Bits of the Dead available now!

Posted on July 25, 2008

Bits of the Dead is now available at the following on-line retailers:

Paperback:

Horror-Mall
Amazon.com
Amazon.ca
Amazon.co.uk
Barnes and Noble

This one sports some damn fine writers. I’m especially proud of my contribution, “Another Lonesome Day.” Go get yourself a copy.

Contact notes… AND MORE!

Posted on July 23, 2008

I realize now that the facebook link doesn’t really lead anywhere.  That is because facebook is retarded.  I may delete my profile over there, because so far I haven’t found a single use for the damn thing.

In other news, there will be a big announcement right here on July 31st.  Keep your eyes peeled, or I will thumb them right out of your skull.

New Ink!

Posted on June 29, 2008

I felt like celebrating this weekend, so I made an appointment with the incredibly talented Ezra Haidet at Austin’s own Triple Crown Tattoo. Ezra had a craving to make robots this weekend, and I had an idea I thought might be right up his alley.

So without further delay, I introduce you to my new buddy Zombot, the Zombie Robot!

Isn’t he adorable? You just want to take him home to mama!

On Fear

Posted on January 22, 2008

I love scary movies.  Just this weekend I saw both Cloverfield and There Will Be Blood, two movies that couldn’t be more different, yet both are terrifying.  Whether it’s a giant monster or the effects of greed on humanity, there’s a lot to be afraid of in those flicks.  At the end of the day, however, they’re just movies.

I write scary stories.  I’m told I do this pretty well.  I’ve had friends tell me my stories gave them nightmares.  I live to give folks a thrill and a chill.  That makes my day brighter.  At the end of the day, however, they’re just stories.

Nine months after buying my first home, the economy is sinking like a stone.  I’m a wage-slave in a world full of lay-offs.  If I lose my job, I don’t have much of anything to fall back on.  Writing doesn’t pay nearly that well.  I have twenty-four cents in my savings account.  My car is on its last legs.  My degree in screenwriting is damn-near useless.

At the end of the day, that scares the hell out of me.

Nate attends a fantasy football draft so you don’t have to.

Posted on September 3, 2007

That’s right, friends and neighbors. Even after last year’s terrible screed against fantasy football, I decided to attend the draft held at my girlfriend’s parents’ house. Why did I do this? Well, I could say it was in the interest of journalism or in service of mankind. That, however, would be a lie. I did it because it involved both free food and free booze, and because the Interdiction chapter of GTA San Andreas is kicking my ass.

That said, I do hope to better mankind through this blog (As well as boost my book sales. Check out the fucking bookstore, why don’t you?), so I have decided to post a series of observations from my day at the fantasy football draft.

1. The smoked turkey is excellent!

2. There are actually two drafts going on today: the guys’ and the ladies’. The ladies are playing fantasy football this year because they got tired of hearing about it last year. Reports that most of the guys spent six months yelling “Game Day!” during orgasm are unsubstantiated.

3. Personally, I would never yell “Game Day!” during orgasm. I find “Sorry, I really thought I was going to last longer this time!” to be more fitting.

4. The guys have started their draft by awarding imaginary athletic awards. On a scale of one to ten, that’s a lame score of six-point-five.

5. Two of the ladies are teleconferencing. Another has designated a guy as their draft agent. Four on the lame scale, but a nine on the I hope you have a good cell-plan scale.

6. Two men are wearing football jerseys. To clarify, I have gone another year without anybody wearing armor to my Friday night Dungeons and Dragons game. We have also not given out imaginary rewards. Well, maybe that +2 Greataxe I just received counts.

7. Fuck you. I have a +2 Greataxe. Take your starting quarterback and stick him up your ass.

8. I walk away from the draft to hang out with my girlfriend and her two female friends. All of them are swimming. A majority are in bikinis. For perspective, here’s another version of these events…

Guys: Dude! We’re gonna go watch porn!

Me: Enjoy! I’m gonna go have sex.

Guys: Whatever, dude! Jeff just came on his stomach!

9. The ladies are rushing through their draft much fast than the guys. They have, however, decided that every other lady in the draft is either a bitch and/or a whore.

10. I fail to convince any of the guys to draft Icky Woods.

11. I do, however, convince all the guys that the ladies have taken a five minute break for a pillow fight.

12. The teleconference ladies realize how many cell minutes they’ve used and urge the rest of the ladies to “Hurry the fuck up.”

13. The rest of the ladies decide the teleconferencing ladies are “Skank ho’s.”

14. I call the “Skank ho’s” on call waiting and arrange a late night rendezvous.

15. I should mention that by this point I have eaten six turkey sandwiches and have moved on to the roast beef.

16. One of the guys jumps in the pool in an attempt to kill himself after losing a draft pick. He later claims to be “cooling off.”

17. The ladies have resorted to fisticuffs.

18. Nevermind. They’re making out. Hells yeah!

19. Ooh! So are the guys!

20. Back from the bathroom. I’m drained.

21. Back in the bathroom. Kick it in, second wind!

22. That horrific coughing sounds was not me. And it certainly wasn’t from a particularly strong hit of sweet, sweet weed.

23. The ladies finish the final round of their draft. The guys have roughly fifteen more rounds to go.

24. I finish coughing.

25. The ladies finally get around to their pillow fight. If by pillow fight you mean “naked bubble kiss time.”

26. Ooh! The guys are also having “naked bubble kiss time.”

27. I spend ten minutes confronting my possible bisexuality. I do this in the bathroom.

28. I’m drained once again.

29. The draft is over. Shawna, myself, and a few others spend about an hour making up naughty player names from the draft stickers that are left. Among these names are Craig Balls and Tony Toefucker. Shit Rod Smith is also a favorite. He plays for the Cincinnati Gramatica. Or possibly the Buffalo Nuts.

30. I give serious thought to playing fantasy football next year. I have already decided my team with either be the I-just-shit-on-the-floor’s or the Please-just-stab-me-in-the-goddamn-eye’s.

So there you go, ladies and gents. This is what happens at a fantasy football draft. Last I heard, the two teleconferencing ladies were looking at their cell phone bills and screaming “What the fuck?!” The guys are still asking me what the women in swimsuits looked like. They’re quite jealous.

And Back

Posted on July 23, 2007

I have returned from Providence, RI and Necon.  The weekend was a blast, even if the trip home nearly killed it (more on that later).  Now, I’m going to curl into a ball and die.

WordPress Help Needed

Posted on May 8, 2007

I’m kind of a computer idiot, so I need some help.  I’m trying to find a way to shift the “Writers” link category toward the top of the right hand side of this page.  Any suggestions, or do I just need to create a “links” page?

Yay for me!

Posted on December 18, 2006

I’m Time Magazine’s Person of the Year.  Suck on that, people.  This is soooo going on my resume.

I Voted…

Posted on November 8, 2006

…because I didn’t want to be bored while Shawna voted.  Yay me.

The Five Week Marker

Posted on November 6, 2006

As of today, I’ve been sober for five weeks.  I haven’t lasted this long in about six years or so.  It feels good.  My writing output has been way up.  Aside from going to bed earlier, I certainly can’t think of any negatives. 

I’m on a diet/exercise pseudo-plan now, as well.  We’ll see how long it takes to shed some of these pounds.

Been doing some research on the various sobriety programs out there, and I’m shocked at how many of them completely remove personal responsibility from the equation.  One (I’ll just say The Big One) does everything but come out and say “It’s hopeless.  You suck.  Bottom’s up.”  It’s creepy.  I think I’ll just stick to my whole “not going to the liquor store” idea.

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