Okay, since I started the Scary-Crayon blog I haven't been so quick to mention site updates over here (if I mention them at all), but as I'm particularly pleased with the first part of this latest film review I invite y'all to check Protégé de la Rose Noire, Partie Une out. It's pretty much work-safe, though there is one instance where the word "fuck" appears in large type on screen -- but seeing as how that's the part where I'm talking about the castration robot, I think it's wholly justified. I mean holy fuck, the thing castrates men. It's a Castraticon. Megatron might turn into a gun and shoot you, but this robot will cut your penis off (if you have one). Prime only turns into a truck. Anyway, go read!

First, thanks to all of the folks who've wished me a happy birthday thus far! And thanks to Mickey and Molly for prezzies. 🙂

So just because it's my birthday doesn't mean I don't have stuff for you -- head on over to Scary-Crayon for two new pieces: Dusty Plastic HELL: Hot Flash #51 and Hell Nooooo Nurse! I'd actually submitted the latter to The Black Table for potential posting there, but after a couple of queries I didn't hear back from them so I'm guessing they didn't like it. That's cool, though -- Scary-Crayon actually got started up because I'd written so many unwanted articles that I figured I might as well post them somewhere. Much like my room, SC is a junkyard of random and wacky crap.

All for now -- ja ne, minna-san!

I've been wanting to write something here, but lately I haven't had the energy to write much of anything. Well, I've gotten two Scary-Crayon articles up this week -- The Infernal Realm of Paid Surveys and Spider-Man is gross -- but that's about it. I've been sleeping 16 hours a day and feeling like crap and doing little when I am awake. Meh.

So I was lying in bed the other day at 4 PM and was thinking to myself that since my dreams are both more interesting and preferable to my waking life, I may as well just go ahead and end it all. If death is like a long sleep, then it'd definitely be an improvement, and if it's nothing at all... it'd still be an improvement. And then I slipped into sleep and had a strange dream. I was somehow living alone in this house that was apparently based on my current one, but things were in different places -- sort of like when you play a video game in the special "arrange" mode that mixes up the locations of the puzzles. Or maybe all houses share certain similarities. Anyway, the kitchen was on the second floor, the cereal pantry was in the dining room as opposed to the kitchen -- things like that. But there was no furniture anywhere in the house save a small portable television and a telephone on the wall.

Everything looked grey. The wind outside was whipping so fiercely that all of the doorknobs shook as if someone were trying to get in -- and all of the locks appeared to be broken or loose such that I had to struggle against the wind to keep the doors closed. And judging from the fact that my suitcase was open and in a different location from where I had placed it -- apparently I had packed all of my few possessions in this place into a suitcase; I think I had just arrived there -- it seemed as if someone had been inside, but nothing was missing.

But what struck as being most interesting about the dream was that I kept thinking to myself that if I stayed in this place a little longer I would find out why I was there, though I couldn't remember at that moment. The next morning, when I woke up and began to get ready for work as part of my routine, would it strike me then? Or when the landlord or whomever called and/or showed up to collect rent -- I assumed I was paying rent on the place -- would he/she have proof of employment that would tell me where I was supposed to be? Or was I living in the place with a roommate -- it was a pretty big place for just me -- who could tell me what was going on when he/she got in? And even if none of these things obtained I was certain that I would remember why I was there with just a little more time -- when the wind stopped and the sun shone in through the dusty windows and the doors stopped making so damned much noise.

I woke up before any of that happened. When I realized where I was, my first thought was, "Okay, maybe my dreams aren't preferable to my waking life." But then I thought that they were definitely more interesting -- and now, considering the certainty I had that things would somehow come together, maybe that dream was preferable to my present state after all. Of course, my thinking that things would've come together doesn't necessarily mean that they would have -- or that I would have continued to feel so confident about my unusual predicament.

My dreams last night were much more exciting, but I can't quite recall what they were about.

And my birthday's next Tuesday. It's going to suck, like it did last year and the year before that. The year before that it wasn't so bad, but that year I was in school and some people actually came by to hang out with me for a bit. Wonder how they're doing.

Ja ne.

Yeah, I made a Cafepress store for the site instead of sleeping last night. Shirts are available there! There's even a dog shirt! Additional details can be found in Scary-Crayon's blog. Ja!

Quick post before I shove off to bed. First, Scary-Crayon was updated tonight, so if that at all interests you, go have a look. I mention it here because it's a pretty serious piece -- a book review cum sociolinguistic (?) commentary -- and since it's more in the vein of something I'd write here, if you find my observations on Wesoteric to be interesting, you may find that piece to be a worthwhile read as well. And since it's on SC, if you've got comments, I invite you to share them with the class over there. (more...)