It's 2006. Say hi.
On my teaching evaluation forms, which I read today, one student wrote that I was conceptually brilliant.
So, it appears my decision to withdraw my Atheling nomination has met with some resistance, which I didn't expect. I kind of like the decisions that relate to me to be respected, as I am this adult of mild intelligence who lives in a democracy, but I guess that argument slices both ways.
I think I'm going to start a band called Hemingway's Rifle and pitch a short story collection called That Was Hemingway's Suicide, Not Mine.
I just walked past the television, and some old guy was saying, "Polls clearly show that Australians trust John Howard in the matter of National Security."
Today it hit me: I don't really enjoy bookstores anymore.
Have you ever been searched by the cops?
I find this interesting because it touches on things I'm thinking as I write Twenty-Six Lies/One Truth.
You can now pre-order Twenty-Six Lies/One Truth for $14.95 on the Wheatland Press site.
Went and saw the Drones last night at the Gaelic Club, which is a venue I do not like.
I had poisoned apples, but no children. No one loves Halloween here.
Here's some things about my fiction from around the 'net.
(The meme works like so: Go back in your journal and take the first sentence from your first post on the first day of the month (or closest to) for all 12 months of 2006.)