The Friday Nite Game Lee bragged up my write-up of the game over the Starwars Mush (Unsung Heroes), so I guess I better finish it soon, just in case someone’s reading. Yes, there are little changes. I have memory lapses, lapses when the bebe was dragging me around the house, and the demands of fiction […]

Woo Hoo! Ok, so here’s what I’m going to do. First, I’m going to acquire a book. Then, I’m going to read it. Next, I’ll write down what I think about it. Finally, I’m going to be paid…ONE MILLION DOLLARS! Hahahahaha! Phew. Sorry about that lapse, there. Actually, I’m not going to get paid. But

Hula dance volunteers? Guess what I spent 45 minutes doing Thursday morning and getting paid for it? Writing (cough) poetry. Bad poetry. Doggerel. For the usual somewhat-humilitating, always-pointless, ubiquitous, the-big-boss-is-coming greeting skit. The management of our inestimable department, however, picked moi for the task of writing the stuff. Obviously they have more taste than your

Mom Said No. My folks are coming up for the fourth of July. Well, ok, not the fourth of July. They’re driving here from South Dakota–the far end of South Dakota–finding somewhere to camp in between here and there, driving some more, and arriving here on the second. Staying for the third. Then driving to

Raynews. Rachaelroni has a new thing. And it’s a goody. When you open up the colors book, and turn to the orange page, there is, shall we say, a cat. Orange. Not the same color as our cat, who is grey. Point to the cat. Say, “Kitty!” She’ll smile, and try to pull the picture’s

Snippet: And Who Has Honey? Since you’re not going to believe me anyway, I’m going to exaggerate. Once upon a time, there was a village and a castle.. The village was called Wildberry, after the luxurious berries that grew in brambles all along the valley (although the berries were too bitter to eat without honey,

Reviews.The Sun, The Moon, and The Stars; From Hell. These might not be to your taste, but they both kick ass. The Sun, The Moon, and The Stars, by Stephen Brust: This is a good read, if you’re any type of artist or if you find them interesting. Sculpture, theatre, painting, pen&ink, writing (not the

More Englishy goodness. I’m working my way through a stack of murder mysteries set in Minneapolis, The Sun, The Moon, and the Stars by Stephen Brust, and another writing-of-English book. The mysteries I’ll only review if I think they’re good ones. The Sun, The Moon, and the Stars has just been completed, and I need

The Friday Nite Game, Part the Third The sewers beckoned our heroes just like…well, let’s say I have a simile in mind, but we’ll skip it, all right? Black Iron and Nice Guy ferry down the non-flying members of the party onto a stable area in front of the two main sewer lines that the

At some point. When you use humor to keep people at arm’s length, is it still humor? How about charm? Solicitousness? “How’s that baby of yours?” At some point, it becomes obvious that all your humor, charm, and solitictousness aren’t genuine. You aren’t to be touched, you aren’t to be trusted. You’re a good guy.