the amount I read has increased significantly of late. the variety has improved as well, as I try to broaden my inspirational material.

there was a side effect apparently, as there I was today at the local bookstore, browsing the fantasy section for something new to read, when to my delight I notice an actually sexually attractive female browsing the said fantasy section as well.

any and all interested lasted as long as it took for me to notice the book she was holding. in a fit of boredom and irate curiosity, I made a comment that descended into a fairly heated, if amusing argument.

okay so maybe 'why don't you just read chick lit, instead of that travesty trying to pass itself off as fantasy?' wasn't exactly the most diplomatic attempt to spark up a conversation.

for years, I've been accused of being the average sucker for male wish fulfillment type books, consisting of heroes, dragons and sexy elf ladies. I took little offence to this, seeing as to how I am in fact interested in these subjects. if someone wanted to assume that typified me with completely irrelevant character traits, I wasn't all that bothered.

what I do take offence to however, is hypocricy. after having spent some time reading across the entire spectrum of fantasy fiction of late, the stereotypes females enjoy seem to be every bit as silly and superficial.

don't believe me? pick up almost any bestselling 'pop' fantasy book written by a woman, and it will have:

1. several completely unrealistic male romantic interests, inevitably consisting of total testosterone pumped douchebags who always end up having a sensitive side.

2. a homosexual best friend who is always gay. no lesbians to be had here.

3. the heroine who always saves the day by taking advantage of extreme acts of unrealistic, idiotic male chauvanism shown by both her enemies and incompetent allies/love interest.

there really is little accounting for taste.

So. I'm writing something which involves werewolves. And I figured it was important I do research on this, since werewolves aren't really something that have interested me in the past.

All I'll say is that anyone who is ever faced with this issue in the future needs to look up werewolves on youtube, especially the compilations where they show you the top 10 'best' werewolf transformations.

After you stop laughing, you'll feel a lot better about your written narrative of the lycanthrope condition =D

If golf were a woman, she'd be the one who worms her way into your life, recommended by friends and family who insist she's 'a good girl with a good family', and insisting you love her.

She's demanding, infuriating, flighty, won't put out, and even when she does, its awkward and painful all around.

You tell her no, that you've nothing in common, that it isn't meant to be. And that you would rather go out with bowling, who's fun, easy, and a lot more down to earth.

But your parents insist she's the girl for you, that bowling isn't classy enough, and that you've got to make it work. Golf's the one with all the old family ties, all the connections, and you got to keep her happy, no matter what.

This woman. She makes you miserable. Especially when you finally resign yourself to giving it a try. Wooing her. Even though all you really want to do is call bowling up, tell her to put on the slutty undies, and meet you at the club.

I should know this. I've dated golf 4 times now.

So after all that, you must ask. Why. Surely the equine hath left its mortal coil, and the beatings, they will do no more.

In my most recent efforts to take up this bloody game, I've finally figured out a reason or two. So if you're ever looking to take up golf...

First off, it gives you focus. I shit you not. You have to squint, stare and make that little white ball the only thing in existence. Ignore everything else around you, and get your every movement just right. Fail any part of this, and you'll jar your hand, add to your blisters, and see the little white piece of shit mock you while bouncing and rolling to a halt a few meters away while everyone around you either dies laughing or pretends not to see.

Focus in itself is kinda boring, but the funny thing is, it actually helps with other things. Gaming I guess would be one that's relevant to a lot of us. I realised after every session at the driving range, when I got home, showered and just sat down for a good round of Payday or Red Orchestra 2, I was better at it. I breathed easier, didn't jerk my shots, picked my targets and generally played like a boss. Had one map on Payday 2 where I scored 152 kills, 148 headshots, the 4 being attempts to kill tazers that were shocking the shit out of me. So yeah. Focus.

The second, is when finally everything clicks into place, the focus, the form, and you smack that sucker good. You feel the faintest of clicks, hear the little 'tink' sound, rather than that horrible thud which indicates you've just attempted to dislocate your own elbow and dug a big fuckoff hole in the ground. The ball just FLIES, and it goes perfectly straight and long (heh heh). Its like hitting a perfect headshot on a running target in an FPS, but much, much more satisfying.

Annndddd then you swing and miss your next shot.

Fuck golf. Don't take it up. =P

FFFFuuuuu... i messed up my sleep patterns a few days ago. the FA blackout which coincided with my desire to finally do my character sheet, along with the need to find something to inspire my writing fight scenes led to a very unwise all nighter session just before i was due back for work.

result, the need to wake up at a normal yuppie time, without decidedly adequate amounts of sleep. bleargh.

I thought i'd get a perfect early night's rest tonight, but no. apparently, i will instead have a nightmare. pretty awesome one as well.

i was asleep, back at the club we used to own years ago, after hours. suddenly the music comes on, and me, half asleep still, goes 'wtf who's there'. someone gets into bed next to me, and i'm like... 'eh? sudden unexpected booty?'

no. no booty for val.

i get bit in the hand, and it hurts like fuck, by what must apparently be a zombie. or a crazy ex type person. i never did find out. i hope this doesn't keep bothering me >_>

FUCK.

then i wake up.

so here i am, making journal entries, groggy and somewhat relieved my hands are zombienom free.

they actually do hurt a little though. had a session at the driving range and combined with my sudden return to the gym, has given me blisters.

#firstworldproblems.

ugh. okay. attempt to sleep.

Back at the office after a week flying off for a conference! but honesty, i missed my computer and my internet. might be some kind of dependency issues developing here. >_>

wasn't even just because of the games either. just missed being able to sit down with all my reference books, my writing scraps, and hang out with friends on ts and hearing them talk about how they were going to touch me inappropriately. life just isn't complete without online sexual harrassment from your idiot internet friends -_-;;

felt productive. fun. even had a 4 hour session where i just sat there and wrote. haven't had that in a long time, and it felt goooooood....

funniest thing i read today to start off the week: Italian Casanovas can no longer afford their women.

http://www.bbc.com/news/magazine-24065878

Yes, this recession. it makes life so hard =D