Mojo

It's that time again. The personal life is stagnant. All the friends are either far away or might as well be as they get all schmoopie with their significant others instead of hanging. No friends. No girl. No one interesting. No one even remotely intriguing. The newest prospect also became one of the most irritating. Sweet to controlling bitch in under six seconds. Somebody call Guinness, I've got a record for them and would like a beer.

But that's fine. Every once and a while it pays to be brought back down like that. That's when it becomes time focus on everything else. Media. Culture. History. Politics. Information. Information. In. For. Mation.

There's books to be read. Stacks of them, prose and comic alike. David Eggers doing the Lost Boys. Chuck Palahniuk doing a faux oral-biography. Another, truer Oral-Bio on the legend, Hunter S. Thompson. Nothing has ever been truer than HST. Buy the ticket, take the ride. Get through these and buy some more.

Comics. So many comics. Doug TenNapel's awkward, thick lines forming his wild imagination. A phone book of Tom Beland. A smattering of First-Second and Top Shelf. Always the goods. And some "retro". A run of New Teen Titans literally as long as my arm. A new stack of floppies every week. Where do we find the time?

Movies. NetFlix, bringing me dozens of flicks I missed the past year despite making over fifty trips to the Loews. Mostly Indie, but also some classics. Summer Blockbusters galore, thanks to the comic book industry. Hulk was the most recent with almost a dozen weeks straight of something cool or at least humorous looking coming from here out. Makes me almost wish I knew what a Friday night off was like.

Music. Concerts keep on coming in. Alkaline Trio in under two weeks. The Gutter Twins next month. NOFX and New Found Glory coming to the Burgh this fall. Fuck I wish the Warped Tour hadn't gone to shit. New discs by the Briggs, the Trio, and Less Than fucking Jake all in the next month. Still to comes in '08 by NFG, Bouncing Souls, Rancid, Ryan's Hope, Rise Against, The (International) Noise Conspiracy, maybe even Madcap and so on. I think I just filled the cup...

Politics. We have a race now. One man is preaching Hope and Change (we'll see). The other is fighting a war on senility (Patton wept). We fuck this up and we at least we'll be able to tell our children (well, your children. The only "offspring" I want is the 18 year old Brazilian gal I plan on "adopting" when I hit nearer my 40's) that we were there for the death of an Empire. There's research to be done. Candidates to be evaluated. Judged. Scrutinized. Will you be our guy (or gal, I'm no sexist)? Or will I be sharpening my blades to crucify you with later? There's people to feed, homes to build, jobs and industries to bring back home, and soldiers that need to see their families again.

DON'T. FUCK. THIS. UP!!

Productivity. There's reviews to be written. Comics do come out every week you know (thank god). Interviews need conducted (why they come to me, I don't fucking know, but they do and I like to help out when I can). Maybe even some scripting to be done. Who knows? I still think I suck, but might as well try to not. Body needs work. Muscles are getting to where I want them, now it's time to see those abs better. Sprinting needs to be done. Gains need to be pained. Let's get that body fat %age down and try and snag a tan while we're at it shall we? Job is bringing me down again, let's work on that too. Boss is a lazy fucking loud-mouth, maybe we should go some place where he's not. It's a start. Hop to.

Might be time for another tattoo, but I really have an eye on a Flat Panel by summer's end. Hrms...

There's a start. A guideline. Let's see if it holds. Five hours of sleep now, followed up by 18 hours of exercise, work, the written word and some video gaming glory. Again I say: Buy the Ticket, Take the Ride.

Cheers...