New Shiny

I received a new laptop today, and there was much rejoicing. Now, there are a great many things I can do that I could not do before. The intended goal of this purchase is to get me to stare at a blank page more frequently, in the hopes that I'll stop being so afraid of the goddamned thing and put some fucking text on there once or twice. I spend a lot of time on the futon (still too poor/cheap for a couch) watching television and movies via the magic of Netflix and our ever-growing personal collection of DVDs and, let's face it, sometimes what's on the television screen isn't all that interesting. Those who follow my Twitter feed (which should be nearly all 11 of you, considering where my traffic sources are coming from*) will know that I'm currently in the middle of a prolonged Nicolas Cage marathon. We love it when he goes psycho, but his films are largely hit or miss. Largely miss. And so up until today, I've spent a whole lot of this movie-watching time doing crossword puzzles on my phone, or playing Dragon, Fly! on it, or just generally paying more attention to my smartphone's screen than that of my television.

Anyway, I eventually gave in to that nagging feeling that since I was really just sitting on my ever-flattening butt, I really should attempt to at least finish the current draft rewrite re-re-rewrite of the novel I wrote when I was in middle school and the beginning of high school. It might not have sparkly fucking vampires or magic wands and shit, but it's been sitting in my brain like a fat albino toad in an empty soup pot**, and having a laptop will give me less of an excuse to not stare this beast of a book down while Nic Cage is losing his shit.
At least until we get to the end of the marathon (which will be quite soon, we just finished watching Lord of War today), at which point we will have to find some other marathon to latch onto.

So here's me, writing in my blog instead of staring at a blank page and wondering what the fuck Peria is going to do to help Twaise and all his people, and how to not make it so goddamn fucking obvious who the really really important person that's been hiding in plain sight is. I'm giving the whole first bit of the book away right here, and I don't care because I know I'm going to get dissatisfied with the 45 pages I've already got in another year or two, and start a re-re-re-rewrite. Largely, my problem is that while I grow increasingly satisfied with the development of the relationships between the characters, the actual events that allow that development to unfold leaves one fuck of a lot to be desired. And that's why I spend so much time staring at a blank page. Because while the characters are solid in my squishy brain, the events are not so much, especially since the latest rewrite kind of threw a whole lot of the early stuff out on its stupid ear.

When it comes right down to it, I'm just in a cranky ass mood because I wanted to see a movie tonight, but the showing that I intended to see was mis-labeled as being in 2D, and fuck 3D right in its stupid ass. I love David Tennant, and I was really looking forward to seeing him in leather pants, but I'm not going to spend money to tell movie executives that seeing David Tennant in leather pants is worth prolonging this stupid 3D trend. So I'll go see the only 2D showing on Wednesday, or wait until it's released on DVD, because that's how I roll.

*Except whoever is using that Trafficfaker site. Seriously, where the fuck is this blog linked that is so embarrassing that you have to use Trafficfaker to hide it?

**I'm almost completely sober, I swear. It was just the only analogy I could come up with that didn't involve turds, or nutsacks.***

***I've been reading Fanny Hill: Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure. One of my favorite bits is where a dude's nutsack is described as being covered in the only wrinkles that bring anyone any pleasure. Also, according to that book, every dude in England has an enormous, veiny cock.

Fucking shitball mothercock.

My work schedule right now oscillates between opening, where I wake up at 4 or 5 am to be at work at 5 or 6 am, and closing, where I go in to work around 1pm and am there until 9:30 or 10 pm. It could be worse, but it royally fucks with my brains sometimes. For instance, after returning from a 5-day vacation, I had two closing shifts in a row. I then had a midday shift, and today I went in at 6am. Tomorrow will be another 6am shift, Sunday will have me there at 5am, and then Monday I'll be going back in at 6am.

For those of you keeping score, that's five seven days in a row. My brain first thought it was five for some stupid reason. It is not capable of keeping score.

I don't intend to bitch about how much I'm working. That's not the point I'm trying to make. I'm very glad to have a job. But sometimes I wish there was a way to express, via this text, how long it took me to finish the previous sentence. It sort of went like this:

"That's not the point I'm trying to make. I'm very..." *blink blink* *type type type* *blink blink* *staaaaaare* *delete delete delete* "... glad to have a job."

Where was I?

I'm glad to have a job. Things suck right now, but they'd suck worse if I wasn't working. And this is not the worst job I've ever had. It's actually in the top five. My boss isn't an asshole, my coworkers are a fucking laugh riot (ye gods, I can't even spell riot correctly the first two or three times). I have awesome coworkers.

I keep losing my train of thought. Ok, going to start over. Again.

I'm glad to have a job. What I'm whinging about is the fact that my sleep schedule gets so fucking cocked-up sometimes, I lose many of the faculties that make me feel superior to the people I see on websites like... oh, I don't know... Lamebook. I can spell words with, like, seven syllables, whereas those people can't even spell words with three letters. Though I realize it's probably more due to laziness and the oppressing mentality that communicating in (*blink blink blink* *staaaaaare*) anything resembling an educated manner is for morons who can't grasp the idea that i can rite lyk dis n u stil no wat i meen, bra.

Someone help me. I'm losing control of my brains, and it's because I couldn't fall asleep last night. It's appalling that even though I've only technically been awake for (*staare* "ok, the first alarm went off at 4:30 am, and it's 6pm now, so..." *blinkblinkstare*) almost 14 hours, I feel as though it's closer to three times that amount length. I mean, I did sleep last night. Just not for long. I was definitely still awake at 2am. It's just kind of dumb that I can easily stay awake for more than 14 hours with no brain-deadening effects when there are more than 2.5 hours of sleep in between awake periods.

Ok. I'm done. I'm going to post this and let all 11 of you know just what a pitiful, broken creature I become sometimes for no real reason at all. But first, a picture. Because why the fuck not?

I was going to post a pic that was strange and out of nowhere, but that one is appropriately topical. So now I'll look for another strange and out of nowhere picture.

I really hoped more people would buy that t-shirt. Because then I would have more moneys, and people would be wearing Taintpuncher shirts.