Women. Apparently women do things to the male psyche that’s good for it. Or maybe it’s just the whole “I like you. You like me? Yes!” thing. Or maybe it’s friendship, closeness in general. Anyway, I’m kind of seeing a friend of mine, uh, loosen up in ways I didn’t know he was too tight. […]

Food Tried out a new technique for pork chops on Wednesday: brining. (Most of you can just skip this.) Brine: 4c (1 quart) water, 1/4c. salt, 1/4c. sugar. Marinate for 1 1/2 hrs, then grill, roast, or broil. Very nummy.

Tai Chi I went to my first class last night, here. I’m still trying to understand. It was good. That much I know. I woke up this morning with little soreness (mostly in the ankles, what there was of it), but my skin was waxy. Waxy! Not oily. Not sweaty or sticky. No. Pardon me

In case ye’ve not heard, the group from Florida (Roland, Philip, and Sharon) are coming to Colo. Spgs. from the 13th to the 18th. Also Steve Tooms (did I spell that right?) may be accompanying them. More than this I do not know even as a solid rumor. Much gaming is scheduled to be done.

Doyce came over on Wednesday, finally! I wonder if he has dreams about his cel phone in which it doesn’t ring–it crawls out of its holster, and sloooowly creeps up his shoulder and whispers in his ear, “Phone call, ssssir…” Then it clasps his ear in an embrace best described by H. P. Lovecraft. Apparently

Mrs. Kurtz, On Hold, part the fifth. After eighteen minutes, she was no longer amused. “Uh, what freaky messages?” The service engineer sounded sincere. “The messages I had to hear for eighteen minutes by my clock. Can you un-der-stand that? I wasted eighteen minutes of my fucking time waiting for your ass to pick up

Published! The humor/erotica short story, “Customer Service” has been accepted and posted at Hoot Island here. It is, of course, dedicated to Lee. This sort of thing happens to him all the time.

Reviews. V for Vendetta, Issola V for Vendetta, Alan Moore and David Lloyd. Good. Don’t get me wrong. Very good. Not quite good enough. I don’t buy the characters and plotlines the way I could the ones in Watchman. I didn’t care about the whole thing nearly as much. I wasn’t awestruck by literary genius.

The Writing LIfe. You know, there was a big frou frou when people switched from typewriters to word processors. And there’s been another frou frou about contractual rights pertaining to the internet (when a print mag buys FNASR, First North American Serial Rights, does that cover the internet? Are people who are buying stories paying

Mrs. Kurtz ran into a dead end, but she hasn’t died. I wrote the last segment, and it sucked. I haven’t forgotten.