Well I've been on the sauce again. Not really again, since I never really stopped in the first place. Last night Linda called me an alcoholic when she caught me drinking the Jack Daniels out of the bottle again. I told her it was rock and roll but she reminded me I'm not a musician.
Tonight the Jack Daniels is gone so I bought some Vincent Van Gogh Dutch Chocolate Vodka. It's worth every penny of the 30 bucks it costs. I highly recommend checking it out if you live near any nice liquor stores that might carry it. It beats the other chocolate vodkas out there hands down.
It's funny as a kid I never drank hard alcohol straight. I used to swear it tasted like poison. Now it's what I enjoy most. I guess I really am becoming a fucking writer.
Speaking of writing, I passed a couple milestones this week. For one, I submitted over 200 corrections (typos) of my first novel The Ultimate Space Hit to Wasteland Press (thank you Linda for finding them) and I got back the updated books. I gave it to a friend who read it in two days and told me they LOVED it. That makes me feel so good.
Also, I surpassed 50,000 words on my second novel, The Living Dead Don't Get a Holiday. That one is only really supposed to be about that long... so it feels good to be breezing past that predefined limit. I may end up with another 20,000 words at this point. I hope to finish / edit it in Hawaii next month.
That's right Hawaii. A lot has changed since the last episode. I sold our car for our full asking price, and nearly everything in the apartment is slated to sell next weekend before we head out of here. Linda wants to spend her 30th birthday in Hawaii. Who could fucking blame her? Not me. We don't have a place to stay yet but that's trivial. We are trying to rent a condo but we might end up in some cheap tourist hotels and visit a different island every week.
Oh finally... I was reading the NME and tonight Shaun Ryder and Bez are spinning in the club that was approximately 100 meters from my front door when I lived in London. Just to think of them there... walking down the same street and seeing the same things as I did gives me chills. Bez is a fantastic writer, waster, and dancer. Shaun Ryder is a pure fucking genius. Enough blogging for now. Now its time for the Killers and some more chocolate vodka.