and they called it mandroid love...

So remember when I said the guys over at Star Wars v. Star Trek were going to let me edit their blog? It turns out I'm allowed to write there, too! Check it out!

Image courtesy Botropolis.

slow boat to china

my chinese consulate friend // san francisco

...and by "boat," I mean "very long flight(s)," but you get the idea.

At any rate, it's an announcement fairly long coming, and many (if not most (or maybe all)) of you are already aware of the news, but just to make it official: I'm moving to China for a year. Specifically, Shanghai. So yeah. Color me stoked.

waiting for godot banjo

Counting down the days...

medieval times // more than just dinner + a show

In case you were unaware, renowned historian* Dr. David B. Jaloza, Esq.,** also posts things on the interwebs here, although it should be noted that he does so far more eloquently and informatively than I could ever hope to do. That being said, I've offered my pro bono services as a copy editor, and he has accepted, so as I read through his back catalog of posts, I encourage you to do the same.

Hop to it!

Image borrowed from Loyola University, Chicago, Department of English.

*and by "renowned," I mean "by me" as opposed to "by society."

**Dr. David B. Jaloza, Esq., is neither a doctor, gentleman of noble birth, civil servant, government official, nor practitioner of law.

piss-pots & poets

Just finished reading The Ends of Our Tethers by Alasdair Gray—enormous thanks to Joanne [aka my newly-minted Kimberry] for introducing me to another voice that cuts to the quick as only Scots seem able to do. It's a great read for anyone who enjoys short stories, especially if you have an eye/ear for the at least mildly experimental variety, but the book recommendation is really neither here nor there. After all, that's what Goodreads is for, is it not?

So back to the matter at hand:

cruelty to stuffed animals

I'm having entirely too much fun... but you know what's even more fun??

Sleep!

no, really...

...the dog totally ate my homework.

if you're thinking of reading this post...

I've been thinking a lot about High Fidelity recently... which isn't saying much, given that it's more likely than not a statistical impossibility to pinpoint a time when I haven't been thinking a lot about High Fidelity for one reason or another. But I digress.

At present, the reason I keep coming back to my favorite lines/scenes from the book/movie centers on the Hornbyian wisdom that "it's not what you're like, but what you like" that really matters in the grand scheme of things.

blah...

...is pretty much all I have to say on the subject at the moment.

Q: What subject?

A: Who cares?

Which brings us back to: Blah...

Just finished putting the "free" in "freelance," writing some stuff for 944 on the pro bono tip. And I really need to go and brainstorm for my next project... which I had goddamned-well better finish. Because I never really finish anything I start. Plague of my generation, or is it just me? Probably a little from column A, a great deal more from column B, but I digress...

don quixote, eat your heart out

forever fighting windmills...

...sorry. Things had gotten altogether too "texty" around here. Chalk it up to more of me and my apparently infinite amount of slackage.

This break to the visual monotony, brought to you by Telegraph Avenue.

Ladies & gentlemen of la mancha, g'night!

you win this round, pearson...

Thanks to the persistence of one man (you may or may not know him by the name Juan Canadilla, but that's another story for another day), I'm posting again. It's one of two assignments I've completed for my online fiction class, but I'm too lazy to post both at the moment... not to mention tired. I've spent the better part of my post-9-to-5 day battling writer's block to beat a freelance PR project into submission... hopefully successfully, but there's no knowing that until tomorrow. And now I'm rambling (inarticulately at that), but I really just couldn't care less. So.

Yeah.

The assignment: Write 5 opening lines for the same story. The idea being that each should be a totally unique line, not just a variation or minor alteration of its predecessor.

the bold & the biographical

No matter how old I get, I don't think I'll ever get over the rush of excitement that accompanies the first day of school!

Well, ok... so I'm not technically matriculating anywhere, but my 10-week online fiction workshop started today, & I. Am. STOKED!!

First assignment: Submit a bio, 500 words or less. Given that we're immersed in a virtual classroom, it's a logical exercise to foster a sense of community (blah blah educational buzzword blah).

fast forward :: future flights

Like any red-blooded American, I'm a sucker for a sale. And Southwest played me like a cheap, cheap fiddle...

$145 for a roundtrip flight to Denver, Colo.? Sign me up!

So, in honor of my impending trip to the 303, I present you with some 3OH!3:

fallen soldier, revisited

When first we met, our once proud street sign, which had raised high the roof beam of parking regulations for carpenters, Zone 2 District residents, and visitors alike, lay limp and ineffectual beside a small pile of busted brick—disrupted earth in the wake of a rude de-rooting of natural flora.

And now, joined by his disgarded xmas tree brethren. Scrap metal and firewood that will never realize their innate potential.

Triple sadness.

arguing semantics

Ever notice that the only difference between "machismo" and "masochism" is an extra S?

Just throwing it out there...

fallen soldier

Sadness.

big up, lil' buddha

Yeah, I don't know either.