Dear Bloggy Friends:
I'm sorry. I haven't felt very bloggy lately. In fact, I've felt downright shitty. Not sickly shitty, but the kind of shitty you feel that drives you making a chamberpot a metaphor of your life.
Things around MJenks Central haven't been nearly as chipper as, well...oh, fuck it. I am not in the mood for similes. I've just been battling a spate of empty-checking-account depression coupled with burgeoning-mountain-of-debt despondency with a tad bit of "where did my life go wrong?" which has reduced me--almost!--to tears. But, since I'm a man, I don't go in for that shit. I just do my crying on the inside, where it's just me, a bunch of rats, some gray mist, and the backs of all the mirrors in the world. The plus side? I'm naked and don't care that I'm fat.
In order to combat this downward emotional spiral, I've been burying myself in escapist activities whenever I'm not pretending to be working and/or driving to and from work. I've been playing a lot of Civ III, because shooting Egyptians takes the edge off. When I'm done with Civ III for the night--you know, that point where my eyeballs feel as if they're about to invert--I turn the computer off and I read until I'm so exhausted that I tumble into a dreamless sleep. The alarm goes off, I spend five minutes mentally bemoaning my situation, and then I start the whole thing over anew: work, eat, Jeopardy, shoot Egyptians, mentally masturbate to the genius of Neil Gaiman.
This leaves little time for bloggy goodness. It's not that I don't have posts lying around the in the darkened corners of my creativity; I have plenty of them. So many, in fact, that I forget them, only to remember them after I've furiously tried to cobble together something to entertain you during the last shredded dregs of my lunch hour. It's just...I have to think in order to put the words together in what I perceive to be the correct order to deliver my inner machinations in a subtly amusing and somewhat piquant manner. And, well, to be honest, thinking is not something I want to be doing a lot of right now.
At the same time, I haven't been reading nearly as many of your fine blogs as I would like. I'm sorry. I'm just...well, I'm funky, and not in the jive-talking, afro-wearing style. More like the...*shudder*...emo kid...*shudder again*...style. Frankly, I do not wish for my melancholy to drag down your comments section. Unless you're Vic, in which case, I'm actually kind of proud of my chamberpot metaphor.
Because I never metaphor I didn't like.
I wish I could take credit for the sheer genius of that terrible pun, but it's actually a book title.
Speaking of books, hey! I wrote one. Well, it's still a manuscript. If you and I are facebook friends (which we are), then you know that I submitted the manuscript for The Boar War to a publisher last night. It's the first time in about a year that I've submitted anything. Apparently, somehow, someway, my brain finally registered that whole "you can't get your manuscript published if you don't submit it for publication and/or representation". Amazing, isn't it?
In short, my bloggy friends, I am sorry for not being a better bloggy friend. I'd offer hugs, but you know I'd just try to grab your ass, and some of you think that would be "creepy" and "out of line" and "something I don't want to subject myself to." Pfft. Philistines. I will try to remedy this situation as soon as I scrape together $1,000 possible. And by "situation" I mean my melancholy mental state, not my desire to feel you up whilst embracing you. I'll never sacrifice that.
Cordially yours,
MJenks (not so indefatigable these days)
PS: American Gods is awesome. You should read it.
1 day ago
19 comments:
The chamberpot metaphor was a thing of beauty, but I'm sorry that it came from real pain. It's been hard for me to write lately too - the world is just a little hostile for my taste these days.
I'm glad you're around. Big virtual hug here (but squeeze my ass and you're a dead man. :)
I'm sorry to hear about this, buddy. Congrats on the book, though! I do hope things straighten out for you soon. Let's get you back to jive-talking at once, shall we?
((hug))
Oh, go ahead and squeeze it. Just don't say I never gave ya' anything. ;)
This is why the wife and I opted to have 4 tax credits instead of just 2.
And let's just punch each other in the shoulder real manly like. I'm not a fan of hugs. Unless you have boobs.
dude. it must be going around. *consoling pat on back* i feel you brotha.
Yeah. I know how this shit is. And wait, you have a FINISHED manuscript? Like a finished one that you've actually completed??? I am in jealous rage, I mean awe.
Feel better! I recommend trolling on Ann Coulter fansites.
Philistine.
*second thoughts*
Sorry to hear about this melancholic cheque-book-checking period my friend. And if I were you, I'd blow up those rats, that wouldn't make you feel better I reckon.
I'd read your book I expect, especially if it is all about boar fights.
I, for one, both enjoyed and registered concern re: the chamberpot metaphor. I'm very sorry to hear that you're down. I've been diagnosed with depression twice in my life, and it is, to turn a phrase, a bitch. All I can say is that it does end, it will turn around, and even in this state of mind you absolutely do write well, write succinctly, and amuse the hell out of me.
Bloggy hugs and, given enough time, a drunken kiss as well,
Pearl
*golf claps all around* congrats on finally submitting something to be published!
We all have our sour sucky moments.
Oh, and you can squeeze my bottom anytime, it's raw quality ass. Hm, that sounded a little perverted. Meh, then all is alright in the world!
Almost.
Now I'm just rambling so I will leave now.
Bummed (pun intended) about your depression, but pumped (oooo, hey another pun, NOT intended but there it is) about your manuscript. Hang in there, mister!
Hey, I hear ya. Hope you're back to grab-assing happiness soon!
Good luck with the book. BOTH THE ONE YOU WROTE AND THE CHECKING ONE. AND YES, MY CAP LOCKS GOT STUCK DOWN AND i AM NOT GOING BACK AND FIXING THAT SHIT NOW.
Remind me to wear my baboon prosthetic for extra safety when I comment over here.
Congrats on the book, hope they make a publishing deal with you. Let us know when we can preorder.
I'm proud of you on the finished MS. You are on your way.
Doesn't money suck? The lack of it, actually, is what sucks the most.
I have to be around money literally, alldaylong.
Sometimes I look at hundreds and think about how sad it is that I am holding in one hand a dollar amount that I won't make in two years.
But then I divide out the amount of that which is my credit card debt, compare the two, and find that the debt pile is clearly much smaller.
(But, still sickeningly large.)
Shit, I was supposed to be making you feel better. *turns around.* just grab my fucking ass or something.
Nothing pithy to say. I tried putting on my pithy helmet, but it didn't work.
I sympathise, sir. Money is preying heavily on the baldy noggin at the moment, too. Here's hoping for that lucrative light at the end of the tunnel...
Ah, money. She's a crueler mistress than fate. I feel your pain, brother.
But chin up! You're going to be a famous writer soon. And loaded.
*turns around to make it easier for you to get a good handful of backside* XOXOX
I am right there with ya. Been in a FUNK of sorts myself.
I need to shake it off but damn if I just don't have the effing energy to give a damn.
Rob a bank, grab a hot waitress's ass, and smile...for god's sake...smile!!!
OK....the first two ideas might not be great...but they could be fun.
Sorry to hear you're down....(or rather, were down when I read this...I'm catching up on my blog reading....again). :-)
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