Posted: April 23, 2009 in Uncategorized
Tags: , , ,

How ’bout this for the opening line for a story:

The cunt of cold-war technodeath was in it’s prime when they decommissioned the missile base hidden deep in the  Everglades…

Yeah, it’s over the top, but tough shit.  I’ve decided to pull out the filters on my grindhouse story, “Smoked.”  Need to get it out of my system.  Ideas are percolating, the characters are copping attitudes and Darryl will soon be pistol-whipped and dragged behind a police cruiser.

This one has drunk driving, vehicular homicide, psycho-toxic industro-military waste, wandering spirits, cannibalism, amputation, brush fires, spiritual possession, zombie roadkill, multiple personality and torture.

I love post-modern romance.

I seem to have reached the ebb of one of my periodic mannish-depressions that mark my descent into the “manopause.”  I no longer despise all living things, sleeping is somewhat regular and life doesn’t seem like a placeholder for death.

With a little luck, I’ll be peaking by the weekend.


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