Greetings from the Omnigraphic Blogopticon. On view are vile sticky things dragged from the attic, snarky commentary on the world at large, and all-encompassing ennui. All that and a weird rubbery smell. A horrible time will be had by all.

Saturday, August 27, 2011

Novel Hell


Randomly, here's giant monster Grady checking out the pile of notes I've scribbled to myself at work, stuffed in my pocket, then can't decipher when I come home and sit down to write. He's no help whatsoever because he inevitably tramples his way across the keyboard and I have several of his paragraphs I have to delete. See, he's not terribly good with dialogue and his grammar is haphazard at best.

Oh, and tropical storm winds are beginning to roll garbage cans down the alley because some butthead forgot to put theirs away last night. The doors on my floor are rattling during wind gusts so I suspect there is a window open on one of the other floors but I can't be bothered to go down the stairwell to check.


And for any of you who were concerned about The Vortex (you know who you are), the earthquake did no harm to it whatsoever and brooms still balance. The Vortex also still plays hell with Ocicats' little pea brains and renders them immobile when they sit in that very spot. Eerie, no? No.

2 comments:

Viviana said...

There's nothing like dodging trash cans in 60 (or more) mph winds. During winter storm season, the alley behind my apartment looks a bit like a trash can demolition derby.

I'm expecting you to provide a final tally of the number of weather men blown away in this storm.

PS - When Mount St Helens erupted in 1980, it really weakened the Oregon Vortex, even though earthquakes had never bothered it. Got anything nearby that can erupt?

Severina said...

Hell, I lost count of weathermen blowing past sometime around 7:30. That's kind of the curse of the 24-hour news cycle, plus I kinda wasn't sure if I should count the local guys standing in puddles whining about how wet they were.

Nothing erupts over here except the sewers. Shame we haven't got a volcano. I guess the next thing to hope for is a plague of locusts. It is locust season, you know.