Szechuan regions of China to see if their respective cuisines really do taste better in Toronto.

  9. Locate, and piss on, the graves of all the great tyrants I can think of.

  10. Coupon reseller.

  11. Write technical manuals, read a lot of escapist fiction, dream am character in said fiction, not be one.

  12. Found cult (preq: Cha12+, Leadership feat) premised on notion that works of Shakespeare actually authored by Kevin Bacon, go out in utterly pointless blaze of glory.

  13. Enlist and ship into Iraq, or wherever.

  14. Left-wing druggie beatnik freak.

  15. In dusty trunk in attic, find Bag of Holding containing Orb of Dragonkind. Colossal White Wyrm attacks.

  16. Adopt moniker of Elbus, Chronicler of the Paranormal, exploit weak-minded cows on tv phone-in show.

  17. Jedi Knight. Definitely Jedi Knight.

  18. Bake Pies, Eat Pies.

  19. Somehow be rich, drink gin, smoke cigars.

  20. Roll twice, combine results without use of pronouns, conjunctions, or commas (Ex: Go Iraq bake pies eat lots pies.)

Also I went swimming although technically that was after noon. I am at work, Marge. This is what I do. Move along now, this isn't a parking lot. So should I be trying harder (consistently, rather than in panicked spurts) in school and spending less time on silly crap? Probably yes, Jimmy-Jimmy.

I am provisionally back to writing, on my Incredible Machine - A Silver-Reed Silverette typewriter that, when not being used to write with, just sits there, thereby one-upping this timesink of a laptop. I'm perennially building elaborate fictions in my head, featuring dozens of human beings who pass through or stay, but I'm loathe to do the finalizing, fleshing-out work of actually putting these on paper. Well that stops now, or at least decelerates. It's not without good cause that so many writers go by the saying that a writer writes, preferably every day.

The beginnings of Chris's stories are always awesome, this one especially so. Anyone else know of any fictionesque blogs out there? Like, good ones? And also neon lightspeed rollerskates to fantasia like this, of course of course. If you do, that's what the guestbook's for.

Gotta go now, got things to do.

PS: I typed this entry out from handwritten, so it only took like 20 minutes. When I started the sky was kind of hazy. 15 minutes into it I looked out the window and suddenly it was snowing so heavily I could hardly see across the yard: big, crowding cyclones of puffy flakes dancing like some kid just dropped the snowglobe on the couch. Five minutes after that I looked out again and not only was the snowfall gone, but outdoors it was so clear it hurt me to look. I can still see the image of a tree, its black dendrons burned into my retinas by a crystal-blue atomic backlight of bright winter sky, and it's been almost half an hour. I might have to learn to live with this.

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