Three hoodies save the world

Constant moaning and whinging about everything

Archive for the month “October, 2013”

Just did something either brave or very stupid.

I’ve just finished the third edit of what I hope and believe is my best, and longest novel. It’s called The Book of Pain and spans four hundred years.

I’m relatively happy with it at the moment but have just done something I may regret, and just to make sure have made several back-ups, or should that be backs-up?

I did a global search and deleted every single occurence of the words, that, which and had.

I haven’t summoned the courage yet to open it but will begin tonight.

Ginger, the online everything checker suggests that my writing is that of a three year old or semi illiterate budgie.

It will be interesting to see if I can re-write the novel using those three words only once per paragraph or even fewer although a simple knowledge of english suggests that they must be used occasionally.

Whatever happens I can only think that their removal must help since I hate passive verbs and always try to work them out.

If you don’t hear from me for a while it’s because I’ve leapt head first off the mountain which is my tea cup littered desk.

The fact that I’ve used “that” eight times in this blog might explain Ginger’s exasperation with me.

Last evening I discovered one of my first novels written over twenty years ago and stored on a five and a half inch floppy – talk about prehistoric.

I wonder if it’s salvageable? It will probably be “that” infested.

i also found one wot i rote but printed off twenty five years ago. I always loved it; unfortunately the first one hundred and fifteen pages are missing. At least I’ll have plenty of writing for the next year. I bet it’s cringe-makingly awful.

Change

Another gorgeous poem from Kay

Oh, I’m feeling so old

It seems just minutes since I was changing toxic nappies or cleaning projectile vomit from the curtains.

Yet just today I found myself arranging for my daughter’s first voting form.

‘Well you know everything, so who should I vote for?’ Despite the little brat’s attitude, I was determined to give a fair appraisal of Engand’s political climate.

‘Well Your mum and I have always voted for the ***** party. The *****party has no discernible policies and will never get into power, so why waste your vote? While the *****party bring the country to bankruptcy every time they get into power. And as for the *****party,’ I continue to my bemused offsrpring, ‘they’re a bunch of sandal wearing whale huggers who’d ban all cars from England.’

Notice the way I’m not pressurizing my poor car-mad daughter on on her first forray into the adult world

‘And unless you want to spend the rest of your time until you leave home sleeping in the garden, then it’s the *****party.’

‘Alright then. I’ll vote for who you like if we can have a new dog.’

I’ve seen the mutt she wants. It looks like a mutated pomeranian crossed with a rat.

But more to the point, was she really suggesting that I polute my political integrerity for the sake of a dog?

Apparently the kennel is going to be blue.

Another hectic week of nothing

Two things happened this week. Well three if you count my smart phone regressing into utter brainlessness as I tried to upgrade from Gingerbread to whatever came next. I finally plucked up the gumption to rid myself of the single worst telephone provider in the known universe. I did this so that I could use my alleged smart phone to tether my tablet. For some reason you can’t do that on pay-as-you-go. So, after visiting the same shop twice a day for five days I finally managed to find someone actually working and did the swap. Great. Now I could tether my tablet. Except that I can’t. My tablet apparently didn’t like being bounced down the road at fifty mph when I was thrown from my motorbike. They really don’t make them like they used to.

The other thing that happened, or rather didn’t happen, was on Thursday. I don’t know of it’s the same in the US but for some reason this last Thursday is considered the best day for book sales of the whole year. Great I thought; bookmark the Porsche web site.

I waited, and waited, checking the umpteen sites upon which my miserable novels are posted. I waited some more and then took a break and left it. Two minutes before midnight I went back, drooling about my 911’s new sonic twenty speaker set-up. I’ve fantasised the turbo to death already.

Zero sales.

I hate Porsche’s, anyway.

field2

I did another painting as I just can’t seem to get the typing fingers in action.

This is why I don’t paint people or animals. Although my rocks and skies are coming on.

Buying stuff.

To celebrate my new job, and because my alleged wife has been complaining for a decade or so about my sartorial inelegance, we went out to buy some new duds last evening.
That doesn’t mean I’ve been walking about in rags all this time but simply because I bought enough in the previous century to last me a while, despite apparently losing their fashion status several millennia before the last ice age.
Now I’m not the tallest person in the world. Apparently the average male in England is 5’ 8”which in the scheme of things is not exactly big, and given that American and German men are just about the tallest in the world as I recall, I barely reach the shoulders of your average hamster. So for me the height of luxury is to wear trousers with no turn-ups. Which was why I was determined to buy trousers short enough so that they didn’t need to be folded in half before wearing for the first time. I know, low expectations but I’ve had a long time to get used to it.
Thus imagine my shock this morning after Beloved retrieved my new strides from the tumble drier, and scowling fiercely with that “I told you… etc etc” look on her face, proudly brandished them before me. Not only had they shrunk just a tad, but had I attempted to put any of them on, I would have been singing soprano for the rest of my life.
Looks like the Levi 501’s will be giving a few more years of service after all. I just wish I hadn’t used them to polish my motorbike. I hope my new boss likes the smell of axle grease.
So no one can say I didn’t try. I wonder what the new spring collection of 2020 will look like.

Spamness

I’ve just finished scourging the daily pythonesque spam emails from my system. Not only are there demands from banks with whom I’ve never had an account, but now to just make it even more stupid, some of them are from banks that don’t actually exists. Are there really people that stupid out there? To put their CC details on the net. I suppose there must be or they would stop.
For all of you who don’t understand the Montey Python reference , which is to say everybody under forty five, here’s a link to the sketch. I always found it funny, but then my sense of humour has always been in question.
The spam song
I got a rather strange email from Draft2digital the other day. For those of you who don’t know the site, check it out. It freely posts your books on numerous market but more importantly, i Tunes.
Anyway, they sent me an email after Amazon had sent them an email demanding the clarification of my rights to my novel.
I didn’t know what else to say other than “well I wrote it so it’s mine, okay?”
Must have worked as it’s now for sale.
draft2digital.com

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