February 22, 2019

Oh, Bast, It's Back

The pretend bike ride dammit machine. The Woman rolled it into the house tonight because next weeks it's supposed to rain and she's tired of missing rides because she's too delicate to go outside and get wet.

How delicate is she? See that white box with the hose that goes out the window, behind the running dammit machine?

It's a cold air blowing thingy. AND THE HOUSE HAS ONE BUILT IN. But she's a weenie and needs more cold air--and you can't even see the fan in the doorway, just in front of the pretend boat you can't see.

This is all very good for her, but those things are noisy and I'm pretty sure that the bike will eat a kitty if he's not careful walking around it.

There's a purpose to her sudden desire to actually use these things. She has this illusion of getting fast enough to walk/jog this race in San Francisco next year...she's motivated by the hot chocolate they give out at the finish line. Like, woman, you can make that chit here. Or ride your bike the .63 miles to Dutch Bros and get a cup there. You don't need to make a lot of noise here, where I live, just to get something for free there.

She's also decided to do the boobie walk again. Yeah, I know, she was done, it hurts, she's not sure it's a good idea, barfus ad infinitum.


Why can't she just raise the money and stay home?

Oh yeah. Free t-shirt at the end. IT'S NOT REALLY FREE, lady. Cripes, offer someone a big donation to their walk IF they send you their t-shirt at the end. I bet someone would.

Whatever. I have time until that inconveniences me.

The dammit machine? That's a problem NOW.

Maybe it I pee on the chain, she won't be able to use it to make so much noise.

I wonder if I can aim that high.

Welp, there's only one way to find out...

February 20, 2019

I'm leaking....

Doods...today is a day of a whole lot of words off the Bad Word List. And I'm leaking. because Sammy Meezer took off for the Bridge.

Sammy and his brother Miles were old, old friends, and the idea that they're both now gone is just...wrong.They were always fun and funny, and I miss them a lot already.


February 10, 2019

It's his turn in the spotlight

Or it will be if I can pull him away from the TV.

Remember a long time ago I mentioned writing a book in which I interview Buddah? Well, it's happening. The next Wick book is with the primary beta reader so I want to switch gears while that one filters its way through the production line, and resume work on a book about the little freak.

I still have the questions people asked before, but am opening this up to more. What do you want to know about Buddah? What's the question you want him to answer the most? Leave your questions in the comments here and I'll make note of them (well, I'll copy and paste into a Word file because I'm lazy like that) and there's a good chance I'll ask him, either directly or as part of a conversation.

We got started a while ago and have had a lot of good conversations; some of it is stuff y'all know already, but in Buddah's words and his view on things.

Legal chit: Submitting a question here gives me permission to use the question, in whole or in part, without attribution (because I suck at that, and also, because I want the conversation to flow), as part of any edition of this book. That means print in paperback, hardback, digital, or any future means on publication. There's no guarantee that every question submitted will be used, though I may use it later in a blog post or future works.

It's about time y'all got to know him a little better, especially since he doesn't blog anymore.

So...whatcha wanna know?

February 08, 2019

If You Comment And It Vanishes...

Ugh. Technology.
After trying to figure out why one particular person could not seem to comment on my blog or the Woman's blog, we went digging this morning. We dug before, but never found anything odd, but this morning?

Yeah, it seems like a lot of y'all have been caught up in moderation and spam filters. Your comments have been hiding between the 3,087,298 offers of Viagra, Cialis, drugs to make my winky bigger and longer and apparently worthy of making women quiver, and one odd offer to make my clearly luxurious locks smooth and silky and strong enough for someone to grab and hold onto for the ride.

Y'all...I get A LOT of spam and Blogger has been catching 99.9% of it. I did not realize how much. I mean, it's a freakish amount. But it's also--and I cannot figure out why--catching a few of you in its snares and it thinks you're spamming me.

So. We spent a couple hours going through the last 2 years and approved real comments that were snared in moderation, and then changed the moderation time from 5 days to 20. Then we combed through all the spam, found as many legit comments as we could and marked them as Not Spam, so they should be in the comments section now.

If they were older than 2-3 years...yeah, they're probably gone. And I'm sorry. But both filters have been unclogged, and I will make an effort to check them a few times a week to be sure your wonderful thinks aren't caught in an unintended net.

I'm not sure whether to be irritated that so many legit comments were flagged, or impressed by the sheer volume of true spam Blogger catches. But mostly, it's on me for not even thinking to check it more often. If I made a habit of it, the comments would have been found within a day of posting, and I would have had a much easier time finding stuff that was in the middle of the waves of sale pitches aimed right at my tiny, empty junk.

February 03, 2019


Wow, I haven't blogged all year. I missed an entire month there, and then some. I'd blame it on old age and getting forgetful, but it would be mean to tell everyone that's what the Woman's issue is when it comes to helping me type.

This is me, trying to get her to focus. I have to sit on the desk and tap her shoulder every now and then, otherwise she gets lost down the Reddit hole and eventually she starts drooling, her eyes glaze over, and she shows me really stupid things that involve dogs howling or jokes about all the Karens that annoy baristas at Starbucks.

But, lack of blogging aside, we have been working. We're eyeballs deep into The King of Saint Francis (title subject to change) and have started notes for what might wind up being a short story or novella.

'Course, I've said that about stuff before and what started as a novella exploded and turned into a novel.

I'm kinda verbose, it you haven't noticed.

Also, when we're not working, I'm doing a lot of this.

Snoozing on the bed that's under the desk. It's been there for a couple of years but I only recently started napping there. And now I wish I'd given it a good try long ago, because it's quiet there and it's dark, and Buddah leaves me alone.

Yeah, it's kinda dirty because no one thinks to look there and I've gotten a lot of hair on it in the last couple of weeks, but I don't mind. It's all MY fur and not HIS fur, so it's cool.

I do feel kinda bad for Buddah, though.

Y'all know how he likes high places and jumping to get there, right? Well, I'm noticing that more and more he's reluctant to make long leaps like he used to. He's looking for shortcuts to get up high more than he used to. Most of the time when he tries to jump he makes it, but a few times he's fallen short and is 7 kinds of embarrassed about it, and I totally get that so I won't make fun of him for it.

It's tough when you realize you're getting old. And he is, he's 13, almost 14.

So the People are paying attention, so they can figure out how to add shortcuts to his favorite places that don't already have them. Most of them do, and they don't want to discourage him when he feels like jumping because it's probably better for him to stretch his abilities, but they're watching.

He's also bee snoopervising while we work. Normally that would annoy me, but he sits behind the monitor and blocks the Woman's view of the TV, and that's just freaking funny.