ROUTINE.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Monday, January 25, 2010
short ZOMBIE fiction ( hey, this seems familiar!! ) episode one.
We are not a government agency, Goddamnitt!
But, we are employed by a conglomerate of corporate interests that have ties to government projects. You know, people that could be seriously fucked if the legal hammer ever drops on this thing.
Unsanctioned testing with human subjects.
Biological weapons so far in the black that even mentioning the name of said weapons would get your throat cut by an unseen C.I.A. spook.
The contamination of an entire south eastern town, population a little less than 20,000.
Yeah, we aren't here to help. We are just here to make sure that evidence of any involvement by those corporate interests gets destroyed before the official investigation gets under way. Our employers are paying handsomely for their continued anonymity.
Problem is, our team is about to wade through almost 20,000 seriously fucked up citizens to get to an underground facility that has been sealed off from the inside and our employers are being very tight lipped about whats inside that facility.
They are taking a "find out when you get there" kind of strategy with this operation.
Get inside.
Plant the charges.
Get out and make your way to the evacuation site where a company BLACKHAWK will arrive once the signal is sent from your CELL-LINK.
It would be a fucking cake walk if there weren't all those flesh eating Zombies to worry about.
I don't think I'm going to live through this job. But I go where the team goes, no questions asked.
But, we are employed by a conglomerate of corporate interests that have ties to government projects. You know, people that could be seriously fucked if the legal hammer ever drops on this thing.
Unsanctioned testing with human subjects.
Biological weapons so far in the black that even mentioning the name of said weapons would get your throat cut by an unseen C.I.A. spook.
The contamination of an entire south eastern town, population a little less than 20,000.
Yeah, we aren't here to help. We are just here to make sure that evidence of any involvement by those corporate interests gets destroyed before the official investigation gets under way. Our employers are paying handsomely for their continued anonymity.
Problem is, our team is about to wade through almost 20,000 seriously fucked up citizens to get to an underground facility that has been sealed off from the inside and our employers are being very tight lipped about whats inside that facility.
They are taking a "find out when you get there" kind of strategy with this operation.
Get inside.
Plant the charges.
Get out and make your way to the evacuation site where a company BLACKHAWK will arrive once the signal is sent from your CELL-LINK.
It would be a fucking cake walk if there weren't all those flesh eating Zombies to worry about.
I don't think I'm going to live through this job. But I go where the team goes, no questions asked.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
oh god, its so hard.....
get your mind out of the gutter.
My mind is grinding and the gears have all but stopped. I try and write, but its hard. For some reason the words aren't coming and the frustration is mounting and I am almost in tears as I hold my head in my hands and think, think, and think some more.......
goddamnitt! again and again and again, over and over and over......
like i have said before, i just want to enjoy writing. I have put the dreams that i had as a teenager aside and settled into the fact that a career in the story telling field just isn't realistic for a 32 year old boy like myself and now I just want to write to entertain myself, because video games get boring if you play them non stop and I do have some ideas that i chuckle at from time to time and want to record for posterity.
the fun just isn't coming.
I usually write longhand, in a notebook, and then type out and edit from there onto a laptop. when using a pencil and paper, things come out smooth and easy without strain or blockage. but, when I sit down at the keyboard, I get constipated, sweat forms on my brow and tears well up as I push and heave, gripping the sides of my computer when I try to copy what I have already written.
Is it stress?
Am I gun shy when things get technical and i have to make things sound proper and pretty? thinking of structure and form.
spelling and flow.
I just want everything to ease out in a compact and odorless way. I want to finish my movement and sigh with relief...............
I guess this problem just comes more and more as you get older. I'm sure that a more creative mind has it's ways of staying regular, but not mine. I just clog it up with unhealthy and junkie material that my brain has no business trying to digest.
guess I'll just have to flush out my system more often.
a rush of cooling, cleansing water through my brains dookie shoot would probably do the trick.
My mind is grinding and the gears have all but stopped. I try and write, but its hard. For some reason the words aren't coming and the frustration is mounting and I am almost in tears as I hold my head in my hands and think, think, and think some more.......
goddamnitt! again and again and again, over and over and over......
like i have said before, i just want to enjoy writing. I have put the dreams that i had as a teenager aside and settled into the fact that a career in the story telling field just isn't realistic for a 32 year old boy like myself and now I just want to write to entertain myself, because video games get boring if you play them non stop and I do have some ideas that i chuckle at from time to time and want to record for posterity.
the fun just isn't coming.
I usually write longhand, in a notebook, and then type out and edit from there onto a laptop. when using a pencil and paper, things come out smooth and easy without strain or blockage. but, when I sit down at the keyboard, I get constipated, sweat forms on my brow and tears well up as I push and heave, gripping the sides of my computer when I try to copy what I have already written.
Is it stress?
Am I gun shy when things get technical and i have to make things sound proper and pretty? thinking of structure and form.
spelling and flow.
I just want everything to ease out in a compact and odorless way. I want to finish my movement and sigh with relief...............
I guess this problem just comes more and more as you get older. I'm sure that a more creative mind has it's ways of staying regular, but not mine. I just clog it up with unhealthy and junkie material that my brain has no business trying to digest.
guess I'll just have to flush out my system more often.
a rush of cooling, cleansing water through my brains dookie shoot would probably do the trick.
AMC Approves "Walking Dead" Pilot - Comic Book Resources
AMC Approves "Walking Dead" Pilot - Comic Book Resources
this makes me happy.
if AMC does this as well as they do MAD MEN, holy shit. And, Frank Darabont ( the mist, shawshank redemption.....) has written the script for the pilot!
i just had an orgasm of the geek gland!!
![](file:///C:/Users/KINGSM%7E1/AppData/Local/Temp/moz-screenshot.png)
this makes me happy.
if AMC does this as well as they do MAD MEN, holy shit. And, Frank Darabont ( the mist, shawshank redemption.....) has written the script for the pilot!
i just had an orgasm of the geek gland!!
![](file:///C:/Users/KINGSM%7E1/AppData/Local/Temp/moz-screenshot.png)
![](file:///C:/Users/KINGSM%7E1/AppData/Local/Temp/moz-screenshot-1.png)
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
i wrote elsewhere today......
I can't seem to type out my longhand from my notebook. When it's on the laptop screen it looks all wrong and I self edit to the point of frustration.
goddamnitt!
I'll never get anywhere like this.
I would love to make a living at writing. But, at this point I just want to enjoy it.
goddamnitt!
I'll never get anywhere like this.
I would love to make a living at writing. But, at this point I just want to enjoy it.
Monday, January 18, 2010
its not good, but this counts!!!!
required words for the day. ( I know this isn't very good, I understand that. But, as I have already stated in the description for this blog: as long as I write something. the quality doesn't really matter, its all about habit. i just want to get into the habit of writing everyday so that i can get better. even if I just ramble on in some way or another, its okay.)
( no one is going to read this shit anyway. )
Dealing with my invalid father is always fun and cathartic.
Emptying a colostomy and catheter bag allows me to finally bond with the man who, for most of my life, was hardly even a presence. His recent need for constant care has given me the kind of father/son relationship that I missed as a child. Now, more than ever, I feel like I'm getting to know the old man.
I was raised by my mother, grandmother and aunt. The only male authority figure i had back then was an Uncle, but he was a complete asshole who had no idea how to relate to children.
My father was always sick, both physically and mentally. I realize now that I could have grown to be a completely different person, had it not been for my fathers health. This used to bother me. But now I'm thankful.
One of the many things that would be different, had he been around more when i was age 5-14, would be sports.
At age 32 i can honestly say that i couldn't give a fuck about sports. I don't care which because my hatred for sports is all encompassing.
My father and I would have probably tossed the football around in the backyard. He would have taken me to baseball games, basketball games and other sporting events. My fondness for art, movies, books and pop culture would have been replaced with an enthusiasm for watching large, sweaty men chase each other around a field or court holding balls of various shapes and sizes. Or worst case scenario, I would be down on that field or court with those very same men and their balls.
Now, I realize there may be more to my whole sports loathing than just my dad not spending time with me. Maybe people develop a love for competitive athletic showdowns without the aid of a father figure, I really don't know. But, my girlfriend's father used to spend time with her by going to watch CLEMSON play, and she used to sit in the stands while he played softball at the local civic center. Now, at age 30, she watches college football and Major League Baseball in an almost religious way. So I am going to stick with my theory, for now.
So, thanks Dad. Because of your inability to be a proper parent I don't feel the need to watch men play with their balls.
As the smell of fecal matter and my wasted youth float by my nostrils, I understand that this is where i am needed.
Regardless of my grand aspirations and dreams, I have to be here for the sake of my father. At least, as I said before, I'm getting to know the old bastard.
( no one is going to read this shit anyway. )
Dealing with my invalid father is always fun and cathartic.
Emptying a colostomy and catheter bag allows me to finally bond with the man who, for most of my life, was hardly even a presence. His recent need for constant care has given me the kind of father/son relationship that I missed as a child. Now, more than ever, I feel like I'm getting to know the old man.
I was raised by my mother, grandmother and aunt. The only male authority figure i had back then was an Uncle, but he was a complete asshole who had no idea how to relate to children.
My father was always sick, both physically and mentally. I realize now that I could have grown to be a completely different person, had it not been for my fathers health. This used to bother me. But now I'm thankful.
One of the many things that would be different, had he been around more when i was age 5-14, would be sports.
At age 32 i can honestly say that i couldn't give a fuck about sports. I don't care which because my hatred for sports is all encompassing.
My father and I would have probably tossed the football around in the backyard. He would have taken me to baseball games, basketball games and other sporting events. My fondness for art, movies, books and pop culture would have been replaced with an enthusiasm for watching large, sweaty men chase each other around a field or court holding balls of various shapes and sizes. Or worst case scenario, I would be down on that field or court with those very same men and their balls.
Now, I realize there may be more to my whole sports loathing than just my dad not spending time with me. Maybe people develop a love for competitive athletic showdowns without the aid of a father figure, I really don't know. But, my girlfriend's father used to spend time with her by going to watch CLEMSON play, and she used to sit in the stands while he played softball at the local civic center. Now, at age 30, she watches college football and Major League Baseball in an almost religious way. So I am going to stick with my theory, for now.
So, thanks Dad. Because of your inability to be a proper parent I don't feel the need to watch men play with their balls.
As the smell of fecal matter and my wasted youth float by my nostrils, I understand that this is where i am needed.
Regardless of my grand aspirations and dreams, I have to be here for the sake of my father. At least, as I said before, I'm getting to know the old bastard.
YouTube - Kick-Ass Red Band Trailer - Coming soon 16th April 2010.
YouTube - Kick-Ass Red Band Trailer - Coming soon 16th April 2010.
BAD WORDS AND SUPER HEROES are always entertaining. Even if the movie is bad, at least you have an 11 year old girl dropping the C-word.
BAD WORDS AND SUPER HEROES are always entertaining. Even if the movie is bad, at least you have an 11 year old girl dropping the C-word.
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