the most dangerous summer

I've been meaning to post some enthusiastic indication that I'm back in the grind, but I've been too busy with the last 72 hours sucking down juice boxes while playing Killzone 2, and pretending that Japan's mysophobic, knee-jerk overreactions to the swine flu hadn't just pre-emptied an entire summer's worth of activity.

protects bearer from CDC snipers on the tarmac

On the upside though, KZ2 has been fantastic, and I just signed and stamped my official resignation from Japanese life, effective in three month's time. Oh, and I've also been commissioned for a shiny new writing project. With any luck, one that could neatly grace a milk crate coffee table, or pile of magazines strewn about a bathroom floor upon completion.

Stay tuned.

if dr. zhivago played the oboe

Dear Diary,


Today, I had an epiphany. Someday, in the not-so-distant future after I become great and evil, when my miserable peons displease me, I will reward them by locking them in arctic gymnasiums with nothing but a projector and the rags on their backs. There, warmed by only the frozen hope in their hearts, they will be forced to endure foreign remakes of Hoosiers. For paraplegics.


It'll be wonderful--like hell! But colder.
Oh Diary, I can't wait to grow up...