MORE meetings...

We just hosted a rather lengthy meeting in which nothing was resolved, things were further complicated and, I'm sure, both parties left feeling slightly more confused. It's already been pointed out to me that I'm looking a bit brain dead.

Well - that's because I'm feeling a bit brain dead. It takes enormous energy, especially for someone like me who never usually minds falling asleep when it's necessary (just ask Finn - he woke me up back in varsity, when I was being kakked out for falling asleep in lectures), to pretend to look interested and to say just the right thing to make the speaker think their opinions are actually being considered.

Right now, I should be trying to get production insurance in order, but I'm not entirely sure that anything I do at the moment would be any more useful than me not doing anything.

It's passed lunchtime on a Friday, and I'm running low on Mint Imperials - my latest drug of choice to stave away boredom and dull the nicotene cravings. And, no, I'm not trying to stop.

"Stopping" is for quiters.

I'm just trying to slow down some. I'm not worried about my lungs. As far as I'm concerned, my big mouth'll probably be the end of me before cancer even has a chance to set in.

I'm worried about my wallet. Might as well be rolling up notes and smoking them directly. Although I don't think the ink's all that good for you.

I need to sit in front of my Mac again - after a long absence. I started on "The Thing That Should Not Be" ages ago, and it's been lying dormant since. That one has a lot of potential in it. My favourite scene involves a fairly detailed description of the inside of a derelict crematorium oven, with claw marks raking through the blackened, congealed fat.

The characters are pretty rounded for once - something I've really been struggling with in the short-story format. Word limits are unpleasant, definitely, but they do help you hone in on the nitty-gritty of the piece.

I like the way that sounds. Makes it sound easy.

Actually, it's pretty fucking hard - but rewarding when you finally get it right.

I still haven't waxed it.

By the way, boys (and I guess some girls), keep your wangers away from the little kiddies. The pic alongside is funny, yes, but not to be misconstrued as endorsement.

You sick bastards.