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Showing posts from August, 2017

The Hardest Part of Writing with a Dash of Folly

I've never been a fan of editing and re-writing.
I know you're sitting there thinking, "Damn Todd. No Way. Your blogs are always so clean and polished with nary a typo or dangling participle to be found. You must surely edit all the livelong day!"
And while it's true that I try not to dangle too much on my blog, participle or otherwise, I don't really edit much. Mostly for typos. Any content editing to this little kaleidoscope of consciousness is usually done on the fly.  I know. I know. I hide it incredibly well. 
Well, I mean, I'm a professional. That's what I do.
You know what else I do?
And by that I mean, you know what else I do now?
Now I edit.
And I rewrite.
Here's the story...I never used to. I mean, not seriously. I would look for misused punctuation and the like, but I rarely took the hatchet of the red pen to my work. I was content to do my in-line editing and revising in the manner that had served me so well in the blogosphere.  I mean…

Social Media Jail and a Writing Tracker Update

Just Like Otis in Mayberry

If you have taken the time to actually read through the user agreement associated with your Bookfacing account, first let me offer my sympathies. The thing is beastie and dry and somewhat convoluted.  But, it does detail things that can cause the big Blue F to put the smack down on you, account wise. The punishments range from a virtual slap on the wrist to being banned from the social media site altogether.

I had a friend locked from posting for 'liking' too many posts. Another for putting too many URLs to other sites, so the offenses can run the gamut.

I awoke yesterday morning to find that I had been put in to Facebook Jail. I had, somewhere along the way, violated the terms of service of the book of Face. It was a valid infarction and I own it. What it was isn't as important as the effect it had on me for the next 24 hours.

Because of the violation, I was barred from posting anything, commenting on anything, even hitting the 'like' on…

Shakubuku Part Two: Eclectic Booglaloo

I posted on the book of face recently that I felt out of sorts. The gist of it being I couldn't decide if I was hungry, horny, or on the verge of some existential shift that would lock me in closer to my purpose on this earth in this particular lifetime.

I still felt that after eating. So I know it wasn't the hungry part of the equation.  And I'm always horny, or most always. So I can eliminate that as it's pretty much a constant.

Which leaves the existential shift.

That seems more likely.

And after yesterday, I'm pretty sure that's the case.

I'm going to start by saying that part of me wasn't quite sure what to expect with my outing yesterday.  I know full well that the first part of what I'm about to say could paint me in the light of being a tremendous asshole. To an extent, this is accurate. I'm hoping, though, that the realization I achieved  by the end of the afternoon has some redeem quality.  I mean, it did for me, so there's that.

S…

That Shakubuku That You Do

If you have not yet seen the John Cusack staple, "Grosse Pointe Blank," you need to. I won't even go in to all the reasons why. Or the fact that they shot basically 3 different versions of the film and mixed the best scenes from all three versions for the final version we have.  Just trust me on this-you need to see this movie. And by "need to see this movie" I mean this. If you truly want to understand the way my mind processes some of the existential shit that I throw my way, you need to see this movie (see also "Say Anything," "High Fidelity," and "The Matrix.").

OK.  Just bookmark this page, take about 107 minutes out of your life and see the movie. I'll wait.

Cool. Welcome back.  SEE?!?!? RIGHT??  I know. It's ok. You didn't know, but now you do.

Alright. There's a scene in Grosse Pointe Blank that pretty much mirrors what happened to me 2 nights ago. You see, I was a hit man and I was going back to my high sch…