Writing a book. In a day.

It takes me roughly a year to churn out one of my intricately plotted and carefully crafted pile of (roughly 80,000) words. [author aside: If you all actually bought my books, I’d be able to quit the job that pays the mortgage and feeds the bellys and I’d have more time to write. I’d be able to churn out possibly even two a year. Just sayin’.]

On July 24th, I and six writing/illustrating colleagues will be writing AND illustrating a 10,000 word kid’s book in support of the Kids Cancer Project. We seven are the “Magnificent Seven Six“.

We are all donating our time, brilliant intellect and unparalleled creativity *cough cough* to raise as much money as possible in support of The Kids’ Cancer Project. It is an independent national charity supporting childhood cancer research. Since 1993, thanks to strong community support, the charity has contributed tens of millions of dollars to scientific research projects to help children with many types of cancer. Right now, the charity is funding 35 medical research projects across 22 institutes Australia-wide.

All completed stories will be included in the Online Library which is shared with hospitals around Australia for families and children undergoing treatment.

Please stop by our landing page and sponsor us with whatever you can afford.

Merry *expletive deleted* Christmas

It’s that wonderful time of year when people get shivved in your local electronics store while in pursuit of the last PS5, drive-bys resolve parking disputes and the staff at the lay-by department have shotguns strapped under the counter, one hand never more than a hair’s-breadth away from the trigger.

It’s getting tense.

I try (really, I really try) to lift my tolerance levels this time of year. I, personally, have nothing new causing angst. (The usual family reasons are evergreen — no additional focus at this time of year.) So there’s no point in letting others drive me to pour petrol into a shopping cart loaded with wrapping paper and toss a lit flare into it.

I don’t know if the dude who cut me off and “stole” (I didn’t really own it in the first place) my parking spot is just a dick, or if he just lost his job and has two young children expecting Santa to dump a bag full of gifts under their $15 plastic Christmas tree.

I don’t know if the woman who used her grocery cart to push an older woman out of the way so she could grab the last bag of crushed walnuts was a sociopath, of if that’s the last ingredient she needs for the dessert she always makes for her now ailing mother, and this is the fifth grocery store she’s been to today. I mean, there has definitely been an inexplicable run on crushed walnuts.

I just don’t know.

So I’m giving a lot of people a lot of benefit of the doubt. I’m allowing three times expected travel time to get places. I’ve lowered my expectations of human decency down to the level of Sean Hannity, Tucker Carlson or Paula Hanson.

But fair warning, this all ends Jan 2nd.

The Average IQ is 100

By definition.

The tests are designed so the average score is 100. Sixty-eight percent of the people taking the test fall into the range of plus or minus 15% of the mean, or between 85 and 115.

So I have to assume there is a significant skew downward to results lately because a large percentage of people are “protesting” against a free vaccine which most certainly will prevent you from going to a hospital in the unlikely event that you contract the disease.

They are ingesting deworming medicine meant for livestock, medicine which will actually make them very sick and which they have to pay money for, instead of getting a free vaccine.

They are, when in position of power, making it ILLEGAL for establishments like schools or bars or stadiums to insist on masks, and to restrict attendance to only those who have been vaccinated.

I have to assume it’s stupidity. I really have to assume that there isn’t malice colouring their decision making. Because the stupidity is depressing me enough. I don’t think I could handle the malice angle.

Get fucking vaccinated.

Wear a fucking mask.

De ja F*ck U

Now if I’m totally honest, when my employer told us all to go home last March (2020, of course), I didn’t mind one bit. We are a bit of an insular family, anyway. I got rid of my hour long commute, could barbecue some snags at lunch and got an extra hour sleep at night.

The only negative was the lack of commute on the way home. For real. That hour allowed me to decompress and leave work at work. And I didn’t need an hour to do that. Twenty minutes, max.

This time, though. It can go fuck itself.

Life was essentially back to normal and I was enjoying going back to the office. A new office (new job).

Now the COVID induced lockdown is really grinding my gears. I don’t know what’s different this time, but it can’t be over soon enough.

We’re getting vaccinated and survived (I’ve had my first AZ, my daughter has had both jabs, and within week my son and wife will also be fully vaxed) and I’m hoping, really fucking hoping, that there will be a staged lifting of restrictions for those who are fully vaccinated.

Because I’ve had more than enough of this.

And so have you.

Wear masks, get vaccinated and let’s get this horseshit over with.

Reconstruction

Apparently there’s a WordPress Plug-in exploit that allows nefarious bastards to gain access to my site and change shit.

Posts prior to a couple of posts ago have been disappeared. With prejudice.

Fortunately, the way-back machine has archives of some of those posts, so over the next few weeks, or months, I’ll reinstate them.

Stay tuned, but don’t hold your breath.

AstraZeneca and its Side Effects

I got my first jab last week. There has been a lot of hesitancy about the AstraZeneca vaccine, and the EXTREMELY SLIGHT risk of blood clots.

So I took it upon myself to track the side effects I experience. For the general public’s awareness, you understand.

I received my first AZ jab the morning of 15 July. My side effects follow.

Full disclosure, the belly fat did not disappear.

And I can’t say with absolute confidence that the AZ jab had anything to do with the flatulence.

(I wasn’t hovering — I was taller, but my head wasn’t informed. Easy mistake)

Full disclosure — it was the whiskey.

Get vaccinated, people. It’s painless (literally — I didn’t know I had the jab until the doc told me. Amy, the same.)

Here’s a bit of risk perspective: