It’s been nine days since I last posted something.

It’s not from being lazy.

Tomorrow I am going to the Sacramento Comic Con as my pre-fathers day gift to myself. Well the wife did help out by allowing me to go (does that sound whipped? Somebody had to watch the kids, so no. And you can go suck it.) She isn’t interested in going as she lacks the midichlorian gene.

What else…

My phone died, or at least the main memory on the unit died. Lost most of my photos and movies of my kids over the past few months. I did a partial offload of some of the pictures just a few weeks ago but didn’t get it all off.

I just finished revising chapter (18)21 of Mr Kobayashi novel. That was the last chapter that my compatriots in my online writing group got through. I can guess as to what you might be thinking, “What’s with the numbers being (in)&out of paragraphs?” Well the (in) is the original chapter number when it was my first draft and the outer is the new chapter number going forward in my second draft. My first draft came in at 71,000 words and that was at 35 overall chapters. Right now at 18/21 I have inflated it a full 12,000 words. I tend to be a bit sparse when I’m just getting it out. In my second pass I tend to fill in the holes, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. As its looking right now I expect to be between 90-100,000 words when finally done. Anyway I started going through chapter (19) on my own just today but only got a paragraph and a half into it before the squirrel in my brain got me interested in watching the michael bay commercial called Tran$fortunes 4. It’s a movie about selling toys to stupid people in the form of an hour and a half long product placement add. Needless to say the immature side of me was interested in checking it out but felt resentful of spending $15 to sit through something with no plot and no focus (unless you include the gratuitous eye candy thrown in – the inner twelve year old inside of me demanded I add that last part.)

So my day today as been fifteen minutes of writing, most of a movie watched, spending time getting and figuring out my new phone. As I sit down to drivel on about my exciting life I notice that its almost 4pm. And there is one less day of my life I am never going to get back.

Thanks michael bay.

In closing I guess maybe it is from being lazy…but maybe I’m just not ready to admit it.

I mean I have been busy at work and since joining CritiqueCircle I have been busy reviewing other peoples works during my train time to and from work. So maybe I just need some nothing time. And by defining nothing I am once more drawn to the talents of michael bay and his Tran$fortunes movie.

Hey michael bay, Tran$fortune this… “ourY oviesM uckS”

Signed,

An insulted twelve year old.

That is all…

Viva La Boobies!

When I count I typically count my numbers numerically.

Example..

9,10,11,12,13,14

Notice how they increase in value in whole number increments.

Google play on the other hand plays by its own set of rules as seen below.

They do it as “11,13,12”

Yes I know it’s done alphabetically but it’s friggin annoying.

So is the grumply old man coming out in me or is it the stupid teenager who likes to poke fun at stupid things?

Maybe a little of both.

U.F. google play services

Yes I know what you are thinking… “U.F.?”

Well just change the letters around and see what you get.

😛

This grumpy old teenager is OUTTA HERE!

If you want to look for me my user name (grumble grumble) is “WriteDave.” Apparently adding three additional letters was too much for their system.

I’m about to do my first review.

Yippie (yes half sarcastic)

Yes it is 6 months out from Christmas.

I am thinking I am going to alter the use of the word “Christmas” to now become “Costmas”

Think about it.

Six months early, “Merry Costmas to you.”

So I wrote my Mr K story over early summer of 2014. I then began posting it on my online writing group and over the course of every bodies unique lives the group kind of fell apart. Thankfully two members got all the way through chapter 18 before puttering out and disappearing from the board.

My story was 34 chapters long.

So halfway read through.

As of December of 2014 I started reviewing their notes and have now basically caught up to where they left off in forging my second draft.

So now what….

I “NEEDED” their insights as I find that I am blind to my own shortcomings. I am currently actively pursuing looking for new peeps to help read through my book and point out where my blindness has made me stumbled.

Oh and on top of all that I just lost my in progress revision of chapter 18 … again. I really love dropbox but sometimes the interwebs magic mojo just f’s things up with its syncing.

Now I do have my in person group but they only do one chapter a month and even then it’s not a guarantee. I just shared with them chapter 5 (2nd drafted).

1WP

This is something I wrote on my train ride into work. (1st draft)
Tony E. Milf
2015.06.04

Biochemicals of the brain.
Humans are several million years old and yet we have only been actively studying ourselves for the better part of several thousand years. Even then the technology Renaissance which ushered in marvels such as the MRI scanner have not even existed the length of a single human lifespan.
We know nothing.
I know nothing.
She knows nothing.
Yet she insists she knows more than me. What a bitch.
I start to stand, “I think I’m done for the day.”
Her brows scrunch above her eyes. “Is something the matter?”
Not expecting the challenge, I mean I know she is my therapist but I pay her, this isn’t court ordered or anything, I fumble for words. “I… I just don’t feel like it.”
I can tell by the look in her eyes she is upset and yet relieved. She doesn’t want to be here any more than I do. Her days have her indentured to the all mighty dollar just like the rest of us fools. Well not me, at least not for the next seven hours and forty some odd minutes. Today I am playing hooky.
She asks, “You know I am going to have to charge you a full session-” I cut her off with a nod and make my way towards the door. I can’t get out of there fast enough.
I’m halfway down the hall before I think to tap the front right side of my pants pocket to feel for my keys. They aren’t there. I can feel myself wanting to scream in agitation.
The juvenile part of my mind says, “Don’t stop, just keep going.”
Another louder part says “Just go back and knock on the door and tell her your keys must have fallen out of your pocket, stuff like this happens all the time.”
The whimsical part says, “This is a sign, you didn’t really want to leave. You need to go back and ask the questions that have been burdening your soul.”
I stop in the middle of the hall and turn back to glance at her room and nearly get run over by a staff member who was following behind me. I hate myself for being the person that I hate in grocery and department stores that just stops in the middle of the aisle without a care for those around them. I mumble out an apology and find myself walking back to the office.
The door is still cracked open and I give a quick knock to it’s outside before making my way through. Wendy is still sitting in her chair and quickly lowers her index finger from her nostril. I quickly look down and try to play it off as I hadn’t been looking but we both know the truth.
This moment further unsettles what little resolve I already had. I turn to leave again as she asks, “Tony?”
I half mumble, “Sorry, it was a mistake” and head back out into the hall.
She calls out again, “Tony” as I can hear her starting to rise from her plastic leather chair.
I find myself pausing in the hall. I don’t know if it’s from a sense of authority or some twisted feeling of vulnerability from having caught her in the moment.
She enters the hall. “Are you okay? Do you want to come back into my office?”
Reluctance.
Guilt.
Defeated.
I turn to face her and unintentionally give a chuckle as part of me half expected to see her finger up her nose again. Thankfully my instincts kicked in without me having to think about it. “I seem to have misplaced my keys.”
She doesn’t buy it, “You look out of place. Are you sure you don’t want to come back in.”
A sense of panic washes over me. “I had thought I might have dropped my keys…in the chair…tried to look.”
“That isn’t an answer to my question Tony.”
I pause and take a deep breath.
I let it out.
“You are right.”
“Tony?”
I meet eyes with her.
“Do you want to come back in?”
A voice in my mind screams in a facsimile of Mel Gibbon’s voice ‘You had freedom and you let it slip through your fingers! You were going to go catch a matinee of the new Avengers movie and then head over to the pizza buffet and finish off the afternoon by spending a few hours checking out all the new toys at best buy. All that is about to be lost!’
“Maybe…”
She smiles and nods.
I give a weak smile back.
She then starts to head back to her office and I’m left thinking ‘It’s not too late, you can still run.’ It’s a ruse and I know it. I can’t escape. My feet start moving me back towards her office.
I enter the office and there in the chair where I had been sitting I can see just a sliver of metal reflecting a glimmer of light back at me. There, stuck between the cushion and the inside wall, are my keys. I have to go in to retrieve them. A fish sounding voice cries out from the back of my mind, ‘It’s a trap!’
Begrudgingly I step in. ‘No. It has always been a trap, I exist within the trap.’
Without fully realizing it I find myself sitting back down as I reach down to secure my keys. I think ‘Why did I have to sit down again? I could have just gotten them without sitting back down again.’
She says, “Whenever you are ready.”
I feel myself quivering. I want to get out. I want to flee. I want to be free. “My wife…she doesn’t love me in the ways I need her to love me.” I take in a deep breath and exhale adding, “How do I get my wife to love me again?” I look down and right at the keys that now lay between my fingers.
I can hear her take in a deep breath.
“Love is…love is different to each and everyone. I can’t say what she feels as only she knows. The biochemicals of the brain are stimulated-”
As soon as those word escape her mouth I feel my mind shutting down. I hear nothing else. My heart and mind feel trapped.

And for those of you brave enough to finish this I thank you.

Tony E Milf = Ton yM Eilf = Not My (real) Life

Yes I am a sucker for the pun’s and I couldn’t resist. Besides who doesn’t love a good Milf (STORY..milf STORY!)

😛

-Qyburn

I watched GoT episode 8 last night and let me tell you it gave me a chubby.

What? I’m not rambling about other stuff and ignoring saying anything about writing?

Hahahahhaa, you naive fool!

I started up again on cleaning up my Mr. K novel and cleaned up two more chapters. That now brings me up to where my online group stopped reviewing which is right around chapter 18-ish. The reason of the “ish” numbering is that I have split two older chapters due to the addition of extra material to flush out what wasn’t clear enough to my reviewers.

Now that I’m caught up to them I am looking to find another group to utilize in reviewing the rest of the book. A friend of mine plugged “AbsoluteWrite.com” and I plan on joining and making contacts.

The only sad part is now with a new resource it might take some time to get new peeps up to speed with my story. Having a group melt down in the middle kind of sucks. 🙁

So say we all

Every morning, shortly after waking, my body has decided it’s time to poop. I don’t know why it chooses the morning but somehow it got itself on this schedule and won’t relent. Of course there are rare exceptions, like the morning after a night of food poisoned diarrhea but who really wants those.

That is all.