I'm looking for recommendations. What do you read daily or weekly? Blogs are good, obviously, but they needn't be blogs to get a daily visit. I like all kinds of stuff: game stuff, science stuff, pop culture, ranting commentary, whatever. But I'm less interested in you targeting recommendations for me and more interested in just finding out where you go and why you go there.
Once more comes the time to engage in the slapdash, nonsensical blogjaculation known as “Painting With Shotguns.” Today, in the 23rd installment, we talk about: Twitter (again!) Sexy massages (scandalous!) Work update (ew, boring!) Links (these don’t taste like sausage or golf!) Two shells. Barrel closed. One double-barrel buckshot enema, coming right up. More Terribleminds Twitter Talk, Now With 10% More “Who Gives A Shit?” Before I begin, a question: did I manage to convince any non-Twitter users yesterday to actually try it? It wasn’t my aim; I was speaking... Read The Rest →
The title for this post should really be, “Some Stuff About Twitter,” but I didn’t think that was catchy enough. Not enough pizazz. Not enough razmatazz. And other “-azz” words. Let me say up front: I loves me the Twitters. I do. It’s a place with few rules but a lot of preferences. Everybody has their own way of using it. It’s not just a social tool. It’s a social multi-tool. Like the pliers? I like the tiny scissors. Dig the belt punch? I like the strawberry-scented butt plug. So,... Read The Rest →
The other day, I told you to throw the pebble. Today, I’m going to tell you how I sometimes throw the pebble. Or the acorn. Or the pennies. Or the fastball, hand grenade, or angry wombat. Choose your metaphor and hold it tight. Unless you go with “angry wombat,” because you do not want to hug an angry wombat. That fucker will tear your eyes out and drop wombat pellets into the gaping sockets. I’ve seen it. I’ll never forget that trip to the zoo. Anyway. Let’s chat about social... Read The Rest →
Straps tightened? Fueled up? Wingsuit greased? Turbojets lubed? Have you waxed the chrome to an eye-blinding gleam? Good. Then you’re ready to head on over to Jet Pack. And just what will you find there? You’ll find we three amigos, we three damn egos: Will “Thrill Kill” Hindmarch, Howard “Wood” Ingham, and yours truly. You’ll find a place where our fiction can live and breathe and play with all the other fiction. It’s a place where we’re going to try out a self-publishing model, a place to build some audience,... Read The Rest →