So like, currently?
Snookms is outside shooting a home-made spud gun. Made of pvc pipe and couplings. I can smell the delicious pvc cement from here. Just heard a big DUWOOOOB!! which Brian is making fun of me about for impersonating as I type. Fukken douch(e)baggery.
Also nursing a Chocolate Truffle Mocha that I got from the Starbucks inside Barnes & Noble in one hand, and a Jones Co. Candy Cane flavoured soda in the other. Oh how I love the packaging for them sodas. I'm thinking of submitting Snookms' "Happy Holidays" underwear Christmas special photo that I took last year to them. Wouldn't you love to see this as you take sips of your Egg Nogg flavoured soda on a warm Christmas Night??
I know I would.....
Sandman Series number 3 Dream Country is waiting patiently for me to read on my bed, as I had to settle for volume 4 in the series last week. The B&N Snookms took us to last week didn't have Dream Country (which is volume number 3) in stock, so Season of Mists it was. Beautifully written, btw....Dream has to venture to Hell yet again, in search of a lost and forgotten love, and gorgeous Lucifer, the Morning Star, the Fallen Angel, has taken it upon himself(themself?) to surrender the keys to the Gates of Hell to Good Ol' Morpheus. THAT'S the reason I was on the whole "A Heav'n of Hell and a Hell of Heav'n" kick. Such a marvelous fucking piece of literature.
So far, my favorite intro into the story has got to be Steve Erickson's perspective on Neil's prose.
Here is but a mere sample for your reading pleasure:
I'm writing this on the fine edge of that blade that's consciousness on one side and dream on the other, that thin silver horizon where you hover right before falling asleep, and right before comepletely waking. Neil Gaiman lives here all the damn time. He scribbles his stories and sends them out from the thin silver horizon whose bridge the rest of us traverse just twice a day. Gaiman is the troll who lives beneath the bridge; he exhales into word ballons the visions that flash only fleetingly across our gaze and then are gone with the next memory. Dreams of what we've loved and lost, dreams that are more vivid than our lives, dreams that tell you they aren't dreams, from which come the questions that trouble and entrall and finally free our spirits,if were' brave enough for the answers. Gaiman's ideas, in other words, of a good time.
....How I would secrete gold persimmons from my vaginal glands to get a fucking review like that in regards to the blather that is my writing one day. The sighs are an endless bunch here, so I will cease the bullshit musings.
In the beginning of Dream Country, this writer, whom is suffering major writer's block makes a deal with this infamous novelist and gets this "muse" in female form, and everytime he rapes her, he is embued with the ability to belt out a great work in progress, continually making millions contingent upon whenever this douch(e) fuck decides his weenie needs a party. So this "muse" of sorts finally summons the courage to call upon her higher power for help, only to discover that she is bound by the ridiculous law of the land to continue to serve this slave driver of an ass as muse for eternity. Alas she calls upon "Oneiros" as a last resort, remembering once that they were lovers in a previous life, and "Oneiros" who is Dream, has the ability to transcend the laws of many dimensions that most inhabitants would be otherwise bound to....
Morpheus...Dream....Sandman....Oneiros....they are one in the same, no?? Kinda reminds me of the way Tolkien used to give each of his characters 20 different names depending on where the main characters in each chapter hail from. I like the ideal though, as you get to use all the cool names for characters you thought you were gonna have to trash evidently. Like Aragorn is Strider, and Gandalf is....is SOMEBODY else, I can't fukkin remember. And Gollum was/is Smeagol. I dunno. It's just cool and all.
At least the last volume, Sandman series number 11, Endless Nights is now available for my reading pleasure. Hopefully I get my grubby little paws on it before someone else does. It usually only takes me 2-3 days to finish reading these graphic novels, so it's usually costing me 20 bucks a week to keep this habit. I tell you what though, it's far better than any DRUG I've smoked. Yee-haw.
I must venture back to reality now. There is a potato cannon sitting outside with my name on it.
Currently reading :
Dream Country (The Sandman, Vol. 3)
By Neil Gaiman
Release date: 1991-09-24
P to the S....
I know I've just been copying and pasting what I've written on my Myspace blog to here lately, But honestly? I just really don't fucking have much to say these days. I'm at a loss fer words, yo.
This bitch gotz plenty to say though. The workings of a fucking writing genious. Has the future all laid out for themself and doesn't even know it. Yer cluelessly awesome Jess and I hope you don't mind that I'm sharing with everyone else just how much of a badass you are. Maybe I should ask first? Just give me the word and I'll have it down ASAP, mmkay?
6 comments:
Tolkien used the names to indicate change and past and future. It was well done.
All right, I just thought I'd mention a few things.
1. Something brilliant just occured to me. You're the adult version of Lila, if Lila didn't hate me anymore. Seriously. She's waaaaaaay back in the blog.
2. Here's (verbatim) the paragraph I omitted, but seriously wanted to put in...I think it aleviates your autism mom worries!
Why can't the mothers fucking be like realmovet? Jesus. The more I think about it, the more the aspie mom's blogs are giving a bad name to the aspies themselves.
What they do is make us seem like prisons where the mothers reside.
"Today I took Baby to the doctor's to discuss medications and an IEP..."
"Today Mikey had a tantrum and I sat on the floor with him for six hours."
I mean, thank god we have mothers like realmcovet who can stagger, albeit slightly drunk, out of the bar that is autism and fucking write about themselves for once! Jesus! Thank god for that. She reminds me of my mother, 'cause my mother pays attention to the KID first and the autism second.
Certainly doesn't help when I need to do the dishes, but...
No wonder that so many have put out Tolkein readers, including Tolkein himself (The Silmarillion, although that confused more poeple than it helped). But the names are cool. I've read the series twice. Would be neat if somebody shot the Orcs with spud guns ;) And I wouldn't mind some pastry from Starbucks, but I'm too lazy at the moment.
Dear sweet Jess Watsky,
"I mean, thank god we have mothers like realmcovet who can stagger, albeit slightly drunk, out of the bar that is autism and fucking write about themselves for once! Jesus! Thank god for that. She reminds me of my mother, 'cause my mother pays attention to the KID first and the autism second."
That right there has had my ego boosted a thousand upon a thousand times it's weight, and I have you to thank for it. It made me grin from ear to ear. Hearing that from someone as awesome as you does wonders for my manic panic.
You have only been walking this plane of existence for 18 years and already you have so much wisdom implanted into that little noggin o' yours. I envy you. I truly do. If you continue to pursue your desire of writing, I wish you well in your journey, and when you are so God-damned rich and famous that you don't even have to clip your own toenails anymore, I hope you can still be within my reach. You are truly just THAT FUCKING AWESOME.
And Billy!! I've always wanted to read The Silmarillion. Never did get the chance though. Tolkien totally puts me out, but in a good way. :)
Those Uruk-Hai could use a good potato wedged between their thighs. Those fuckers get on my nerves to NO END!! When that jerk-off killed Boromir in Fellowship, I wanted to shank his ass right then and there. What was Saurumon thinking??? :D
Sex....I did not realize that. Interesting. And yes, it WAS very well done, was it not???:)
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