An Uneasy Calm

 Tomorrow was supposed to be my last day of employment at my current job. They were downsizing and there was nothing that could be done to keep me in my current position. I've been looking for other job openings and getting myself in the cold, unfeeling state of mind one needs to be to whore themselves out for rent money. Then just yesterday, my boss comes up and asks if I can stay and help on an extended project, which means I retain my current employment. The boss said that this project will last "a while"; and while "a while" as a unit of measurement is about as useful as a second asshole, I'll take what I can get.

SPACEDOOM is coming along. I originally wanted to say it was coming along nicely, but I'm not sure if nicely would be the correct term for my feelings on this project. I have to admit, I'm equally delighted and freaked out by the random shit I'm coming up with for this story. My current take on it is, if something I created can warrant comments like this:

Are there two beautiful young women being held captive? Or are the president's daughter and leader of Babeulon one and the same? Does Jamie even know yet? I can't decide?

Then I must be doing something right. By the way Randy, they are being held against their will, Professor Apocalypse is a bastard like that. And no, I don't even know yet. I used to have an idea what was going on with this story, but it started doing it's own thing several chapters ago.

I've finished the latest editing on Wayward 2, and right now the only thing holding it up is my abilty to pay for it's printing. With Christmas and the up-until-yesterday understanding that I was going to be unemployed, shelling out money for printing was at the bottom of my survival priorities. Now that I'm not soon-to-be broke, I'll have to take another look at my situation.

Artwork on Wayward 3 is coming along nicely, but the book is long as hell, don't expect to see it completed, edited, and printed anytime soon.

If you've seen the news recently, then you probably know that Rod Blago-whatever-the-fuck-it-is, our state governor, as recently been busted trying to sell the senate seat recently made vacant by Obama's presidental victory. I have to admit I get a sick pleasure out of turning on the local news or opening a newspaper to see picture after picture of our governor with that scared kid look on his face. He's a twat. He's a corrupt twat and I hate him. I hate him so much that I can't even be arsed to go and look up how to properly spell his last name.

Damn this entry sucks. I blame the weather. It's so fucking cold out there that I can't even hate properly. PROTIP: Never shave your head a month before Chicago winter sets in, moron. Hopefully, I'll be able to post some more worthwhile inane rambling bullshit once my brain thaws.