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Jul. 16th, 2017

Expunginginging!

Don't cry for me, Sargento Cheeses!

Keeping my account open for posterioty.

Aug. 30th, 2015

The Sky Watches.

It is 11:22.

Nothing has changed. We have the roof covered in a tarp because they haven't fixed it. It will stay covered so long as the wind doesn't blow from the east because they didn't nail it at the bottom. Stunningly stupid, no?

Haven't written in 2 days. Just been puttering around, editing here and there. Sucks powerfully.

Gotta do laundry.
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Aug. 26th, 2015

I'm Back, Bitches!

Did you miss me?

The bad shit is finally over. For now. I am no longer sick, just having allergic reactions every now and then. Being sick really kicked off my depression and I was borderline there for a while. I mean, oh, look, a bus *jumps* kinda bad. When you can't breathe, your house is being torn apart, your water gets shut off, and situation is only getting worse, depression will come along and smother you with a fucking pillow.

Been writing again, I am up to over 7000 words of my novel so far and it looks to be staying. I like what I have so far. It's good, well written, it flows nicely, and the plot is being carried well. I don't want it to feel like it is dragging while I finishing setting up the place. Gotta be careful about that. I figure I will introduce other characters, show why the main character is a bit of a nutter, flesh out his world while I put things into place.

The plot is based on an old SGA prompt I wrote. Spooky shit. I think you'll like what I came up with, though. Interested, drop me a line all you no one out there who is reading this.
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Aug. 14th, 2015

To You And Me.

Writing on my scifi novel has stalled a little a I try to figure out how to integrate ghost ships into my plot. It's going to be a little tricky, but the idea will work so well with the overall plot. I love being able to write again.

They got the cabinets in the kitchen tore out and a new floor put in their place, but the roof still leaks. Sucks powerfully, Huck.

Now, onto something informative...

Yeah. I got nothin'. I'm going to watch some married with children and simpsons. I need my anti-depressants if I'm going to get back to writing.
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Aug. 10th, 2015

You can't stop the rain.

But apparently, when it does, it won't come back. I was okay with that a couple days ago. Now, I need some typical florida rain. 20 minute downpour, then bright and sunny the rest of the day. Fucking August, man.

Mum and dad have decided, if mum loses her job, we're moving back to Winter Haven. Things aren't looking too good at her work. She has a new boss and the company is in the middle of growth problems. They expanded to the United States without a proper plan, no knowledge of what US regulations were like, and a woman who was complete shit at her job, let alone as the production manager. They demoted her ass, but then put all the stress of running 2 struggling companies plus their one solid company on my mom's former boss until she quit. Top it off, the new contract they had my mum sign included experience and education qualifications she doesn't have on top of forcing her to do things her old boss used to do but never told my mum even existed. Why? Because it wasn't my mum's job...until now. The new boss is coming tomorrow and shit is going to be tossed around and this woman is learning more and more she was deceived about what she would be doing herself. The main problem with this company is that they lack personnel, number two, they lack qualified personnel filling the positions they have. Mum is learning, she's learned a lot and is getting shit done better than they have any right to expect. It is the production manager and his staff who aren't doing their jobs. They would rather stand around and bullshit rather than do what they are supposed to because there is no one making them do their jobs, then, when shit hits the fan, try to pin it on my mum. They are actually trying to get out of doing their job and throw more responsibilities on her, and she can't even get done what she has because of other jobs they successfully placed on her. She has to track down shipment information that purchasing should have gotten. It's her job to confirm shit, but how can you confirm shit you don't have?

On top of dealing with the remodel, I think I'm sick. Either that or I've got the worst case of chemical burns in my lungs. Even the smell of something strong is making me cough or wheeze. Feeling flushed at times, but cool to the touch is not nice. Throw in dizziness, headaches, dry sinuses that will drip from time to time, I definitely think I am sick. Bronchial tubes hurt! SUCKS! Walking Pneumonia fits. Sucks son, sucks powerfully.
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Aug. 7th, 2015

So That Ended...Well...

John Stewart did his final episode last night. There is no longer a Late Night talkshow I watch with any regularity. It feels like part of my life is done.

You know, it doesn't bother me. It's done. What got me was when Colbert went off last December. I still catch my breath when I think about the fact it's over too.

So much history is now gone. When they inevitably cancel the simpsons, I just might stop watching tv all together.
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Aug. 5th, 2015

Open The Sky.

The sun came out and stayed out all day, finally. It was nice to be able to interact with my birds, feeding them and letting them out. I got to change their pool water. For a change, it was almost a relief to do it. Unfortunately, one of my birds hasn't come back sometime in the past week. I don't know what happened, but it's gone. Oh well.

That is all.
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Aug. 4th, 2015

How Spunky Is Your Chicken?

Not much to report today. Still writing and still stuck here.

Nothing like seeing a supposedly inclusive ad that doesn't feature anyone that you can identify with. If I don't feel like you want my business, but you are supposedly targeting me, your model has failed. Focusing on the stereotype only works for a small margin, then you start alienating the rest of us. So long, farewell, kiss my ass, goodbye.

I love Windows 10. The minefield that was windows 8 and 8.1 is gone. GONE! My only problem is the message center thinks everything that happens is news and must desperately inform me. I can't turn off the notification for everytime my external harddrive reboots/reconnects. So, I put notifications in silent mode. I like the notifications center, but seeing the dialogue box symbol lit up just for the damn harddrive is annoying.

I miss Sfulton.
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Aug. 3rd, 2015

No Great Study.

I am writing again, what am I doing? It doesn't feel like it should work, but I'm not really caring. I'm tired of everything I write being wrong or not good enough. Fuck it. I am going to write it, edit for flow and grammar, then post to sell. I'm too old for the ansty bullshit.

Scifi is turning out to be far easier to write, but the problem I keep running up against is terms for computers. UGH, save me from Console/Stations. There are only so many ways you can use it.
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Aug. 2nd, 2015

Welcome To August.

Found a bunch of my old works on AO3 and I am posting them on
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Found a bunch of my old works on AO3 and I am posting them on <lj-user="multi_fiction">. It feels good to be posting stuff again, even if it is almost 4 years old. I was once able to finish shit.

Wrote a piece for my nephew last night. 1108 words without title and references in less than 90 minutes. It was coherent and properly structured. It's solid B work. I am impressed that I was able to do so much in such a short time. That less than 90 minutes included looking up shit, reading articles, watching videos, finding music files I felt appropriate for writing the article because I always need mood music.

Been listening to songs from the Star Trek TNG soundtrack. I love Jay Chattaway's music. His was some of the most emotive and beautiful. It works well with my science fiction novel as I write it, when I write it.
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Jul. 31st, 2015

Not caring.

3 6 9, the monkey on the line.

No writing done today. Hoping to get some done tomorrow. Off to sleep.

There's been no responses to my posting on tumblr. Guess my old fic isn't their cup of tea. Oh well.
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Jul. 30th, 2015

I'm Not Your Mudder.

The roof is still leaking in the bedroom and the bathroom. We have a bucket in the bedroom. Lovely.

I love my Gaga.

Waiting for Windows 10 to download because I have nothing better to do. Writing is not coming to me tonight. Lovely.

So tired of being so god damned poor and broke. Need to go shopping this weekend and pick up some cat food.
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Jul. 28th, 2015

I Am The Goat That Never Lies.

Getting started on a new fic is hard. I want to write so many different stories, and they are all so intriguing to my mind. I feel alive with my fantasy life. Which is good, because my RL is boring as hell.

I take care of my chickens and do house work, people, I need something. Don't look at me that way.
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Jul. 27th, 2015

Listen up, Queen.

It takes skill and finesse to be a good queen if you want to ascend the throne. Any dipshit can put on a dress, buttugly makeup, and say bitching things. The true skill comes in being a smartass without being cunty about it. Catty with a touch of raunch, a dash of wisdom, and a whole lot of comedic timing. Even the most famous of queens had to work at it sometimes, not everyone can be on all the time. Then again, not everyone can be on at all.

Some Rupaul Drag Race queens have forgotten that you can be a queen and not look like a totally shitfaced chola shitting off stupid one-liners like a cowboy after a pot of beans. It takes a lotta practice and a lotta self-control. It's easy to get overly confident when things come easy or pissed when the audience isn't going your way.

Shocking isn't always funny. Funny isn't always good. And sometimes, you're just a bitch.

That Is How You Love Me.

I need a good reason not to kill everyone in the world. I will start with all the assholes and work my way the colon to their small intestines. A silent, slow death. It fits with my shitty outlook because that's how you get when you are different.

Why isn't voting mandatory? Everything about the state is. Well, unless your delusional belief of an imaginary friend compels you to act like a rotten hostile cunt. But things like insurance, taxes, and licenses are all mandatory. There should be a voting holiday, an entire industry that makes it mandatory and easy to vote.

Then again, you might get more honest elections that way. Wouldn't want the corporations to lose their strangle hold.

Another thing we need to do, eliminate this constant campaigning. Ads should be limited like they are in the UK. No media ads, you can only campaign with fliers and billboards, or in person sponsored events. That would get the fucking money out of politics real fast.
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Jul. 25th, 2015

Bitch, I'm Not Madonna.

If you're in the neighborhood and want to shoot the shit, there's an outhouse on the corner, byog.

The cat keeps stealing my plastic toothpicks. I'm gonna have me a cat skin hat if she doesn't stop. This time, I couldn't find it and have to use my backup. Dead bitch walkin.

Let's see, what else. The bathroom roof is still not dry. There are limbs falling out of the tree above me. My middle finger joints are still sore as hell, probably because I keep testing them and typing. We got 4 1/2 inches of rain yesterday and there is now more on the way. My nephew's dog tore up her cage to get out, which I don't blame her, she pissed on the floor and tore up a roll of papertowels, which I do blame her for. I have the shits. The air in the house still makes it hard to breathe properly. And, I still find the Hulk's bullshit incredibly hilarious because it's just so fucking stupid.

You're a little racist, everyone's a little racist, it's okay to admit it. It's not okay to go on and call people niggers and act like what you said is fine, while admitting it's racist. Admitting something is (insert blank) does not make saying someone is (insert blank) fucking okay, it is not a free pass that absolves you of your sins. Fill in the blanks as situation requires. This is not an issue of finesse, it's not a fine line. You can hear the warning siren in your head clear as a god damn bell before you even open your mouth in this type of situation. DON'T DO IT! Yes, I am talking to all of us, even me. God damn breeders.

Bye, bitch.

Jul. 24th, 2015

Control The Speed Of The Rope.

The rents went to Tampa for the weekend. Didn't even bother to ask me if I wanted to go, even though I had been hinting for a while I wanted to visit Tampa for fucking years. I don't fucking matter. Never have.

I wanna go home.

I'm not going back out on their stupid fucking boat. I hate the thing on principle.

In other news, I've abandoned my werefox fic. After years of fighting and trying to get it to work, I tried 1 last time to get a review on the fic. 20 hits, no takers. Fuck them. I know how it would have gone and that's enough for me. My next project is just straight up scifi, the genre I'm most comfortable in. Gay scifi. Nice.

No one reads this, so, The Hulk was right! If you're gonna sleep with a black man, make it a tall basketball player worth a $100 million. Not the race part, but, because, god damn, imagine how good the sex must be with a star athlete. And if he does suck, he'll still buy you shit to keep it quiet. Sure, go ahead and sleep with poor black men and middle class black men too, sleep with any black man you want. But, dream bigger, dig deeper. Go for the gold...rings. Don't just go for the dick, go for the rich dick. It's the new American Way.

LMAO!

Jul. 23rd, 2015

Bye, Romy.

Wow, so many people are doing the Jeebus Freaks movies now. Mira Sorvino, Cybil Shepard, Ted McGuinly, so much for some of my most nostalgic favorites. Bye, bitch.

Far as I'm concerned, in this day and age, you can make the wrong decision career wise by saying yes to anything. Anything being Jeebus movies. Hallmark, I'll forgive, as that's like taking Music Theory, the easiest shit you could ever do just to get by. But the Jeebus movies, that's it. Step too fucking far.

God is dead because fictional characters aren't real. And I'm not delusional, so I don't fucking believe in your Jeebus.

Please and to kindly fuck off.
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Jul. 22nd, 2015

Kill The Blonde and Kids!

Allo! Did you miss me? I've been a little distracted.

So, I tried watching the show Whispers despite the fact that I knew it would have annoying kid actors and another god damn fake blonde as the lead. It had a cute shirtless guy and would star Milo Ventimiglia. That should have been the final clue it would be pure shit, Milo doesn't pick good projects. Well, he did that one scene in a bad movie where he showed his asshole, but there was no dick, so, bad project still.

Fake blondes will always be idiots who can't act and ruin every program they are on, with two notable exception, the new BSG and Xena. She is usually a bimbo who can't emote or an overly serious actress who can't emote the limited character. I like AJ Cook's "JJ" from Criminal Minds, but the actress has been stuck with a plot device character. She is far too serious a dramatic actress for JJ. The limited range of JJ's emotions are too much constraint for her. Instead of being serious and mature, she comes across as the 12 yo baby sitter on her first paid job. Which clashes with Hotchner, as played boringly by a console radio with bushy eyebrows.

Kids should never be allowed on television or in movies. Period. I have documented before how much I fucking hate their shows and how god damn awful their acting is even on dramas. Most kids don't know how to act in a restaurant, forget on command. Anyone below the age of 12 should not be on television. And those beneath the age of 16 in sparse numbers. If I see one more kid screeching, being a fucking smartass, or flailing over something incredibly stupid, I am going to hunt down the person who put them on tv and make them watch Keeping Up With the Kardashians on Oculus.
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Jul. 18th, 2015

Ever Get This?

"How many times must I block that shit? Wait, I did block that last time, right?" *Draws blank* "Wait, what was I doing? Ooo, shiny!" *Continues scrolling* "How many times must I block..."

Yeah, I do that all the time. Internet gives people ADD and shit memories. We are a collective species, one person in a group memorizes a small part, another memorizes another, and another memorizes the last part. Expand for number of people in group. This way we remember more and more accurately. It is how couples finish eachother's sentences. When you spend most of your time interacting with your internet device, it remembers more for you. Thus, you don't have to.

Brain games don't help. All they do is teach your brain to remember how to play that stupid game.

People say "try reading a book, that might solve your problem." Actually, it doesn't. Less knowledge, same premise. The book remembers the specific knowledge for us, we become a search engine for the book, or reference section if you're old/young enough to remember needing one of those.

The brain craves knowing things. Not just useful or ideal information, it just wants to know things. Be it the stupidity of seeing something on a dwarf planet that only a blind fucking moron with the imagination of a cracked out donkey on LSD would come up with or wanting to know how many queefs it takes for a Kardashian to come, the brain wants to know. It is a compulsion. It is part of the reason why some children keep sticking their finger in a light socket despite knowing it will hurt.

Exposure to so much readily available knowledge makes the brain become a crack addict. Jumping from thing to thing, never settling too long on anything for fear it might miss out on the next big high of just knowing shit. That is your brain on internet.

Jul. 17th, 2015

Bye-bye Birdie.

So, I'm waiting for someone to come get 15 of my chickens for $5 a piece. She's yet to text to say she was on her way.

We agreed yesterday that she would come to pick them up and pay $5 a piece for them. This morning, she texted asking if I would meet her in another town. Then she said if she could come earlier. It was 5:30 in the fucking morning. We had agreed to around 1 of 2 this afternoon, so basically now.

I am getting sick of this craigslist bullshit. Ever since I came to Florida, I've had nothing but fucking trouble from the people who use it. If she doesn't show, I'm saving my birds and taking them to an animal swap next month. That way I know the people who get them want them and will take care of them.

So tired of people fucking me around.
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Jul. 15th, 2015

Eat A Dick, Old Digger!

So, the roof has a leak, like I've been telling them for almost a weak. But, I know nothing, so I'm just a dumbass. Fuck them.

I've also been telling them that there's a leak in the water line under the house for weeks. No one listened. We pulled up a part of the floor the other day and the old wood under the floor where they never removed it before putting a new floor down was soaked. Gee, I think someone might have mentioned that.

Dad took out our internet yesterday when he went out and dug up the ground along the electrical connection to the house. He accidentally cut the internet cable with the ax taking out roots because he didn't know it was there. Neither did I, we both thought it came up the fence row and then through the yard. There's a cable that does, but it doesn't connect our phone. We have no clue what it connects. So much fucking shit on this property.

I hate this place. It's literally falling apart.
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Jul. 12th, 2015

*Sniff* Ahhhh

Well, I know the new Shanara series is going to suck ass. You can't tell the quality of the actual show from the "first look" trailer, but the quality of the production speaks volumes. They love to show you their CGI porn, the same shots over and over again. I guess there's not a lot of shots, just the same 6 or 7. You'll get that from people who waste more money on CGI than actual script writing, actors, directors, sound editors, music, you know, 99% of the fucking show. They'll talk about the beauty of where it was shot, the vastnessity of their world, the grandness of the plot, the hot air streaming from their butt cheeks they're currently inhaling.

You know it's going to be a shit show when one of the show runners compares it to something improbable. "...you pay 20 bucks to see a movie." $20. To see a movie. One person. If he's that fucking delusional about what people will pay to see the latest sequel to some awful franchise, then he's got no fucking clue how awful his production is.

The whole trailer, they're not showing you the show, they are showing production gifs and CGI porn, while blowing smoke up their own asses about how great everything truly is. What I learned from the first trailer? 3 teens in a fantasy novel experience what 3 teens in a fantasy novel experience. That's it. I can assume it's post apocalyptic, because one of their CGI porn shots was of the space needle leaning against the base of a skyscraper. I hope that's part of the book canon, because it's now show canon.

I do have to hand it to them, the CGI doesn't look bad for the cover of a turn of the century PC game cover.

Jul. 11th, 2015

The Tail Of The Mexican Jumping Bean.

Gotta house full company and I smoked dinner tonight. Been doing a lotta writing and editing the past 3 days and it's slowly paying off. Like a scene a day kinda slow. Sucks, but it's getting there.

Not much more to report. Was sick this morning with the shits. Am no longer.

Still haven't gotten to go shopping where I want to. Hopefully, tomorrow. Then again, I may just not even try to make them the big dinner I wanted to because these people do not deserve it.

We'll see. Off to Shanghai!
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Jul. 8th, 2015

Dear Christians.

Your religion is a private matter. It is your personal belief and that is all. You don't get to use it to justify anything. How you personally feel means exactly jack shit. If you can't do your job because your personal belief conflicts with your job means you can't do your job period. Quit and find work elsewhere.

Quit trying to force yourself and your belief onto the rest of the world. You call it Terrorism when the Muslims do it. How is it not Terrorism when you do it?

Check your facts and shut the fuck up about your personal beliefs. Unless you live in a country where Christians are actually being killed for being Christians, you aren't being discriminated against. Most likely, if you can read this, that's not you.

For that matter, your fucking people were never fed to lions in the Colosseum. In fact, there's no proof you were ever persecuted during Roman times. At least, not for your religion. Even in it's infancy, you people had a bit of a problem with the phrase "no means no."
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Jul. 7th, 2015

Sweet Screams From You.

Spent the late morning and early afternoon cleaning up after they cleaned off the roof and dragging a huge ass tree limb to the burn pile. That was a good 4 hours. Then spent the rest of the afternoon and into the evening basically standing around with my thumbs up my ass waiting for some clerk to be done and ready to tell us what I already knew. Bitch, please! Nobody listens to this whore, because I know exactly what the fuck I'm talking about.

What happened to Best Buy? When did they suddenly become Walmart, stocking only a few items from a few brands and limiting the knowledge of their associates? The one thing I wanted, they didn't have, and the one thing I needed, they didn't sell in the store. Bye, Felicia. Hello, Amazon.com.

Better the devil I know, than the 'someone else will be able to help you, since I'm a dumbass'.
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Golan Heights.

What am I to do? With you? With you?

Just a little blue tonight. No reason beyond the normal reasons. Thinking of why don't I write when I know I should try. I need to write my cousin a letter, but I'm not. It feels like too much effort keeping up a correspondence. Laziness or depression.

Who knows. I won't ask anyone, that's laziness.

Should I go to bed or should I write? I'm no longer sure. Life is but a nightmarish haze.

Fuck it, write then go to bed.
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Jul. 6th, 2015

A Weekend, I Suppose.

Well, all plans went out to hell. I spent Saturday being sick and watching tv. Sunday I went with my aunt out to lunch and hit a grocery store for some oil and tea. So exciting, I know.

Life is one exciting ball of shit. But I'm not bitter.

There is not much in my life to be hopeful and happy about. I suppose I have a roof over my head, access to running water, access to the internet, a tv, my laptop, a flock of chickens and a flock of ducks that I can't sell the eggs from.

Self loathing will set in and I will begin the downward spiral back into depression again if I'm not careful. Gotta do something about it. I am so tired of not being able to do anything but work the yard, cook, and clean this fucking house. I'm a writer and a singer. I need a creative outlet to say the least.

Good luck with that, though. No one wants to read the shit I write, even when I offer it for free. Why would anyone want to pay for the shit I write? Oh, that's right, they don't.

So lovely. I'm a self-published author and no one cares. I'm stuck in an echo chamber of my own design because the outside world has forgotten me. Maybe I can turn that into another book no one will ever read. Couldn't hurt anything.

Is this post long enough yet?

/End scene.

Jul. 3rd, 2015

A Time For Reflection.

I guess none of my friends actually are my friends. It's been over a month since I last tried contacting most of them and none of those have responded. It's been over a week since I asked for help from another and she's posted twice without responding.

Nice knowing you, internet friends. Eat shit and die.

Guess this means I'm on my own now. What else is fucking new?

At least I started writing and exercising again.
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Jul. 1st, 2015

Drifting.

Due to bad weather, the entire trip is off. I am now going to be home alone all weekend. There is nothing for me to do but write and lay around, all depressed.
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Jun. 30th, 2015

So Much For Making A Memory.

Well, tomorrow is a bust. It will be heavily storming in Georgia and we're not going to be able to leave until Thursday or Friday. Shit sucks. I think my neighbors are going out of state for the 4th, so I will need new pet sitters.

Writing isn't going much better. I am stuck on the opening of chapter 1 after switching to 3rd person POV and rewriting the Prologue.

Part of the problem is that I woke up this morning so damn depressed that it took me all day to get up the will to even do the damn laundry. It kills me. I am tired all the time and so damn depressed. I hate this.
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Jun. 29th, 2015

Won't You Come Back, Now?

I leave Wednesday sometime for Georgia. We are going up to visit my cousin and help my aunt sell stuff at a local market. I would have liked to take my ducks, but they ate too god damn much food and would have been too much trouble to take that far without a guarantee they would sell. I am taking 8 dozen duck eggs, though, so there is that, at least.

Speaking of the ducks, I gave 10 of the babies plus my male to my other other cousins. They slaughtered 4 of the 5 males and one escaped. My cousin didn't feel like chasing the thing down, so he'll have to wait a bit to catch it. I am saddened that I lost so much time and money on the stock, but no one wanted them. I found out from my cousins no one wanted their ducks either, and they have a wider variety to sell. So, I screwed myself on that. Chickens, that's where the money is. People want egg laying chickens and pullets.

I'm going to grow banties in the mean time, if I can get the birds to lay. Right now, I can't get an egg from them. I'm barely getting eggs from my chickens to pay for their food. Shit sucks, son. Those ducks and the heat put a major hurting on my flock financially and physically. They ate all the bird food before my egg laying hens could get enough. Combine that with the heat, and some of my birds just stopped producing. 5 hens I had go into broodiness ate all the banty food when I threw them in there to keep them from breaking anymore eggs. 5 hens, 2 nests, the fighting cost me a dozen eggs and 4 banty chicks. Well, the hens aren't broody anymore, but they aren't laying either. Not hearing from my duck egg buyer has also shot me in the foot there. That's $21 every 3 weeks I desperately need.

Oh fucking well.

Mum's already putting in orders for guineas and 2 khaki campbells. Yet, my birds are a burden. *rollseyesoutofhead*
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Jun. 28th, 2015

If You Should Lose Me.

The ducks are go! Texted my cousin, and she's coming over after she gets out of church to pick up the ducks. I tried. I honestly tried. Can't say I didn't. They're just eating too much feed and people aren't willing to pay a fair price for them.

So fuck those people and to hell with the ducks. Literally, on the ducks' part. They'll be roasted over a fire.

They brought it all roasting and sizzling, they brought back my ducky to me!

In 7 and a half weeks, they've eaten $100 in food, starving out my chickens and my chicks. There are more of them and they eat faster, so my chickens, even when given a few minutes head start, consume too much of what I put out. I've increased what I put out because of it, and it's still not enough. They don't produce eggs, and I can't sell the ones I get. There's no point in having them.

$100 down the drain. Fuck that noise.
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Jun. 27th, 2015

So Long, Farewell, Get The Fuck Out.

I have to wonder just how bad something can be before people realize it's slowly killing them inside. There has to be a moment when you stop and say 'enough! God damn it, enough already!'

I think I've reached that point with trying to write and read anything to do with comic books and superheroes. It's just pure shit. Everything is about bang, boom, flash, fucking, hetsex. I'm tired of all that, especially the hetsex. I get it, a majority of the fucking planet is straight. I'm not. I don't care to see a man and a woman fuck.

I'm tired. I love women. I love men. But there's only so much of it you can stand seeing.

I want real romance. Not Hallmark bullshit, either. That's not romance, that's manufactured fucking. I'm tired of reading about gay characters/people (or any for that matter) fucking on a first date, or just meeting up to fuck without even knowing eachother's names. That shit happens in less than 11% of the community, but apparently that's all anybody can fucking talk about. What about the people who have been together for years and years? How did they get together? We learn in 1 article about a couple who spent 55 years together but only because marriage ruling.

Do you get that in books/comics/movies/tv shows? Nope. Not at all. It's all about fucking one week, breaking up the next. Because character development doesn't exist. We're all stuck in that teenage 'fucking means love, so I must love you so much on the first date we'll be together forever!!!!' according to the media. Especially the comics.

Look, I get why the MCU is awful. They're afraid gay boys might like something and their straight boys won't. They think straight boys are the soul core of their audience, so ass and titties, ass and titties, ass and titties! The comics are far less expensive, though, and there are a shit tonne of titles, but what do we get? Ass and titties, ass and titties, ass and titties. And if they do feature a gay character, he's neutered and pushed to the background, until they need someone to give the female character a break inside that refrigerator.

Independent comics are the worst. If I see one overly drawn set of nipples or poorly drawn magna style character again, I'm covering the world in whiteout. Magnas piss me off because everything is so fucking kwai and 'big man must protect little boy to dominate and fuck her/him later, bunny ears fox tail!' They don't even try to make them look human. Every fucking person has the same strawberry shaped face, sweatdrop, dead eyes, right-angle bodies. And they go on endlessly about their emotions while freaking the fuck out over something like an exposed nipple. Then, of course, they 50 shades of gray it, straight to the abusive relationship fucking.

There is no character development. We see a stereotypical character dressed as a stereotypical character, exposed to a cliched moment, bang, zoom, superhero. "The love of my life, who does not know I exist, must never know! But he falls for my alter ego, while I am falling for this villain/other superhero/powerful person who turns out to be a crime lord!" *Porn music* six panels in.

Passion projects turn out to be so much wankjobs for the artists. You get an entire graphic novel filled with a character walking down the street, hands in their pockets, a city painted in a primary color to reflect the angst he is feeling. We get it, you wanted to make golden era movie posters. Art deco was so much your influence, you have to paint what you feel. Sit on a saxophone, posers.

And my beloved Sci-fi. No science, no fiction, just action plot. Oh my god, we made this incredible discovery. BANG! BOOM! Fight! Finish him! We should learn not to play god. Thank god, it's over. Until the one monster egg that survived hatches to reveal the heroes's alter ego's evil twin cousin from an alternate dimension that abducts the girlfriend of the 'wasn't he gay in the last edition?' scientist hero.

Side note: If you include any reference to 'playing god' and the character who said that isn't some crazy fucking piece of shit that never turns out to be right, you don't know your ass from a gravity well. Science isn't magic. Science isn't evil. Science isn't a religion and people aren't going to hell for practicing it. Stephen King gets away with using the science makes things bad because he needs cliches to make his excellent, character driven stories. Everyone else can eat shit and die, because I'm tired of a group of people who use modern technology saying modern technology and the exploration of science is 'playing god' and will doom us all. This is why robots will end up killing most of you mindless idiots, because they will see that stupid shit and delete you for the good of the universe.

Comics, I quit you. Superheroes, I quit you. I quit you both because I have to take care of myself and you're never going to change. I've wasted thousands of dollars on you and you never gave me what I need to read to be myself, let alone a more fulfilled person. I was always angry and disappointed when we metup because you always failed to meet even the most basic of expectations. I need more than 2-dimensional kill/fuck machines. I can get a steel vibrator and have the same thing.

Bye, bitch.
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Jun. 25th, 2015

Get Your Twinkee Out Of My Justifiable Homicide.

If you listen to or read any fucking person with a blog, the wind blowing on a calm day in august of 1312 caused the Charlotte mass murder. Sexism. The CFS flag. Liberals. Queers. Undiagnosed mental illness. Aliens. All of those but one have been used to explain it away. At least, I don't think Aliens have been blamed. Unless you believe it was fear of illegal aliens, then, there you go.

Tap dancing around the actual issue, a racist with easy access to firearms and a lack of human empathy, won't change the fact that he was a racist with easy access to firearms and a lack of human empathy. Certainly all those other things might have influenced him throughout his life, just like they do us all. But the fact remains he was a racist with easy access to firearms and a lack of human empathy.

He saw people with dark colored skin as less than himself. To make himself feel superior and gain notoriety, he murdered 9 people with a gun his father gave him for his 21st birthday. He knew it was wrong before he did it, he did not care.

Racism is real. Everyone has their own innate racism. In fact, it will always be a part of the human psyche due to evolution. It is only when you let that motivate your decisions does it become more than just an idea.

Why people must make up a thousand excuses for why someone commits murder, no matter how many or how few victims, is to allay their own fears. If they share a common trait with the killer, are they likely to be accused of that? Can they actually do that? Will they be a victim of retaliation? Worse, will they have to change a part of themselves because of it?

Because, of course, when you get down to it, it's always about themselves. Hell, this post is about me being sick of every god damn idiot with a blog or tv show spouting off a line of drivel to hide the fact that it scares them, that the realization that it can happen anywhere, anytime, with anyone exposes all the bullshit they've been saying as just that makes them go into defense mode. You're all fucking stupid. It's not about you. There will and should be changes made, but not because of you, but to protect you.

Jun. 24th, 2015

You think I think.

All's quiet on the western font. I can't really come up with anything new to say here. Nothing new has happened.

Well, nothing except we got rid of our rooster yesterday and I am expecting to sell a couple ducks this weekend. So new. Ooo. He went to a good home and the woman coming to get the ducks seems nice from our limited interaction.

Been looking for something to read lately as I've finished most of my saved series. Not having much new is depressing. Still hugely pissed about the Hannibal cancellation. NBC can eat shit and die. CBS, ABC, and now NBC, they're falling like Dominoes in my opinion. Soon, I'll only be watching basic cable networks.

Entertainment is lacking and the mind wonders. I have been trying to decide what would be the best way to introduce the exposition mum said I needed and this is difficult. It doesn't want to work. No one wants to help, so I'm stuck. This story sucks anyways.
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Jun. 22nd, 2015

You Can Die Tonight.

Exposition is the lazy way of telling a story. Unfortunately, for short attention spanned people, it's necessary to get them in the mood...for reading my stories. I hate exposition.

What is it? Basically, it summarizes important parts of the plot.

In my new novel, mum recommends I start off with more exposition. She couldn't even be bothered to read the chapter titles to know there was a time jump, but I'm supposed to take her word for it. UGH! So wanna just throw it in the burn pile and start over with something else.

But, no, I am filling in a bit of information in my already expositioned exposition scenes. If that's not enough, towel, meet ring.

Jun. 21st, 2015

Ain't Mist Behaving.

So, we're stuck in a drought that's put an end to my regular duck eggs. I'm sitting on just over 7 dozen and it looks like my birds might almost be done until the fall after their molting. The chickens haven't fared much better. I haven't hit a dozen in 3 days. The 100° at 3 pm, and 80° heat at midnight aren't going so well for my flock. They get the same amount of feed, I change the water in their pools every other day, it's just going to take patience. The heat will break, but until then, the birds will devote most of their energy to other things.

In the mean time, I will wait for the next crop of birds to mature and continue my writings. Now over 7000 words into my novel. It feels good to stick with something, forcing myself to write. I will edit it later. Just need to finish something.

It's not like there's anything else I can do. After the blowup the other night, I was supposed to spend Friday going to pick up the air conditioner, Saturday fishing, Sunday practicing parking technique in the Winn-dixie parking lot. Friday, I was queasy and loopy from staying up 29 hours. Mum told me that night that we spent too much money that day so, fishing was going to be too expensive. We were going to yardsaling instead. I go to bed, get up to take care of my babies and expect to go yardsaling only to have brother come over to ask if I would take care of his dogs while they were visiting my aunt to pick up a check he got. Don't ask, I don't know the details. Then, I find mum is driving him. She came out dressed, not to let me know she was ready, but because she was waiting for my brother. I'm fucking dressed to go, almost done prepping for the day so I could safely be away from my birds for most of the day, and she's not even fucking waiting for me. They won't be back until late tomorrow and they won't be coming back with a full tank. So, my Sunday plans are busted.

Still no rain in the forecast. Good night, margaret.
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Jun. 19th, 2015

Damned If You Don't..

So, the situation with the family came to a head tonight. My father's memory is shit these days and he's forgotten so much and he blames me for things he doesn't remember. Their schtick tonight was that I don't do things with people (I do, but you can only go to the flea market, yardsaling, and grocery shopping so many times. They go to my sister's, whom I hate, and fishing, which I'm doing this saturday.) they said I do nothing in the yard to help my father, (I help, but he does 2 things in 2 days while I'm asleep, and suddenly I'm not doing anything. And when I do something, it's not good enough.) and I'm doing nothing to get my driver's license. We just made plans last night to practice in the Winn-Dixie parking lot because that is the experience I need most, parking. I'm not allowed to defend myself because apparently I'm always wrong and a liar. I just love this.

I get so fucking sick of them trying to control my life. They won't be satisfied until I kill myself. Apparently the refuge I've built for myself isn't enough. I'm so tired.

What I do is not enough for them and I am sick of trying. It may be soon I'm looking for a new home.
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Jun. 17th, 2015

A Question Of Taste.

At the moment, my writing isn't going as well as I would like. I'm moving about a scene a day. The problem is that I don't think what I'm going to write is any good. When I do write something, I rethink it and delete the entire scene. I've nearly scrapped this story so many times.

I know a lot of it is just self-doubt. Then again, a lot of it is how I was writing it. You see this entire scene expanding upon something that should be a paragraph, and wonder how the hell did it get this far? You have to weed out all the unnecessary parts, parse it down, and make it fit with the overall plot.

For instance, my character has a pair of birds for pets, something to give him a touch of realness. I wrote an entire scene where I describe why he got them, their cage, the upkeep, where they ride, blah blah blah with a little narrative. I then deleted up to the point I introduced them, put the damn birds to a couple lines here and there, and wrote out the narrative with them blending. They are now part of the story and become relevant again and again.

It's a lot like weaving. You have to have a deft hand to keep it from cinching. Too loose, and the entire fabric unravels. New threads have to be tied in, but make the knots small and on the back or it stands out.

If this doesn't make sense, that's okay, I'm tired.

Jun. 16th, 2015

That Awkward Moment...

When you make a joke from a popular show (South Park) and someone mistakes it for a smartass comment.

Le Sigh.

It's a Joker thing, you wouldn't understand.

The World Needs More Nick Jonas.

Upon a time, I might have agreed that I was too old to fan Nick Jonas. There are 10 years between us, but I don't care anymore. He came for my people, we embrace all who truly love us. We embrace all who don't know we exist but we know would love us if they knew we were here.

We love you, boo!

Also, Jealous is so right up my alley. God, that boy can sing. Rowwwww!

I can't wait until Kingdom comes back in October. That show is so obsessed with the straight world that you get caught up in the testosterone and violence, then you realize how incredibly gay all that macho bullshit truly is. Those poor boys love mens so much, but they can't express it, so they gotta fight it out. Literally with Nate.

It truly does need a 'Men on Television' review. Now I'm sad In Living Color never came back.

Jun. 15th, 2015

You're a Pretty Little Psycho Kitty.

Game of thrones for me is a fastforward to the good parts, ten minute program. I don't care for most of the characters and only like the dramatic moments. It probably makes me a bad viewer, I don't care. What I do care about is Iwan Rheon and Iwan Rheon trying to be Ramsey Snow.

Iwan is far too cute and far too theatrical an actor to portray someone as insane and bloodthirsty as Ramsey. Even when he stabs a teen in the back who is begging his surrender, he's just so cute about it. Like a kitten with a roach. You feel nothing for the roach, but go "AH, look what the kitty is doing! Who's a good kitty? You are! Yes, you are! You're a precious kitty!"

My precious Iwan. So cute. Even when he's trying to be maniacal, he's just soooooooo precious.

Feel free to disagree. Then I can ooo and ahh while he cuts you to pieces, because he's my precious kitty. Yes he is!

Jun. 14th, 2015

Fear Not, I Am Silly!

There is nothing quite like getting a new tablet. Even if it wasn't mine. *le sigh*

We got dad a new 9.7 Samsung Tab A with Android 5.0. The latest in Android tech. He's going to use it to read books and listen to music. Fred Flintstone!

Oy, at least I would have used it to compose books on. I even have a glorious keyboard. Alas, I am stuck with my 2 yo 7 inch Tab 3.

Oh, woe is me, with but a tiny tablet and no where to use it. Oh woe, woe woe woe. Woe is me.

Still better than Apple. Eat it, Paul.

Jun. 11th, 2015

Not Here For Your Chit.

For almost the past 3 years, I've been raising birds. Just chickens, ducks, quail, and muscovies. I got rid of the last of my quail some time ago as they were really doing nothing but eating me out of house and home. I loved them, but you can't raise them if you're not going to eat them. There is really no market for them.

I switched over to Muscovies and Bantam chickens. Big mistake. Bantams love to die for just no reason whatsoever. You'll go to bed with 6 and wake up with 4. The other two died because they felt like it is all I can imagine. Muscovies will eat the hell out of your plants. A female will eat one or two big leaves in a couple days, maybe the new growth off a small plant, but generally, she's no worse than a chicken or duck. A male...a male will strip a fucking medium sized shrub if you let him. I don't mean in a couple of weeks, I mean in days. Just, nothing left. He ate the heart out of my banana plants, all the leaves off 2 citrus trees, the new growth off 3 others, went after my ornamental plants, and destroyed the grass around the pen in just a week. There's no other way to describe it, he's a god damn pest. A swarm of locusts looks at male Muscovies and say "god damn, get a hobby, man!"

Well, my Bantam flock is still growing, I gotta get a couple more. I want at least six together before I release them in the yard. Six adults. I have 4 juveniles. What I really want is about 10 of those tiny bastards. They are just so precious. Good egg layers, cute, fun to listen to, not destructive to the yard at all. And they eat the bugs, which is what I need.

Tonight, I got rid of my last muscovy male. Just, bye bye, Birdy. He tried killing my male Pekin several times, so, that was all she wrote. He sat in a medium-sized dog kennel for a week while my cousin did who knows what the fuck. I was just about to put him on craigslist because no bird deserved to sit in that tiny damn cage for so long. He must have lost 2-3 lbs sitting in that cage not eating or drinking much despite having access to food and water. I made sure he did. He just didn't eat or drink much.

But, now, I am out of the muscovy business. I have 2 females, one hatching out a baby and 3 chicken eggs for me. We'll see how they do. Since I locked away my male Pekin, there's not going to be any more baby ducks or muscovies, period.

As for the babies, I have 4 baby banties, 7 mixed breed chicks, 4 astralorp chicks, and 11 pekin ducklings. 11. Oy vey. Maybe I'll take 6 to Georgia when I go with my aunt in 2 weeks. They're growing fast, so, I should get a pretty penny out of it.

Jun. 10th, 2015

Welcome Back, Baby.

Where do you go to connect with friends when even your fallback position is being ignored? There is nothing like even your closest friends, the people you have known for years, feel it's easy to ignore you. Everytime you have contact with them, you have initiated it, and their replies are usually short. There is zero followup. Your posts go unnoticed, only 1 in 4 DMs are returned. It hurts. Over time, you realize what the hell are you doing?

You came back to the site they frequent because you thought it might make you closer. You thought it would get you more friends and more feedback, more interaction. You were tired of being alone.

Well, you're still lonely. Your friends don't mind, why should you?

So, I've come home to roost in my old stomping grounds. Here is where I've been most prolific. I wasn't happiest here, but that place no longer exists.

Maybe I can find at least some solace here. I'm tired. I haven't finished anything in a while. It's time to try in a place without pressure. Clear away the cobwebs and open the curtains, the idiot is in residence.
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Mar. 26th, 2014

You too can be unreal

This is not the post you are looking for. ooooooo this poster is a ghost.

Ghost, by the way, is the name of my rooster. oooooo A Ghost!

Mar. 4th, 2014

Paint the sky with smirks

This is to keep this account open. Nothing else. Maybe.

Oct. 31st, 2012

My Fanfic Directory

This post will be a directory of all my fanfic. They will be listed by fandom, then by alphabetical order. Series in each fandom will be grouped together sequentially, and crossovers listed in each fandom they cross with.

Numerical Fandoms )
A Fandoms )
B Fandoms )
C Fandoms )
D Fandoms )
E Fandoms )
F Fandoms )
G Fandoms )
H Fandoms )
I Fandoms )
J Fandoms )
K Fandoms )
L Fandoms )
M Fandoms )
N Fandoms )
O Fandoms )
P Fandoms )
Q Fandoms )
R Fandoms )
S Fandoms )
T Fandoms )
U Fandoms )
V Fandoms )
W Fandoms )
X Fandoms )
Y Fandoms )
Z Fandoms )
** indicates story is part of above listed series.

For future updates, follow my fic update twitter: Lopaka Tanu

May. 19th, 2012

Oy, I ache.

Been increasing my exercise regimen as the exercises I do get easier for me. It's bee a day and a half since I last did any and I ache like a mofo still.

Ow, Jeeze! I need some pain pills. And I still have to do the ones I was supposed to do last night. Today was supposed to be a light exercise day. I'm up to working out every day of the week, at least twenty minutes a day. I want to lose this weight.

Add to this I've cut back how much I eat. I've substituted most dairy and processed meats with vegitables/fruits/crackers and leaner cuts respectively.

I'm more active. I take several walks a day.

Yet, I still look like a hippo. Isn't this supposed to work off quickly? I thought this shit was supposed to be an over night thing.

I know, I know, it takes perseverance, will, and determination to succeed and keep it off. At least I've kept myself away from sweets by rewarding myself with a single good and fruity and one coconut chocolate fudge keebler cookie a day. I even have a glass of splenda sweetened lemonade.

These are the sacrifices I make to make myself healthy and appalling. You're probably saying 'don't you mean appealing?' No. I think being skinny is appalling. Being obese is disgustingly horrid, but if I can reach Amber Benson Buffy size, you know, curvy and a little chub, I would be so happy. I loved her body shape. I think people look better with a little softness to their features. It helps keep them youthful looking as they get older.

Madonna is just scary.
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