Fuck Whales: My Thoughts

I  didn’t find out about the majesty of Maddox until about 2004.  Even then, I only found out he existed because Steakandcheese.com, a disgusting fucking website I used to love that has long since been replaced by a RedTube clone, shared his article entitled “You’re Not Dave Chappelle, and You’re Not Funny.”  This was the article I gladly shared with all my dipshit classmates who thought saying “I’M RICK JAMES, BITCH!” was an adequate substitute for a joke.  Only to be reminded that I was just as bad about “GET ‘R DONE” as they were with “I’M RICK JAMES, BITCH!”.

Regardless, that article led to quite a few nights of reading, and rereading, and occasionally even rerereading Maddox articles, and absorbing the gospel of the almighty pirate lord into my own being.  He basically writes books, and makes YouTube videos now, but I still follow his work fairly closely.

His latest book, Fuck Whales, is the only book of his that has made it on to Audible.com.  I can see why I’m Better Than Your Kids isn’t there, considering it’s mostly a picture book, but I figured for sure The Alphabet of Manliness would be there.  Unless it has more pictures than I remember.  It’s been a while since my friend and I skimmed through that one.

If you’re familiar with The Best Page in the Universe, then you know exactly what to expect from this book.  I don’t know if there are pictures in this book (I got the audiobook, after all), but I wouldn’t be surprised if there are a few.

If you’ve never heard of The Best Page in the Universe…  Well…  I don’t know what to tell you, except prepare to be called several different variants of idiot while the author explains how he’s awesome, how you’re stupid, and how this or that doesn’t work because reasons.  It sounds offensive when I describe it, but then again, I’m not Maddox.

Maddox himself reads the audiobook, which makes the experience even more awesome.  Both because it’s Maddox, and because I always love it when authors read their own books for the audiobook.  One of the reasons Georges St. Pierre’s audiobook is extremely disappointing.  Well that, and the fact it’s one of the most disjointed autobiographies I’ve read since Hunter S. Thompson, but at least you could say HST was probably on ten different kinds of pills.

Fuck Whales starts off pretty irreverent, with such articles as “Fuck Tables” and “Fuck Horses”.  Eventually, though, it gets into some seriously deep shit with such articles as “Fuck Being Offended”.  You read the first couple essays, and get a good little “tee hee” over the absurdism of having a negative opinion about something like a table.  Then you get into stuff like vegetarians who refuse to eat leftover meat, or how we live in a society where bagging groceries is considered less demeaning than doing porn.  the transition from silly to deep is scemeless, and you don’t even notice it unless you’re really paying attention.

All and all, Fuck Whales is a 256 page ass kicking just waiting to be unloaded onto your brain.  And you owe it to yourself to let this book kick your ass.


new Novella of Highfill, Kansas?

Often times, I have referred to The Novellas of Highfill, Kansas as some variant or another on the term “a writing project I thoroughly regret publishing.”  While the review sections on Amazon, and all the places I submitted them to for reviews have been a regular ghostopolis (IE, dead silent), a couple of readers have insisted I’m too hard on myself.  Well, I suppose the important thing is THEY like what they read.  Lord knows two years later, I don’t like them.

All that being said, I’ve been open to the idea of writing more of them.  The only real guarantee I’ve made in the past is that Jodi LaVey and her wife won’t be the main characters, or really any part of future novels.  Jodi’s story is told, and there’s not much else I can do with it.

I’m really more interested in expanding on the setting, the mindset, the culture…  Or really, just providing Highfill as a setting for miscellaneous novellas that have nothing but the setting in common.  In fact, the only reason The Majin Among Us ended up not being a Novella of Highfill, Kansas was due to its supernatural fantasy elements.  So I had to forge a similar town with Redcrest, and make it a whole separate entity.

I’ve had scribbles of ideas in the old internal scribblepad for other Highfill, Kansas stories.

The oldest of the scribbles was a story under the title of Election.  Gwen LaVey was featured as one of the three narrators who told the story of a democrat’s effort to run for mayor of Highfill against a republican candidate so corrupt that Donald Trump looks like the fucking pope by comparison.  Despite his corruption, though, he’s still the popular candidate on the grounds that, while he’s a misogynist, a racist, an incompetent boob, and a spoiled brat with no social skills, at least he’s not a democrat.  I eventually abandoned it on the grounds it’s basically a fictionalized account of either the 2016 presidential election, or the 2014 governor’s race here in Kansas.  Really, take your pick.  I haven’t deleted the idea, but I don’t plan on writing this one any time soon.

Another idea I’d had sitting around was simply titled Boxmart.  I hadn’t really built much around the story beyond the fact it was set primarily at a big box store creatively named Boxmart, and that Jodi would make a cameo.  This one probably needs more work.

Another idea I had was for a story called Court Case.  Gwen would be featured prominently, but she wouldn’t be any of the three narrators.  I had the beginning, and the ending mapped out… But no middle.  I may tweek this one a little in the future.

However, the most recent of the scribblings is what I ended up picking as my next writing project.

The story is officially titled Sarah’s Phone.  It’s set in Highfill, Kansas, and possesses a healthy dose of the backward dark that made the first two what they are.  However, as I promised before, it has nothing to do with the LaVey family in the slightest.  Also, at the rate things are going, it’s looking like there is only one narrator.  At least in the traditional sense of what makes a narrator, anyway.  If and when I finish this story idea, you’ll see what I mean.

I have no time table for when Sarah’s Phone: A Novella of Highfill, Kansas will be available for purchase, but if it’s anything like the first two, it shouldn’t be especially long.

I’ll be sure to keep ou updated, either her, or on my Facebook, on progress.  All I can guarantee out the gate is that knowing my luck, I’ll probably end up hating it like I hate the other Novellas of Highfill, Kansas a year, or even six months later.  For now, though, I’m interested in seeing where this idea takes me.

The Majin Among Us Now Available!

When Rand Runnels met Debbie, he’d just assumed she was nothing more than an average, plain old girl with nothing really remarkable about her.  That was BEFORE she turned the school bully into a candy bar and ate him.  Rand quickly learns the truth about Debbie and her family.  As it turns out, Debbie is a majin: a pink devil like creature with god like powers.  Unfortunately for Debbie and her family, her actions send the town of Redcrest into a frenzy.  A frenzy that is only provoked FURTHER when Scott, a fellow majin and notorious serial killer, comes out of hiding and begins his rampage through the city.

This title is probably one of the more ambitious things I’ve ever tried to write.  I’ve been hesitant about this one since the moment I completed the first draft.  I wanted a story that seemed offentic, but wasn’t too SJWy.  I’ve expressed my concerns about that in the past, and was met with…  Interesting, responses on the matter.

Contrary to what I may’ve led on in the past, this story originated around 2014, and has undergone several major changes throughout the years.

In the beginning, it was a story entitled Jeremy and the Goth Girl.  There was no racial overtones in this story like there might be in The Majin Among Us, though.  If anything, this story was more of a satirical look at high school cliques and the aquarium we all know as high school.  Debbie was still Debbie, but the main character was originally Jeremy.  Scott…  Well, I hadn’t come up with a name for him yet, but he was still the man-eating demonic entity he is in The Majin Among us.  Sorta.

Around 2017, I was revisiting my old scribble pad between Gael Saga novels, I stumbled across this idea, and began retooling it into a different story.  This one began to resemble more of what The Majin Among Us ended up becoming.  The key difference, though, is that instead of majins, I was originally planning on using ghouls.  The working titles I had were.

A. Little Debbie.

B. My Girlfriend Eats People.

C. Debbie the Ghoul.

Unfortunately, I was two chapters into that planning stage, and I ended up abandoning that idea entirely.  Largely because The Gael Saga was taking shape, and was proving to be a lot less difficult to write for.  Primarily, though, it was because Tokyo Ghoul came out around that time.  MY story had more of a morbid sense of humor, and the main character wasn’t some horrible Frankenstein’s monster made of human and ghoul bits…  But besides those minor details, the premise was alarmingly similar.

Eventually, I finished The Gael Saga, and found myself struggling to come up with a new writing project.  Then, NaNoWriMo came about.

I honestly don’t know why I ended up picking this idea.  Other than the fact this one actually had some planning behind it, I guess.  If there was a logic behind changing all the ghouls to majin, I can’t remember it.

Finding information on majins proved to be difficult.  If there’s any resemblances to Majin Buu from Dragon Ball Z…  Well…  That’s what a lot of the information pointed towards.  I did what I could to make mine unique, but there will almost definitely be someone crying “RIPOFF!” no matter what I do.

So yeah, I guess you could say this story was years in the making.



Rousy in WWE is Kind of a Downgrade

It’s WrestleMania season, which means I’m paying closer attention to WWE and their shinanigans in order to decide if this year’s pay per view is worth buying.  Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to order the Royal Rumble this year, but in this day and age where WWE THEMSELVES upload super abridged versions of every show, it’s no biggy.

Apparently, this year was the year they had their first ever women’s Royal Rumble.  And can I just say, the women’s division in WWE has come a ridiculously long way since  2014.  Last time I watched WWE religiously, Daniel Bryan was still an active wrestler, John Cena was at the height of his obnoxiousness, and the “divas” were an absolute shit show.  God bless Natalya and Beth Phoenix for doing the best they could with the talentless idiots they had to carry.  It was an era when women’s wrestling wasn’t taken seriously, but we couldn’t make them do swimsuit competitions and wrestle in pudding like when The Kat was around.  Well, technically, you COULD do swimsuit competitions, but they were pretty bulky one-piece swimsuits that left a lot to be desired if you were anything but a leg man.  But I digress.  Gone are the days of Kelly Kelly, Candis Michelle, and The Bellas.  Long live the era of Sasha Banx, Asuka, and Bayley.

Okay, getting back on track.

Asuka winning the rumble was the exact opposite of a shock.  The big shock came when Ronda fucking Rousy, former UFC women’s bantamweight champion, came out, and did her big thing where she pointed at the WrestleMania sign.

Ronda Rousy debuting in WWE is one of those moments that causes the roof to come unglued.  People have been talking about Rousy being a wrestler since 2016 or so.  Maybe even longer, for all I know.  This seems like a pretty great moment…

But then a thought occurred to me.  Ronda Rousy actually LOST her last two matches in UFC.  She lost the title to Holly Holme (one of my favorites in the division at the time), and…  I forget who she lost to the second time, but she never got her mojo back from that first loss.

Rousy seemed unbeatable in her championship days.  She was fortunate to be in a real sport, where winning a twenty-five minute match in fifteen seconds is something to brag about.  You pull something like that in UFC, you’ve accomplished something great.  True, it’s probably not a world record (I think Andre Arlovski holds the record for shortest title fight victory ever with a match lasting six seconds), but it’s still something that’d have a lot of shit talkers second guessing themselves.

You try a fifteen second match in WWE, meanwhile, it doesn’t go over nearly as well.  A fifteen second match in WWE is either a comedy spot, or it’s the biggest ripoff ever.  Just take a look at the reaction to Daniel Bryan Vs Sheamus at Wrestlemania28.  Eighteen seconds is not something to brag about in a scripted show.

Ronda Rousy, the woman who beat about ninety percent of her opponents in the first round, suddenly loses her winning ways in a REAL fight, and ends up in a scripted show like WWE?  That seems like a demotion to me.  The same thing happened with Brock Lesnar after he lost to Cain Velasquez.  He just couldn’t win anymore, and had to resort to play-fighting in order to be taken seriously again.  Although Lesnar got his start play-fighting, where as Rousy is just now entering the arena, but still…

I know that sounds kind of demeaning to wrestling fans when I say that.  Believe me, I know what that’s like, having people who not only can’t take your favorite thing on TV to watch seriously, but thoroughly ride your ass from first period to the end of the school day calling you a gay-ass faggot and making fun of you nonstop for liking a fake-ass show.  And yes, I reluctantly own up to being one of those idiots who tried, and absolutely failed at trying to explain the difference between fake and scripted.  PS: don’t ever do that.  It doesn’t improve your case at all.

As someone who likes wrestling and MMA equally, I try to be as diplomatic as possible.

But let’s be honest, guys, wrestling is scripted, and MMA is real.  To go from real fighting to scripted fighting…  Doesn’t that seem like kind of a downgrade?  Sure, Brock Lesnar is built up as this inhuman tank, but in the world of REAL fights, he had to beef up on HGH or whatever just to even stand a chance against some rando heavyweight from the UFC.  I can’t imagine Bobby Lashley’s recent MMA career has treated him any better, considering he’s down in IMPACT right now.  And now Ronda Rousy is taking up the wrestling trade.

I’m not sure what they have planned for Rousy at WrestleMania this year.  Honestly, I’m one of those guys who doesn’t look up the spoiler pages.  I’m subscribed to a wrestling podcast or two that dishes out some back stage news, so I know about stuff like Enzo Amore getting fired recently.  But as for what’s going to happen at WrestleMania…  I’d kind of like to be surprised.

Still, I can’t help but think this is actually a bit of a step down for Rousy.  Especially since MMA guys fucking HATE pro-wrestlers.

There’s definitely some resentment between the two fanbases, and it’s not hard to see why.  A lot of people, including my own mother, can’t tell the difference between the two.  Wrestling sites have, in the past, covered UFC events, which I always found baffling.  MMA fans, meanwhile, tend to get lobbed into the same crowd as wrestling fans, and I can definitely see why that’d piss people off.  It reminds me personally of all those bureaucrats in the Kansas state government who think the school for the blind and the school for the deaf should be the same building.  Because apparently, blind and deaf are the same fucking thing, and if they had it their way, those freaks would all be going to the circus to learn sign language with all the other cripples anyway.  So yeah, I get it.

I really don’t know how to end this ramblefest.  So all I’ll say is that this WrestleMania season is looking kind of interesting so far.  Between this, and the fact they actually DIDN’T let one of The Fortunate Sons win the rumble on the men’s side this year, it might actually be worth dropping some cash on.



Doki Doki Literature Club!: My Thoughts

First and foremost, I feel I have to mention that I’m not much of a visual novel guy.  It’s less of a preference issue, and more of an “I can’t read the fucking text 90% of the time” sort of issue.  If there’s a trendy visual novel making its rounds, I usually check YouTube for a Let’s Play.  Or I guess Let’s Read would be more accurate, since visual novels barely qualify as video games.If I had 20-20 vision, I’d probably be checking these things out myself, but as it stands, I lack that ability.

Another thing I feel I need to get out of the way is I fucking hate dating sims.  I’m no neoliberal social justice retard, proclaiming that the concept of the dating sim somehow demeans women by reducing them to mindless fuck toys or whatever, but I just don’t get any enjoyment out of it.  Dating sims just remind me of how lonely and/or miserable real life is.  They remind me that women are a lot harder to please in real life, and how horribly inaccurate these cartoon women are to the real thing.  They remind me of how I got ghosted yet again by someone I really liked recently, and how I fucking HATE IT when people ghost me.  It doesn’t make you a strong, empowered woman to just disappear off the planet and leave me hanging, it makes you a bitch.  Men don’t like bitches.  Well, MOST of us don’t.  The ones who DO like bitches are the male equivalent of women who like bad boys.  In any case, it thoroughly annoys me, and it annoys me even MORE when I know I’m paying $15 a month for a service to set us up, only for you to be an absolute bitch, and just disappear, and never return any of my texts, and…

I’m pretty sure I was talking about something else a minute ago.

Oh yeah, Doki Doki Literature Club!  I’m not shouting that, by the way: it actually does have an exclamation mark at the end of the title.

DDLC is a visual novel, and it’s a dating sim.  Two strikes right out the gate.  And yet, I soldiered through the videos.  Admittedly, my first viewing came from The Game Grumps, and every other line had something to do with potatoes, or one of the characters being a robot, etc.  It made that first couple of in-game days more bearable.  Then, out of nowhere, the first shocking moment happens in the game, and the entire mood of the VN takes a complete one-eighty.

I won’t give the twist away here.  Instead, I STRONGLY urge you to go to STEAM, and pick the VN up for yourself.  Seriously, don’t worry about the price tag.  It’s free to play, I’m told.

I will say this much, though.  When that shocking moment happens, DDLC takes a SERIOUS left turn in Albuquerque, and becomes the single most fucked up thing I’ve seen in a long time.

Believe me, when it comes to horror, I’m pretty jaded.  I plunged myself into the world of horror films when I became old enough to go to R-rated movies without an adult.  I already owned, and practically masterbated to the Resident Evil games (RE2 in particular).  I was even WRITING horror when I was a second-year-senior in high school.  To put it bluntly, I’ve seen just about everything, and it takes a lot to scare me.

I was fond of Five Nights at Freddy’s at one point, and even then, though I didn’t find it scary.  I found it intriguing, I found the story fascinating, and I found myself wanting more and more until somewhere around Sister Location.  But I never really found it scary.  Sure, the jump scare in every game takes you off guard and panics you, but The Spoony Experiment said it best: “That’s not scary, that’s startling.”

I feel horror has been a very misunderstood genre over the years.  People like Eli Roth took the horror genre, and transformed it into the torture porn fad popular throughout the 2000s.  Movies like the work of Eli Roth fail as horror because in all the movies of his I’ve seen, every character is an unlikeable douche that you actually WANT to see die.  This is not how horror works.  That moment when the character dies is supposed to be n absolute gutpunch, not a moment to sigh in relief and thank god that he’s dead.  You DON’T want to see that character die, and when that character does die, it’s a shock to the system.  When the obnoxious prick who won’t shut the fuck up dies, it’s a relief.  Or at least it doesn’t have as much impact as it should.

The horror scene in the 2010s thankfully departed from this concept…  Unfortunately, horror in the 2010s is either defined by Tom Six’s Human Centipede movies, or by Paranormal Activity and the countless amount of spooky ooky ghosty ghoully Ouija board horror.  The Human Centipede isn’t scary for the same reason Eli Roth movies aren’t scary: you don’t give a fuck about the humans stitched together into the human centipede.  Paranormal Activity isn’t scary…  Though that just might be more of an opinion based on my belief that Ouija boards are fucking stupid.

Doki Doki Literature Club! is effective horror.  I’m a jaded, cynical prick when it comes from horror, and that visual novel ruined my fucking weekend.  This is because DDLC introduces you to characters, and gets you invested in them.  They aren’t perfect people, you find out the further you get in, but you end up liking them, and you want good things to happen.  Which is why when the first real twist of the game ends up happening, it’s such a thorough dick kicking.  The fact everything goes completely off the rails from that point onward only adds to the unsettling feeling.

After the first twist, the VN starts glitching out, and nothing can be trusted.  The world of DDLC set up rules and established them very early on.  But after the first twist, everything is broken now.  All bets are off, and you have no guarantee that anybody is safe.  It leaves you on the edge of your seat, wondering what is going to happen next.

This, my friends, is how horror should be!  I’m glad I watched those playthroughs, but that first time I sat through it…  I tell you what, man, DDLC was the kind of experience that left a dent in my soul.  It thoroughly ruined my weekend…  And I thank Dan Salvato for doing it.

Of the four girls in DDLC, I found that Yuri was my favorite.  And to my surprise, it seems like I’m in the majority for a change, but I digress.  Yuri is quiet, introverted, prone to losing herself in the fantasy world of whatever book she’s reading, not really much of a people person…  Basically, she’s ME.  Except I’m not a high school girl.  I’m also not a cutter.

Yeah, I’ve already given too much away with that one.

I strongly, STRONGLY urge you to pick up this visual novel, and read through it yourself.  You can get it off STEAM.  And like I said earlier, it’s absolutely free.  Download it for yourself, or hell, do what I did and watch someone else play through it.  If you’d rather go the latter route, I personally recommend Pro Jared’s playlist.


The Majin Among Us Sample Chapter!

I’ve expressed concerns of being an incompetent, Marvel Comics caliber social justice warrior a week or so ago, and I ended up with some…  Interesting, feedback on the matter.  In the longrun, I guess the only way to truly find out is to just put it out there, and let the people decide.

As of this writing, I’m on the verge of finishing the second draft.  there’s at least two or three more drafts that need to happen before this gets released to the public, but I’m feeling pretty confident about getting this in around the beginning of February.  In fact, let’s just make it official: I’m aiming for 2/11/17 for a release date.  Set your calendar apps to that date, and when you don’t see it on Amazon, check back here for a possible explanation.  Or just bitch me out.

In the meantime, I hope this sample chapter suffices.

DISCLAIMER!: This is the second draft version of the chapter.  If there are some noticeable errors, it’s because I may have missed them in my initial proofreading.  With luck, I, or my spellchecker will catch them in future drafts.


Also, as is the case with sample chapters, this version of the chapter might not be the version you end up getting.  Until the final version becomes available, though, I hope you enjoy.










I thought for sure I was going to have to play detective that day. I dreaded this, because back in those days, I was never especially good at detective work. Sure, Redcrest was pretty tiny, but there were still a pretty considerable amount of nooks and crannies she and her family could’ve been hiding in that I’d have never thought of looking.

So it was probably a good thing that I didn’t actually have to do any of that detective work. I don’t know how, exactly, but somehow, Debbie was able to find where I lived! All I know was that there was a knock at the door, and Debbie was standing on the other side when my mom answered it. Next thing I know, we’re taking my car to her place.

It turned out that she lived clear on the other side of Redcrest. Specifically, the bad part of Redcrest. The part Joe Jack’s dad lived. The part where all the meth heads from neighboring towns go to buy their product. The part of town all the adults warn us about.

“You live out here?” I asked. Considering this was the same girl who could turn people into chocolate on a whim, this shouldn’t have been as shocking. And yet, here we were.

“Yeah,” said Debbie. “My parents aren’t exactly the wealthiest people on the planet. Especially not these days.”

“What happened?” I asked.

Rather than answer my question there, she pointed to a house further up. “That’s my place,” she said.

In terms of houses in bad neighborhoods, you really could’ve done worse than Debbie’s place. You could do better, for sure, but you could’ve done worse. The outside could’ve probably used a new coat of paint, and the lawn definitely saw better days, but none of the windows were broken, and there weren’t any toilets or washing machines in the front lawn. More than I could say for a couple of her neighbors.

The inside smelled like cat piss. Debbie’s family clearly didn’t own any cats, or really any pets at all for that matter. I’m guessing that was left over from the people who used to live here? The carpet was a dull dark grayish color, and the furnature was clearly thrift store furnature. The couch had a pretty generous amount of cushioning torn out of one of the arm rests, and one of the chairs looked like someone fatter than the chair could handle sat in it.

Debbie gestured for me to have a seat on the couch. Rather than join me, she chose to take a seat a foot or two away from me on the floor. She looked me from down their, and I looked at her from up where I was.

“Okay,” she said. “Let’s just get down to it. I find that in situations like this, it’s just easier to get all the awkward questions out of the way right here and now. I’m sure you have plenty of questions, and I probably have answers. So go ahead, ask me anything.”

I thought about it for all of three seconds. “What the hell!?” I exclaimed.

Debbie laughed a little. “Okay, maybe broaden it a little more than that.”

“You ate chad!” I exclaimed.

“Are we really still dwelling on this?”

“Um, yeah, we are!”

Debbie started to sigh in frustration… But halfway in, she seemed to come to a revelation.

“Wait a minute,” she said. “You didn’t want to eat him by chance, did you? I’m so sorry!”

“What?” Was all I could say in response to that.

“I really should’ve taken your pride into consideration,” she said. I thought for a split second she might’ve been mocking me, but all it took was a look at her face to see she genuinely meant what she was saying. “I mean the guy was clearly beating you up and everything. It probably would’ve satisfied your pride if you’d been the one to eat him. Plus it’d be pretty ironic. He always did want to be inside another man, after all. What better…”

That’s not even close!” I interrupted, maybe a little louder than I would’ve liked.

Debbie blinked. “Huh. Okay, what’s the deal?”

“Debbie, you took someone’s life!”


“What the hell do you mean and?”

Debbie snapped her fingers, coming to another realization. “Oh, right! You’re a human. I can’t believe I keep forgetting that.”

I blinked. “What?”

Debbie stood up then. “Maybe it would help if I dispelled my glamour.”


She bowed her head, and closed her eyes. Then, to my absolute shock, she began to change! Admittedly, her appearance didn’t change all that much. However, it was enough to surprise me.

Her skin went from pretty standard Caucasian to cotton candy pink. She opened her eyes, and revealed that they were now the color of blood. Her hair remained in the same style it had been before, but now it was a very dark blue. On the sides of her head were little nubs that looked like they were trying to be horns, but were too short.

“Whew,” she said, “that feels good. Glamours are so hard to maintain, you know? Wait, you probably don’t know.”

“Whah… I… What are you?” I stammered out, astonished.

Debbie took a seat on the floor once again. “I’m a majin,” she explained. “My whole family are majins.”

I vaguely remembered her mentioning majins that one time, and it became clear her dumb little joke that only mythology buffs would probably find funny wasn’t a joke after all. She really was a majin in human clothes.

Unfortunately, rather than answering any of my questions, it only raised more.

“I think I explained what majin are,” said Debbie, trying to fill the awkward silence.

“Yeah,” I replied. “Apparently, they’re pink devils who can turn people into chocolate, and have no problem with eating them right afterward.”

“I didn’t want to use my powers on him,” Debbie protested. “I hated seeing him and his friends bully you around like that. And believe me, you’re far from the first person he’s harassed.”

“Oh you don’t have to tell me. I already know that guy was a douche. Everybody did. But eating him? Couldn’t you have just used your little jedi mind trick on him like you did with his friends?”

Debbie blushed… I think. The color scheme was not something I was used to, but it definitely looked like she was blushing then.

“I suppose I was thinking with my stomach again,” she said. “I knew I should’ve gotten some snacks at the theater.”

“Uh… Okay then. I’m guessing that’s a majin thing?”

“Kind of. For sure, it’s a Debbie thing. Majin in general are pretty hedonistic.”


“Hedenistic. It means do whatever because it feels good, and to hell with the consequences. On the positive side, that just means a lot of us like food. Or sleep. Or… Um, “other pleasures”.”

It didn’t take me long to figure out what that meant.

“I suppose that’s the problem when you’re an all-powerful godlike being who lives for flippin’ ever,” she continued. “We tend to think of humans the same way humans think of cows or chickens. Or more positively, we tend to think of you the same way you think of cats and dogs.”

“So we’re either food, or we’re pets,” I clarified.

“At worst, I’d say food. At best, I’d say you’re just another animal we have to share the planet with. Nothing personal. It’s just that majins have to eat too. And like I said last night, nobody’s going to miss that douche.”

“His parents are going to miss him. His friends are going to miss him. And even if nobody ends up missing him, people are going to notice he’s gone. Redcrest isn’t that big a town. Somebody goes missing, you usually hear all about it. Not to mention that guy was the star quarterback.”

“Oh, woopy for him. He can throw a ball, so we should put him on a pedistol and treat him like a god.”

I couldn’t say I disagreed with that. People around Redcrest worshipped Chad Testaberger. It was a popular joke around Draiman High that they held him back twice so he could get the football team to state. The other kids looked at him as someone to respect. The adults looked at him like he was somehow going to make them rich. In the case of people like Pat’s dad, he probably was.

The sad part is as disgusting as this was, it wasn’t, and actually still isn’t exclusive to Redcrest. We treat football players in this entire country better than our teachers, our emergency service workers… Really, better than everybody. And why? Because they can throw a ball really far? Because they can get tackled by a three-hundred pound lummox with an additional fifty pounds of padding?

They’re certainly not good people. I swear to god, there was at least one player a week getting a D.U.I. or a drug charge. And that was the standard nonsense. If you wanted the really bad stuff, you need only look at guys like Ray Louis, or Hector Hernandez: men who were charged with, and possibly even got away with murder. Although I think Hernandez eventually got caught, but I digress.

The fact football players, be they big time NFL players, or small time high school flunkouts in the making like Chad, are worshipped like gods is definitely something Debbie and I could see eye to eye on. Unfortunately, it was straying from the point entirely. Even if Chad was a douche, a closet case, and frankly, an individual the world would be better off without, Debbie had still opened pandora’s box on this one.

She was in the middle of a rant that, in short, was exactly what I was saying just now. However, she chose to end the rant with, “You want to see a god? A little majin like me is the closest thing you’re going to get.”

I chuckled. “If you’re so godlike,” I countered, “why do you and your parents live in such a dump? Surely, you could use your magic to counterfit money and buy a nice house out in the good part of town.”

“Because we’re trying to lay low,” said Debbie. “And in any case, that’d be a vulgar display of power.”

“Sort of like Jesus refusing to perform miracles on the spot?”

“Well yeah, in concept. My grandpa insists Jesus was either a very opinionated street preacher, or the head of one of history’s most successful cults.”


“Well yeah. The only real difference between a cult and a religion is the difference between a membership in the dozens and a membership in the millions. We’re kind of getting off track here, though. Basically, I don’t see what the big deal is with you humans and football. Hell, it’s not even football! It’s not in the shape of a ball, and the only real footwork is in how far you can run.”

“Well… Okay. You’re more than welcome to have that opinion, but it still doesn’t change the fact people are going to notice Chad is gone now. And if they figure out there’s a pink devil girl around here with the power to turn people into chocolate…”

“Not my problem.”

I was at a loss for words then.

Debbie laughed. “Honey, if humans could kill us with anything less than a nuclear bomb, there’d be significantly fewer majins in the world.”

I sighed in frustration, which led her to laugh at me.

“Relax,” she said. “I’m not going to pick a fight with the entire human race. All I want to do is live my life, and enjoy the ride.like you. The only difference is we live a lot longer than you.”

“Really?” I asked. “Like, how long?”

“Well, that depends on the majin, really. My grandpa was somewhere around a couple thousand before he finally passed.”


Debbie laughed again. “It is way too easy to blow your minds, you know? But yeah, thousand.”

“Okay, uh, I know I’m not supposed to ask a lady this, but how old are you?”

“I’ll be a hundred and ninety-eight in December. I’m guessing that whole “never ask a lady how old she is” thing is a human taboo? Probably because you guys only ever live to be seventy or eighty on average.”

“I… Uh, I guess so. I always thought it was a girl taboo more than a human taboo.”

Girl taboo, huh? Majins don’t have a whole lot of those compared to humans. I mean we have similar ones to humans, like “Thou shalt not kill”, “Honor thy mother and thy father”, and so on, but the only real taboo I can think of we don’t have in common is “thou shalt not use thy magic on thy fellow majin”.”

“Um, I’m pretty sure you’re thinking of commandments there.”

“Eh, six in one, half a dozen in the other. The important thing is majin are discouraged from using magic on each other. Which… Sort of brings us to Scott.”

“Yeah, who is this Scott anyway?”

Debbie was about to explain, but then the front door came open. A woman with a similar Buddha belly shape, and brown hair to Debbie came in first. She was followed by a skinny looking man wearing overalls, a trucker hat, and sporting a thick black handlebar mustache. Someone was clearly trying way too hard to appear Midwestern. He looked like how one of those douches in San Fransisco thought us Midwestern folk looked. The woman had a better concept, if only because she didn’t really where anything that screamed “YOU’RE TRYING TOO HARD!” to anyone who looked her way.

Lastly, there came what had to be the fattest man I think I’d ever seen. If he were any fatter, he’d probably need one of those scooters those fat city people ride around on when they go to Walmart.

“That was a good walk,” said the woman.

“Brad like walk!” the fat one declared, clapping.

“You sure did,” said the woman. “Now head up to your room, and…”

“Debbie!” the man interrupted. “What are you doing out of your disguise!?”

Debbie was already on her feet by then. She handled herself calmly… Sort of.

“You really went out into town like that?” she asked, pointing at her dad’s overalls.

“Debbie, we have to be glamoured, remember?” her dad insisted.

“But dressed like that?” Debbie countered. “I keep telling you guys that nobody here dresses like that. You look like a couple of damn Beverly Hillbillies!

“fair point,” the woman interrupted before the man could say something, “but you still need to look human if you’re going to socialize with these things.”

“It’s okay,” said Debbie, calming down. “He already knows what we are. Kind of.”

She explained that I had unfortunately seen her use magic. She bent the truth just a little, implying both of us were backed into a corner and left with no alternative. She made it sound like Chad and his goon squad were going to kill us! At absolute most, he’d probably just shove me around like he had been doing for a while longer, make a few more gay jokes only Joe Jack thought were funny, and call it an evening. Debbie could’ve probably gone home right then and there, and they wouldn’t have even noticed she was gone.

The father sighed, and his glamour faded. I soon learned the mustache was fake as he pealed it off. Debbie’s mom unglamoured next, revealing she had the same dark blue hair as her daughter. Brad, the fat one, seemed confused.

“Mom said Brad need be human in front of humans,” he said, puzzled.

“Your sister already blew our cover,” his dad explained. “You can unglamour yourself in front of this…”

“Okay!” said Brad, way too inthusiastically.

With that, Brad’s glamour faded. Rather than two nubby little horns on the sides of his head like Debbie and her mom, he had one long horn protruding out of his forehead. It made him look like a unicorn trapped in a human-shaped bubblegum mold, honestly.

Debbie’s dad removed the trucker hat, and a unicorn horn of his own popped out of his forehead with a faint pop noise.

“Go to your room, Brad,” Debbie’s mom ordered. “We need to have a talk with your sister.”

“Okay!” said Brad.

Gleefully, Brad went barreling past his sister and me, and down the hallway to his room. It was just the four of us then. I wasn’t sure of anything at that point, but I couldn’t help but think that nothing good was going to come of this.




One Point Short

The other day, I decided to go to my favorite bar: a quaint little place called Sharks.  I’ve mentioned its existence very briefly in my book, HikikoMorey, and I assure you that it’s a real place.  I don’t go there nearly as often as I used to, but for an event like The Chiefs making it to the playoffs, I’ll make an exception.

There is nothing like being in the audience of a Chiefs game in Arrowhead Stadium…  But I imagine a bar full of ravenous Chiefs fans is the next best thing.

I sat at the bar, watching multiple screens playing the same broadcast of ESPN’s coverage.  The Chiefs took on The Tennessee Titans, a team that virtually everyone and their mom insists has no right to even be in the playoffs this year.  In the first half of that game, it was definitely looking like the naye sayers were right.  Two quarters in, it was 21 to 0.

Then, like only The Kansas City Chiefs possibly could, they done fucked up.  They went from unstoppable to paper mache in one quarter.  In the end, The Tennessee Titans, the underdogs of the AFC at this point in the season, did the…  Well, I’d say unthinkable.  Unfortunately, this is The Chiefs we’re talking about.

The Chiefs, god bless ’em, just don’t have what it takes to last in January.  In the last seven years, we’ve been to the playoffs four or five times, and we only ever made it to the second game once.  And for the record, I’m not counting that year we got the bye as making it to game two.  I’ve heard friends of friends on Facebook insist it’s the Andy Reed curse, but honestly, I just think that’s our team.  One of those four or five times I mentioned before, Todd Halley was our coach, and the world’s easiest quarterback to sack was our quarterback.

In the end, Tennessee ended up beating Kansas City by one point.  One measley point.

ASIDE: I have no idea what happened to Ryan Succup.  He was probably the best kicker the Chiefs have had in a while, but as a Titan, he just couldn’t get the extra points to save his life this game.  How the hell do you miss extra points!?  Even if you get ten yard or fifteen yard penalties, those kicks should be the single easiest kicks a kicker can make!  Okay, back on topic.

The game was…  Interesting.  Disappointing, yes, but unlike the rest of the patrons at Sharks that day, I didn’t get nearly as worked up over it.  Let’s be honest, football doesn’t rule my life.  I cheer for The Chiefs, but I’m unbiased enough to see my team for what it is, and our team is…  Weird.  They can either be unstoppable conquerers who can defeat the fucking Patriots, or they can be a team held together with Elmer’s Glue and Thumbtacks that can’t even beat the 1-7 New York Giants.  And yeah, my examples come from the 2017 season.  That’s because the 2017 season is really the best proof of this.

People groaned in fury when The Chiefs lost.  One girl way in back shrieked “GOD DAMN I HATE THIS FUCKING GAME!” at the top of her lungs.  A guy on the other end of the bar was slamming his fists in anger, shouting “FUCK!” at the top of his lungs.  I, and the lady next to me who was helping my blind ass out by telling me important details like how much time was on the play clock and what not, was probably the only one who DIDN’T flip out, and even SHE was bummed out by the loss.

The game was disappointing, but I went more to interact with the crowd.  I fancied myself a bit of a gonzo journalist, more in the sense I was injecting myself into the crowd and writing more about the people I encountered and the adventure I was on, and less in the sense I forgot my job and spent the entire day doing insane amounts of drugs.  Although I did have a ridiculous amount of Angry Orchard, but I digress.

So yeah, KC’s out.  Again.  Can’t say I’m shocked, really.


SJW Concerns

The Majin Among Us is my latest writing project I plan to get published.  It’s pretty much guaranteed to be getting a paperback release at this time, so good news for all you people who prefer paper to ebook.

The further I get in to this project, though, the more one particular worry hits me.  That concern is that my book immediately gets dismissed as social justice tripe.  I’ll be posting a sample chapter within the week, but for now, take my word on it when I say that this thing may be a little preachy.

Make no mistake, I’m a lefty at heart.  True, I abandoned the democrats completely in 2016 after the stunt they pulled, and I’ve spoken highly of various aspects of libertarian ideaology, but in my heart of hearts, I’m still a lefty in many aspects.  I believe gays should be allowed to get married.  I believe abortion should be legal.  I believe net neutrality should’ve never been repealed.  I believe marijuana should be legal for recreational use, although I’d settle for medicinal if that’s how we have to start out.  I believe if someone wants to mutilate the shit out of their body in order to resemble a woman, why not?  Really, the only things I DON’T agree with my fellow lefties on is gun control (I’m pro-constitutional carry), and the death penalty (hang ’em all!), but that’s pretty much it.

Then we get into the kind of nonsense that passes for modern day liberalism: a horrifying checklist ideaology known as neoliberalism, or social justice warrioring.  I may think of myself as a liberal, but jesus tap dancing Christ, the SJW crowd makes me feel legitimately embarrassed to admit out loud that I vote democrat in public.

I could go on, but many other classical liberals have probably made all the points I’d probably be making.  Furthermore, they probably did it more intelligently, and with fewer swear words, because I’m a rude-ass boogan with no shame in using me some colorful language.

This is a crowd I generally want to distance myself from…  Except looking over the rough draft for The Majin Among Us, and making all the edits and additions I feel needed adding, I fear this book may come off as social justice tripe: the very thing I’m NOT going for.

The Majin Among Us is a tail of xenophobia.  A majin and her family find that their cover has been blown by the worst representation of their race: a cannibalistic serial killer with no concepts of restraint, social skills, or diplomacy.  The people take one look at this horrible majin and his wicked ways, and like people are prone to doing, they immediately assume EVERY majin is wicked, unspeakable evil.  From there, it’s a combination of trying to mend the bridge while keeping the guy who ruined it for everyone as far away as possible.

Pretty SJW-ish, right?  Honestly, I’ve based the story on all the stories I’ve heard of retards beating hindus and Sikhs to let us all know Muslams ain’t welcome in Amrrrica.  Or like the local dumbass who lost the mayoral election after running under the most blatant anticimetic platform…  Probably in the history of Kansas for all I know and care, then went on a shooting spree with all the intention of killing as many jews as possible…  Only to end up missing all the jews, and killing a couple Methodist Christians instead.  There are several examples of this caliber of retardation, and I could probably fill an entire blog with nothing but those stories alone.  However, I instead decided to draw influence from those stories when describing the level of ignorance displayed.

Unfortunately, one can’t write a story about racism in this day and age without immediately being labeled some sort of antifa level socialist ideaolog (as if being a right-winged libertarian anarchist somehow isn’t being an ideaolog).  You’re labeled an SJW, and you’re accused of virtue signaling to your fellow SJWs while pandering to the left’s lowest common denominators.

Need proof?  I refer you to the bullshit going on with Marvel comics right now.  A lot of what I can tell you is pretty much second-hand information at best.  Plus I’m strongly in favor of people actually looking it up and formulating their own fucking opinion instead of expecting my dumb ass to spoonfeed it to you.  But in any case, the current state of Marvel…  Well, the movies are doing all right, but the comics are a bit of a disaster right now.  I could probably forgive Ms. Marvel, on the grounds that Ms. Marvel (according to my own research) is less of a character, and more of a mantle handed down from heroine to heroine.  Then you get into things like Captain America just fucking off and shouting “Hile Hydra” so they can get the black guy the roll.  I’ve also heard of things like “Girl Thor”, “Asian Hulk”…  I think Storm might be transgendered now?  Or maybe I misunderstood my friend’s latest rant.  In any case, nobody asked for this.  I sure as shit didn’t want to throw Bruce Banner under the bus so some rando Asian guy could help Marvel show off how PC they are, bruh.  Wearing their sweet-ass Oakleys, and reminding us PC is the way to be for me.  And you.  WOO WOO!

Comparing my work, a work of fiction still in development with virtually no preestablished fanbase (unless fanbases from my previous novels counts, anyway), to Marvel, a studio that’s been around since the 1960s with an impressive legacy some SJW editor decided to wipe his ass with so we can recolor the heroes and find fascinating new ways to scream “FUCK WHITEY!” in approximately twenty-two pages, is probably not fair to me.  Or to Marvel, for all I know and care.  Dude, I WISH I was making Marvel cash at this point in my life, but I digress.

It’s an unfair comparison, sure, but it gives me an idea of the sort of fiction I want to desperately avoid.  Financially speaking, because according to the previously mentioned friend who’s given me all this information, it’s a direction that has thoroughly buttfucked Marvel’s sales.  Culturally speaking, because I’m not a social justice warrior.  We have some common ground, sure, but then you guys go and take it to a very psychotic level of nonsense that even I can’t agree with.

People will, and probably have accused me of having biases.  They’ll probably point out the liberal is the one in Charlie’s Chocolate Factory of Unspeakable Horrors is the soul survivor amongst a conservative, a libertarian, and a communist.  They’ll mention HikikoMorey takes potshots at The Tea Party.  They’ll mention how The Gael Saga demonizes capitalists by making Dan Adelson the A-list villain.  Right after the SJWs accuse me of using Gael as some sexist way of living out some foot fetish fantasy that demeans women, because fuck you for being a male.  Or whatever.

In all those cases…  Fair enough.  Even I’M not one-hundred percent unbiased.  But boy, the last thing I want to do is associate myself with a crowd that makes people like me look bad by association.

Once I’ve picked out a chapter or two I’d like to use as sample chapters, you’ll probably have a better idea of where these concerns are coming from.  Until then, I just want to get this off my chest, and out of my mind.


2017 in review

Another year in the books.  And boy, if 2016 was the year the entire world came unglued, 2017 was the year we forgot we were supposed to glue it all back together.

On a personal level, though, this was quite the year.  I got transferred to a new office where I get paid more…  But have to spend all that extra money on transportation.  So basically, I’m making the exact same amount I was before.  Kind of defeats the purpose, up until I realized just how much better the new hub is.  The technology is top of the line, the hub is cleaner, and I’ve officially reached the point where I don’t even need a guide to get around most of it!  More than I can say for the other hub.  Seriously, I worked there five years, and I still couldn’t find shit.

2017 was also the year I ended The Gael Saga.  The Gael Saga, while probably not my most ambitious concept ever, was still a lot of fun to write.  Most of the time.  In any case, it’s the first series I’ve actually managed to see to completion, and it left me with a lot of feelings as those who’ve read the blog and listened to my podcast are aware.  I felt pride for completing it.  I felt that weird sort of hollow feeling that comes with finishing a long-ass project, and having no idea where to go from there.  I felt happiness that the few people who’ve read it and reviewed it seem to like it.

Speaking of podcasts, 2017 was the year I got WAY into podcasts.  I subscribed to several, I recorded several…  I even did a guest spot on one.  The Thrifty Niggle was, oddly enough, the podcast that kind of got me back into podcasts four or five years after getting bored with all the ones I used to subscribe to either discontinued, or got boring.  It was a fun time for one and all.

My own podcast, Red Flannel Radio, the podcast I keep SAYING I’m going to either put on hiatus, or that I’ll be updating more frequently, has taken off rather nicely.  At the time I’m writing this, the subscriber count seems to have dropped from twenty to fourteen.  I guess either the lack of consistent updates, or spoiling The Last Jedi had something to do with that.  In any case, I’ve been in and out of podcasting, and this right here has been my favorite podcast to do.  I look forward to exercising more stream of consciousness in 2018.

2017 was also the year I tried streaming on YouTube…  But I don’t really plan on that becoming anything bigger than a hobby, based on the lackluster views.

2017 was the year the most controversial Star Wars movie was released.  The Last Jedi has got to be the first Star Wars movie in history to polarize a crowd, and I was glad to have seen it while it was still in theaters.

There were plenty of celebrity deaths this year, as there are every year…  But man, Chester Bennington probably hit me the hardest.

I’ve made my case for nu-metal in general back in the day, and I stand by it.  Linkin Park, love ’em or hate ’em, was a pretty big part of my childhood.  I actually enjoyed their music…  Right up until about “A Thousand Suns”, but that’s a rant for another day.  Chester Bennington…  I wouldn’t say he was a hero, necessarily, but I definitely liked what the guy had to offer.  And it was even looking like he was going to be the new vocalist for Stone Temple Pilots of all things.

Then I found out he’d committed suicide on the way to work.  Man, you want to talk about an announcement that punches you in the gut.  It left me in a funk for the better part of a week.  I actually took Linkin Park off my phone for most of the second half of this year.  Yeah, I still have Linkin Park albums on my phone.  Or at least I used to.  I’ve only just recently put them back on, and began listening to them again, but even now, it’s kind of weird.

I always joked that “In the End” was like someone’s suicide note set to a rap.  seventeen years later, that joke isn’t funny anymore.  And only PARTLY because I ran it into the ground.

On a lighter note, 2017 was also the year South Park bounced back from the disaster of season 20.  I didn’t catch every single episode, but the ones I DID catch were brilliant.

And speaking of South Park, 2017 was also the year their second video game came out for PS4.  I went in expecting to get stuck hopelessly on one puzzle like I did in Stick of Truth, but as it turns out, I actually managed to beat it!  And I enjoyed every single moment I was playing it.

Then Phone Destroyer came out.  I gave it a try, and…  I’m sure a lot of people will like it, but honestly, for me, playing CCGs on a phone is agony.  It’s one of the reasons I eventually gave up on Eternal Mobile.

In politics, 2017 was the year that proved that maybe Alabama doesn’t love republicans as much as I thought.  My friend, frequent cover artist, and goer of churches Korean, insists up and down Roy Moore was going to lose that race no matter what happened.  I honestly have to take his word for it on the grounds I was barely paying attention, and I was barely paying attention because I operated under the assumption Alabama loved its republicans.  I even made the joke: “Yeah, Roy Moore may be a pedophile, but it could be worse.  He could be a democrat.”  But I guess that ended up not being the case.  If a democrat can win in Alabama, who knows?  Maybe that bastard Kris Kobach will lose the governor’s election coming up here in Kansas!  Yeah, that might actually be wishful thinking.  Whatever, I’m still voting Orman if and when he runs.

2017 was full of Trump tweets, and my previously mentioned friend suddenly deciding he LIKED Trump now.  Largely because he gives Kim Jong Un the business every time North korea comes up, and my friend has been to South Korea.  Honestly, I won’t be surprised if this is the sort of egging on that results in our country getting nuked.  Maybe not by North Korea, but I’m pretty sure somebody with nukes is going to take those tweets personally, and decide “Fuck America!”, and blow us up.

Donald Trump as president…  This is a topic I generally avoid talking about, because honestly, this blog will turn into a monumental buzzkill if I did.  However, I just don’t have the same inthusiasm for his presidency as my friends suddenly do.  Admittedly, I’ve ALWAYS hated the republicans, where as my dislike for the democrats is fairly recent, but even if Trump were a democrat, I have a hard time saying I approve of him or anything he stands for.  Outside of repealing NAFTA, which I notice hasn’t happened yet… Come to think of it, he hasn’t really accomplished anything besides emplament a tax plan that has trickledown written all over it, and may very well effect my disability pay if what I’ve heard is correct.  His attempts at repealing Obamacare have been shot down, his attempts to get the wall built in 2017 have gone nowhere…  Really, if it weren’t for the tax plan, I’d say Trump has been a paperweight president at absolute best.  Which is probably why I like him a little better than George W. Bush…  Although if I’m being honest, that statement is akin to saying I like eating sand better than I like eating broken glass.  Not to mention, this was only year one.  We’ve got anywhere between three and seven more years of this asshole, and it’s not going to be easy.  Especially if my previously mentioned friend is correct, and the democrats shit the bed again.

I’d personally like to think that, between Alabama, Virginia, and New Jersey, the dems may slowly but surely be learning their lesson.  Or the republicans are getting cocky, and putting anemic candidates up for election on the grounds they think they can get away with it.  I know a lot of long-time fossils are leaving deciding not to seek reelection in 2018, and we’ll see what happens there.  Maybe they’ll make good on that promise, or maybe they’ll pull a Marco Rubio, say they won’t be seeking reelection, then suddenly change their mind in July and run for reelection.  And people wonder why I lost respect for Rubio.

2017 was the year that net neutrality was finally repealed.  This, for those who don’t follow my Facebook, is a passionate topic for me.  I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: if you genuinely believe the big three (Comcast, AT&T, and Verizon) are going to play fair, and give the little guy a break now that there aren’t any rules saying they have to, you’re a fucking idiot.  If you think YouTube isn’t going to get labeled a “premium service” in the age of the tiered internet that Ajit Pie and his cronies have been masterbating to since 2006, you’re a fucking idiot.  Prove me wrong, but when you suddenly find vid.me inaccessible, but Go90 runs like a dream, and YouTube suddenly costs an extra twenty bucks a month just to access, try not to hate me TOO much.

There was a lot of internet drama, and a lot of SJW bullshit in 2017, but honestly, I tend to distance myself from that shit.  I don’t care about PewdiePie fucking with fiver, I don’t care about Anita whatsherface, I don’t care about ANYTHING relating to Kekistan…  I was surprised to hear that Catherine, a game I loved when it first came out and still holds a special place in my heart, went from being an amazing experience to an exercise in misogyny and transphobia.  I don’t see it.  Unless you’re talking about the possibility where in you can find a path that reveals Erica, the waitress, used to be Eric, and the only person oblivious to it is the guy she’s dating, but even then…  I don’t know.  Just let me have my game, man!  Stop turning everything into a fucking race war!  Or a transgender politics issue!  I don’t want to debate with you on transphobia in American culture, I just want to climb some nightmare towers!  Is that really too much to ask?

I guess in short, 2017 was…  Interesting.  I wouldn’t say bad, but I wouldn’t say good, either.  Just interesting.

I’m definitely interested in 2018.  Politics have been interesting these last couple of years, and I can’t wait to see what happens next.  The rerelease of Catherine (Catherine: Full Body), Mega Man 11, and a couple other releases are definitely on my list of things to get a hold of.  More podcasts, more novels from yours truly…  And hell, maybe some more streams for the two people who like those.  Maybe even other projects, if I should choose to share them with you.  Till then, I hope everybody has a happy new year.  Be safe, and in the case of us Kansas folk, stay warm.  Seriously, the temperature is going to hit negative numbers tonight


Canceling COLA

Well, for the second time in a row, I find that I’m making the announcement that I’m canceling a project altogether.

This time around, it’s the project I’ve named COLA.  I’ve talked about it before, and I had really high hopes for it when I started it.  Unfortunately, despite my best efforts, I’ve found that I’ve hit a roadblock that I can’t get past.

It’s especially disappointing in my case because the first few chapters just flat out came spilling out of my head.  I managed to get about nine chapters down in the spand of a weekend.  True, they were relatively short chapters, and combined, they only managed fifteen or so pages in Word, but it was something I’ve only ever experienced while writing the first couple of Gael Saga novels.

Somewhere around the tenth chapter or so, though, I found that I just couldn’t take this idea anywhere further.  I do have a couple concepts written down, but it takes some serious doing to get from point-A to point-B.  Point-B may very well be inaccessible at this point.

Besides, I’m already working on a project: The Majin Among Us.  This project has taken up most of my attention that isn’t going into Red Flannel Radio (the podcast I keep saying is on hiatus until I decide to just sit down and record my dumb ass for about half an hour), and my experiments in YouTubing under the alias Steaksaw McGraw.  I have too much shit going on at once, and COLA is, at this point, the most expendible of my projects.  Steaksaw McGraw is probably next on the chopping block if I have to axe more things, but for now, the balance is…  Uh…  Balanced, I guess.

I’m sorry if you were looking forward to COLA.  Perhaps one day, I’ll come back to it, and see if I can do anything with it.  For now, I hope you aren’t too disappointed.

And if you were more interested in The Majin Among Us, then you’ll be glad to know that I’m chugging along just fine on that one.  I find myself actually ADDING chapters to what I already have.  A lot of the additions are supplemental material I failed to include in the rough draft due to it being NaNoWriMo, me having a deadline to meet, and thinking this excess detail wouldn’t be important.  Since I blew it on meeting the deadline by about sixteen days, and still managed to fall short of the required wordcount when I finally finished it, I figured “fuck it, I’ll add the new chapters.”

I usually make it a rule that my stories only get paperback copies on KDP if they’re longer than one-hundred pages in Word.  I’m not sure of the math, but if it’s a hundred in Word, it’ll be more or less the same amount when it’s all crammed into a six-by-nine paperback.  This is why The Novellas of Highfill, Kansas (all two of them) and Charlie’s Chocolate Factory of Unspeakable Horrors don’t have paperback copies.  That, and I’m pretty sure somebody from the Dahl estate is on the verge of suing me for that one, but if Dorothy Must Die can get away with it…

In any case, the point I’m trying to make is that it’s looking very likely that you’ll be seeing a paperback version of The Majin Among Us as well as a digital version.  So if you’re one of those old fossils that prefers paper over digital, you’re covered.  Most likely.

Audio copies aren’t planned at this point.  I’ve seriously been meaning to play with Amazon’s audio book service, but I don’t even know where to begin.  For sure, I thought about going with The Gael Saga as my first audio book, but I have no guarantee that’ll be the direction I go.

Know that for sure, COLA has been shelved, and The Majin Among Us will be out in paperback most likely.

Stay tuned for more updates on the matter.