Daddy's got a new .45

I was going to post word count, but I keep getting distracted by this gawdawful Jam Session commercial that uses "Santeria". This is on par with the "Lust For Life" cruise commercials. I would not think twice to stick a barrel straight down these writers' throats. Believe me when I say I've got something for their punk asses.

Also, I love Henry Rollins. Even if he does have some lousy bands on his show.

However, Bruce Campbell's Old Spice commercials might make up for it.

Not enough random things to make a real post

Found via cmpriest, Dangerous Detritus. And now I has a new shiny. And the burning need to write a feminist rebuttal of "The Thing on the Doorstep." Especially if I could incorporate it into a Cthulhu Doo story. Oh, Brain, thou art hateful.

Now I need to reread "Ebb", as an Asenath story would probably contradict what I said there. Oh well. Even angels screw up from time to time.

It's looking like I won't meet my short story goal this year, either, but I'm feeling a lot better about that than I did last year. Luckily, it is looking like I'll finish the novel, so that takes a lot of the sting out.

I also wonder, as I do every so often, how I could acquire a sweatshop full of slave-animators. Dreams and its sequels make such a lovely anime in my head.