The 35th Precinct

I meant to talk about this several days ago, but alas, I was distracted by the lure of holding forth on various television shows. I finally got my hands on Keith R.A. DeCandido's latest Supernatural tie-in, Bone Key. I say finally because neither Borders nor Waldenbooks carried it, and I had to hit the Barnes and Noble at the run-down mall in town to find it. Bastards. Between this game of book scavenger hunt and Best Buy not stocking Metallica's latest release the day it came out, I can't help but wonder if the retail world is being run by meth-addled monkeys with boner-induced hypoxia.

Oh, dear. I'm straying far afield from my intended topic. That happens when I'm recovering from a morning on city public transit. It's frightening, being strapped down like cheap cargo while a nicotine-jonesing bus driver hurtles through waddling city traffic full of stoned college students and self-important bureaucrats, and being frightened makes me logy and tired. I suspect it's all that white-knuckled clutching.

( Book Review: Bone Key, by Keith R.A. DeCandido--SPOILERS )

B+

Because I don't have enough of a fic backlog, what with spn13 in sore need of a contribution, I signed up for spn_summergen 2008. The assignment will be mailed out May 22, and the fic will be due July 4. No pressure there. The due date is problematic, IMHO, but I knew what it was when I signed up, so that's that. I'll just have to finish ahead of time.

Friday was a mixed bag.

The Good: I left the apartment and got some fresh air and sun for the first time in 2 weeks.

I had chicken teriyaki at Sarku Japan.

I bought Anansi Boys by Neil Gaiman for seven bucks in hardcover. It was on the publishers' remainders table in Barnes and Noble.

I had a candy apple.


The Bad: Roomie went to McDonald's for breakfast, and the special education valedictorian who took the order botched it; I got a sausage biscuit instead of a sausage McMuffin with egg. They charged us for the McMuffin, however. Ass maggots.

As we were leaving the house to go to the mall, we noticed that the pipes outside were spurting water with the cheerful gusto of veteran bukkake competitors. At one point, they spurted in sequence and bore an uncanny resemblance to those lighted fountains in Vegas that spout and surge to music. If only I'd had a copy of Handel's "Messiah". Luckily, after the Great Sewage Revolt of 2005, the complex installed flapper valves on the pipe ends so that toxic sewage couldn't back up into the apartments of those who might have weakened immune systems, or who might be quadriplegic and therefore unable to flee a turd tidal wave should one come surging forth from the drain and toilet. So no sewage menaced my apartment from within. We notified the complex manager, and when we returned, they'd cleared the pipes and sprinkled the area with lime.

I couldn't find Four Walls, the latest CSI:NY tie-in, at the bookstore. Not a trace. I'll have to check Borders next week.

Speaking of Four Walls, its author, Keith R.A. DeCandido, has oozed onto the TalkCSI boards to schmooze and pimp the book. He even created a topic on the forum to pimp the release and trawl for comments. I know it's harmless, and I know it's writerly instinct to pimp your babies, but it rubs me the wrong way. Maybe it's because I know that if I were to post a thread dedicated to pimping my latest fanfic, I'd get thwapped for posting off-topic and told to post it in the appropriate forum(but only if it's PG-13 or lower, of course). But since he's a proficcer writing official fanfic, it's perfectly acceptable to schmooze, gladhand, and drop treacly, self-serving hints the size of Volvos about the status of his sparkly fic. In the most heavily-trafficked fora instead of the most appropriate ones, like, oh, say, Merchandise. Agh.

Moving on...

Before coming home, I ordered a 6" roast beef from Subway. What I got was a 6" turkey. Roast beef does not sound like turkey, nor does it look like turkey. I can only surmise that the hideously misidentified "sandwich expert" was another mouthbreather from Club Special Ed, mayhap even kin to the valedictorian holding court at the McDonald's. Greatness runs in families, you know.

( NCIS 515-In the Zone--SPOILERS )

Fail. Utter, utter fail.