I’m totally bummed. Distraught even. More sad than a Pygmy at a World’s Tallest Beauty contest. More sad than a German sausage at a German sausage fest when the laiderhausened tourists storm in after a week of dieting. I discovered a web site and writers’ contest called World’s Best Story, which basically looks like a…
Today I had this customer who wanted me to delay a payment on her order and she had a strange way of trying to persuade me. Naturally, I can’t change the fact that money must be paid for services rendered. This is the basis of all business. I can no more change it than I could convince gravity to go upwards for a bit.
I have a theory that everything we do is to get back into the womb. If you think about babies and how they develop this makes everything more clear. Babies love to be wrapped up tight in a blanket, swaddled, because it reminds them of the tight space of the womb where they were so comfortable.
I can’t remember where I learned it. Oh wait, I can. Great opening, Ems. You really planned that one well. It was while I was collaborating on my quirky, supernatural noir thriller about a man who has to conquer his literal demons to get out of the subconscious world he’s trapped in. I met this mysterious girl called Lindsey who wanted to collaborate on something fantastic – by which I mean she just generally wanted to do fantasy. I brought the amazing story – of course.
Unlike Mother’s Day, which falls on different days in different countries – courses for horses if you will – Father’s Day seems to have the same date the world over, or at least, the two countries I have called home and therefore my world. This is one of the reasons that I don’t forget it. The other reason is I had a strange dad.
This blog is going to be all sickly sweet so I’m warning you now. That’s typical me. I never warn you when I’m talking about sex, or swearing my head off or inspiring a story of bloody murder, but if I’m about to get seriously heartfelt and mushy, you get a warning.
Would you be put off if I more frequently discussed sexy topics and spoke more vulgarly? I’m just curious because I know that’s not why some people followed me and I don’t want to disrespect my established fan base.
It was like Jurassic Park, but with monkeys, and I dangled at the top of a giant tree, more than a hundred feet from the grassy fields of earth, desperately holding on and trying to help a monkey that had been bundled in plastic wrap and tied to the trunk. He was screeching and crying. I, myself was terrified of falling or of my pursuers finding me and pounding the living shit out of me.
Now, things have been weird. With all the talk of E3 and the generation of consoles I am missing, the first generation since consoles began in my family, I felt a bit nostalgic for some of the old systems. I dug around in my attic, where I am sure there is an original Xbox somewhere, hiding like a wanted criminal amongst dust and mite, waiting for a chance to make his move and ride a motorbike to Vienna. No, wait, wrong flashback.