6 Dec

          I've been off sick the last couple of days with the cold/flu/plague. I just got back from the base hospital, and they gave me two more days off--with drugs.
          Also, I would just like to note that yes, I know I complain about publishers taking forever to get back to me on submissions, but waiting until I'm sick and then hammering me with rejections all at once is bad form.
          And yes, the world does seem extra icky lately, why do you ask?

I'm of two minds about this result:.  

You Are 50% Left Brained, 50% Right Brained

The left side of your brain controls verbal ability, attention to detail, and reasoning.
Left brained people are good at communication and persuading others.
If you're left brained, you are likely good at math and logic.
Your left brain prefers dogs, reading, and quiet.

The right side of your brain is all about creativity and flexibility.
Daring and intuitive, right brained people see the world in their unique way.
If you're right brained, you likely have a talent for creative writing and art.
Your right brain prefers day dreaming, philosophy, and sports.
7 Dec
          I'm not dead yet. I just wish I was. stillnotbored (it's her birthday today, btw, so Happy Birthday Jaime!) suggested I send her a poem to make me feel better. Ha!
          My poetry sucks. Strange Horizons published the only poem I ever sold back in 01, and since it's in keeping with the holiday season (and their rights to it have long expired) I figured I'd post it here for y'all. You be the judge.

The Fright Before Christmas
By S. K. S. Perry

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the morgue,
Not a creature was stirring, not even the...um...Borg. (Yeah, that's
it. Borg is science fictiony. This poetry crap isn't all that hard.)

The zombies were nestled all snug in their coffins,
While visions of juicy brains, ran through their . . . their . . . (Nuts! I'd
better come back to that one later.)

When out in the cemetery there arose such a ruckus,
I thought, "It's a succubus, come here to . . . (Hmm. Better not.)

I sprang from my crypt, and ran to the window,
Looking for signs of that netherworld bimbo.
When what to my pustulant eyes should appear,
But a battered up sleigh, and eight rancid reindeer. (Hey, I'm on a roll here.)

"It's Santa," I thought. "There's nothing to fear."
The old fart's been dead for over a year.
His flesh was rotting, his bruises were purple,
His scalp showed in patches, his beard was all . . . (Aaarrgghhh!!)

He wasted no time, and got to work with a cough.
He hefted his sack, and two fingers fell off.
He spoke not a word, but filled all the crypts,
With brains, and blood, and a pair of wax lips. (Hey, at least it rhymes.)

Then he sprang to his sleigh, and with a wave of his mitt,
Left in a cloud of dead reindeer sh . . . (Hmm . . . I'll edit that later.)

I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight.
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good fright!

(What? You were expecting William Butler Yeats?)

8 Dec

You Are: 70% Dog, 30% Cat

You and dogs definitely have a lot in common.
You're both goofy, happy, and content with the small things in life.
However, you're definitely not as needy as the average dog. You need your down time occasionally.

9 Dec

          We're going to see Déjà vu after Pen gets off work tonight. I've wanted to see this movie for the past two weeks, but Pen's either been working, helping Chantel at the craft shows, or I've been sick. I'm pretty much over the flu now--still a bit of a cough, but the congestion, headaches, and general run down, run over feeling have subsided.
          Tomorrow we're going into T.O. to see Wicked, which should be fun. (The play, not the actual going into the city--which I'm sure will suck.)
          On the writing front, I have novels percolating in my head. The problem with that is they take a long time to brew--not like short stories, which are like instant coffee. Of course, if you leave them brewing too long they turn into sludge.
          And hey, I hate coffee to begin with. (It tastes like hot dirty dishwater, with a hint of lemon--oh, wait, that's tea. Well, same difference.)
          Hmmm…maybe I should let my novels ferment, like fine wine. Nope, that won't work--I hate alcohol even more than coffee or tea. It makes me chunda.
          I know, I'll let it simmer. Yeah, like stew, or spaghetti sauce. I love spaghetti, and I make a wicked stew, and…okay, gotta go now. Hungry.

11 Dec

          So Wicked was...well...wicked. Shoshana Bean played Elphaba, and Megan Hilty was Glinda, and let me tell you, those women can sing. Definitely one of my all time favorite plays. I will never be able to view the Wizard of Oz in the same way again, and that's a good thing. (Of course Steve Nagy's story THE HANGED MAN OF OZ accomplished the same thing, except in a creepier way.)
         Four rejections last week: two for the novel and two for short stories. Not only did I not publish this year, but the one magazine that did buy my story folded before it was published.
          Why is it again that people want to write with me? 

12 Dec

          So I'm back at work, and feeling much better. I'm still working on the radar system master document, and incorporating the new training aid into...zzzzzzzzzzz.
          Huh? What?
          Oh, sorry. Must have dosed off there for a bit.
          Okay, quick question. What do you do when you want to write, but you just don't feel like it? Or does that never happen to you? It's not just writing either. Sometimes I want to exercise, too. I think about what I'm going to do, how good it'll feel afterwards, and then....naaaaw.
          I mean, I have all these characters, plots and scenes worked out in my head. I can see the story arcs, character background and world building details, but when it comes to actually sitting down and getting to it--it can wait, right?
          It's not like I have all these other pressing matters to derail me either. I just don't feel like it. And it's not like I'm lazy--no, really. I'm not. Usually.
          I are so confused.

13 Dec

          I have an idea for a new novel about a virtual reality combat soldier in the future. It's called "CGI Joe."
          Okay, maybe not.

18 Dec

          The squadron Christmas party was Friday night. It was--okay. The food was great, but the officers have a tendency to want to speechify smack dab in the middle of festivities, which really spoils the momentum. And there was a live band, which is okay...I mean I play in a band, so I'm all for it, except when I see a live band I always want to play, not watch, which is frustrating. The band wasn't bad, but they were a 70s/80s rock band and they played the same crap every classic rock band plays.
          Saturday we celebrated Chantel's birthday, as well as her grandfathers. Chantel's birthday is actually the 15th, and her grandfather's is the 18th, so

H A P P Y     B I R T H D A Y     C H A N T E L     A N D     B A R R Y!!!.

          Sunday we went to see Eragon. Not bad, but it seemed a bit rushed. I've never read the book, so I can't say how faithful an adaptation it is, but the movie was only an hour and a half long, so they had time to add character/plot/world building details that would have made it better.
          And under the "How do it know?" banner:

  sksperry successfully averted WW3 with some covert operation that is top secret.
  ... afterward, sksperry tried to get on the price is right and failed.
  'How will you be remembered in history books?' at QuizGalaxy.com

And honestly, I'm not lost. I'm just exploring alternate routes:


We three kings of Orient are,
Bearing gifts we travel afar,
Field and fountain,
Moor and mountain,
Following yonder sksperry.

We Three Kings Of Orient Are
from the Christmas Song Generator.

Get your own song :

19 Dec

You Are An ENFP

The Inspirer

You love being around people, and you are deeply committed to your friends.
You are also unconventional, irreverant, and unimpressed by authority and rules.
Incredibly perceptive, you can usually sense if someone has hidden motives.
You use lots of colorful language and expressions. You're qutie the storyteller!

You would make an excellent entrepreneur, politician, or journalist.

20 Dec

          Writing is like weight lifting--if you haven't done it in a while, once you start up again it's really hard.
          Getting back into the gym after a month or so off is disheartening. You can't lift half the weight you used to, and you're lucky if you can do half as many reps. And everything hurts like hell for about a week afterwards.
          A long lay-off from writing amounts to the same thing. It takes forever to get a few measly words down on pixels, and they're not half as good as the words you used to write.
          That's why writing every day is a must. Not only does it keep your writing muscles in top shape, but it's easier to remember what the hell you were thinking about and where you were going with it when you wrote those last few pages.
          Of course, if I took all my own advice, I'd be healthy, wealthy and wise right now. (Well, okay--healthy and wealthy anyway.)

21 Dec: Fighting with Myself

"Time to get up."
"No, it's not."
"Yes, it is."
"It's still dark outside. The birds aren't even up yet."
"Doesn't matter, the alarm went off. That means it's time to get up."
"That wasn't the alarm, it was...um...the microwave. Yeah, that's the ticket."
"Get up. You'll be late for work."
"You're in the military. They can send you to jail for being late for work."
"Will they let me sleep in in jail?"
"Okay, just five more minutes."
"You don't have five more minutes. You still have to brush your teeth, shave, and shower. Oh, and get dressed. No going to work naked--again."
"What if I just brush every other tooth?"
"That would probably take longer."
"I could skip the shower?"
"No, you can't."
"Why not, everyone else at work does?"
"That's beside the point. You know if you don't shower you'll still be half asleep all day at work."
"And that will affect my job performance how?"
"Oh, yeah. Right. You'll probably get a promotion."
"No doubt, and--Holy Crap! I'm late. What's the big idea wasting my time arguing when I should be getting up?"
"Right. See you tomorrow?"
"06:30. Gotcha."

22 Dec

This cookie will self destruct in 5...4...3...  
My Fortune Cookie told me:
You have been selected for a secret mission. You will hear from us again.
Get a cookie from Miss Fortune

Well isn't that nice.  

My Peculiar Aristocratic Title is:
His Majesty Steven the Haunted of Witchhaven upon Avon
Get your Peculiar Aristocratic Title

27 Dec

          I'm having a great Christmas so far. Pen and I spent Christmas Eve at her parents with our daughter and her fiancée, then Christmas Day at my parents with my brother and his family, my sister and her family, and our son. We had a gut busting turkey dinner at my mom's, then packed up the next day and went back to Pen's mom's, where we had another gut-busting turkey dinner. (That's two, for those of you keeping track at home.)
          I got a butt-load of chocolate for Christmas. If you could convert all of the calories into electricity, there'd be enough to power a small city. Like…New York.
          Which kind of sucks, because Pen and I have decided to start "eating sensibly" in the New Year, and somehow I don't think chocolate makes the list. (I doubt eating two large turkey dinners back to back qualifies either.)
          I also made off with received almost three hundred dollars in gift cards (Future Shop, Chapters, Gas Card, Mark's Work Warehouse, Famous Players, The Keg, Swiss Chalet…),DVDs (The Da Vince Code, Superman Returns, MI:3), some colored CD/DVD sleeves, a case of Diet Pepsi, some wall-mounted Japanese calligraphy that means Luck/Prosperity (that's going over my writing desk), and a Buzz Lightyear Talking Room Sentry. (It's got a laser motion detector, and when you activate it it threatens you when you walk in the room until you deactivate it with the super duper sekrit code…coooool!)
          Oh yeah, Pen got stuff, too.

Well that explains a lot...  

The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world sksperry didn't exist.

Which movie was this quote from?

Get your own quotes:

29 Dec

Another one?  

In the year 2007 I resolve to:
Start a cult.


Get your resolution here.