Housekeeping...

For those of you who are in the "know," I do quite a lot of wordsmithing around here. On occasions I run out of stuff to write about, and mostly then I just post links to stuff I think is kinda cool. Sometimes when I'm tapped, and there's nothing cool to link too, I just don't put anything up.

However lame it may be to not post anything, there are always ideas floating around...ideas that might make the beginnings of a good/great posts (only two options here at Fjord...well maybe STUPENDOUS...but we all know that's a rarity, which is why stupendous isn't a word thrown around lightly at cocktail parties. (except by really really drunk fellas'.)) So for today, I wanted to throw out some ideas that didn't make posts this week.

1) Writing. Ya, I know, I've written about how hard writing is before, but this is different. See the closest skill I can compare writing to (um, at the moment...don't push me or I'll bring up the super particle collider) is knitting.
See, to be a writer, you've got to stitch together words, that make some sort of sense, and don't have a whole lot of glaring mistakes, in order to make a whole. However, when someone asks, "What do you do?" And you say, "I'm a writer," well, they're just going to have to take your words for it. Or, if they're really ambitious, they can ask to "see" some of your writing. This implies they Want To Read Your Words. Even if you happen to have a manuscript on you, there's basically no way of making sure they read it. (even if they think it's crap, at least they would have to read it first.)
However, someone who knits has something really tangible at the end. A scarf, afghan. When someone says, "Oh, you're a knitter, what do you knit." You could say - this sweater I'm wearing. That's why being a writer is hard, much like knitting, if you ain't doing it, you're not a knitter, er...a writer.

2) My bathroom. Jeeeeeeezus! This is an ongoing saga, that really, I can't even go into, other than it's lasted three weeks, and since Monday, I've been taking showers in the upstairs bathroom...horrible. Perhaps if I have a spare moment this weekend, I'll go into detail. But it's got lots of dust, grime, and mmm...plumbing. (no, it's not THAT kind of tale...sickos)

3) I've recently started advertising on Craigslist for sex-partners who have a serious cleaning fetish. I figger if I can get just a few over to the Casa, by the time they realize I'm not into them, they'll have cleaned up more than I could in a week.
And if I am...Jackpot!

4) And next (and foreshadowed buy #3 nicely don't-cha' think?) Dario Tsunami and Island Breeze Kitty are splitzville. I suppose it was too much to hope for with monikers so very diverse. I did some noir-detective-esque thinking on this and came up with this line.

"I should'a known when she started working for the Magic Kingdom, that we were through."

Don't get me wrong, it was nice, and not one hard feeling. But it's been lurking in my brain for a while.

5) Finally...today, I wrote out (I have excellent handwriting BTW, you'd be pleased as punch to read any words I wrote out in script...) the most AMAZING "B" ever scribed by a pen. I showed it to numerous "others," and they all agreed, it was the most ass-kicking "B" they'd ever seen. If I get my grubby little hands on a scanner, I'll show it too yas! Really.

6) Oh- ONE MORE! I had thought of expanding on this line, I wrote quite a while ago (read...within the last decade or two) it was the beginning of a song which never panned out. (what? you didn't know I was a songsmith either? Oh, well, yeah, I dabble)
Here it is.
Well, there's two good things that I know about.
One is getting in.
The other's getting out.

And now my brain is rid of all that. Next up...something to do with Friday.

-Tsunami-