Quagmire

Nope, not a rant about Iraq. Some kvetching about my tomato garden.


Squash, striped tomatoes and cherry tomatoes.

Once again my inability to plan strikes. Planted too close together and not staked properly, the tomato plants lean on each other like unruly green drunks, spindly arms around their buddies' twiggy shoulders. It's a dirty great mess.

Harvesting requires the flexibility of a contortionist in a Chinese circus. The worst part? I do this every stinking year. I. Never. Learn.

I found a regular red Celebrity tomato yesterday. Don't know I'd planted any, but then again, a bearded guy named Osama might be hiding out in that mess for all I know.

Stuff...
Stretched out tiny budget and bought Sin City. Terrific ball-busting movie. Not for the squeamish or fans of chit-flicks. But awesome. (J-man, naturally, likes it for Jessica Alba. That's cool. Just so long as he doesn't develop an unnatural fixation for Jessica Simpson.)

I love hitmen. No matter what you do to them, you don't feel bad.
~Marv.

Writing...
Naughty thoughts. Want to write sex scene in the Romance. Already wrote sex scenes for Book Two, but then romance is a just a sub plot. I've been putting off the sex scene in the Romance to avoid blowing any sexual tension--tension in my teeny mind. But...in the moood.

Got a rejection for a story that already has a good home. What-ever. Market had the story for more than a year, so I'm not feeling terribly bad about losing track of the submission.

Needed gritty angsty inspiration while working on Talis stuff, so I popped in Queensryche's Operation Mindcrime. I was gunning for "The Needle Lies" but the lyrics on "Revolution" seemed oddly topical, a couple of decades after the CD came out.

I'm tired of all this bullshit
They keep selling me on T.V.
About the communist plan
And all the shady preachers
Begging for my cash,
Swiss bank accounts while giving their
Secretaries the slam.

I used to think
That only America's way, way was right.
But now the holy dollar rules everybody's lives.
Gotta make a million; doesn't matter who dies.

Anyhoo, will be invaded by in-laws this evening. So gotta get some writing done.

Monday, blech.

Pat K.