The Festo - A Year and a Half and Other Stories

Hell, it's been a long while since my last post (approximately 1 year, 6 months, and 14 days), and let me tell you, I've done some shit. I've seen some shit, man. I've killed babies. Well, not exactly. I'm not returning from Vietnam or anything, although in the time I've neglected this page, I have been living life, and that's enough experience for me. I returned from my Air Force training in August of 09, picked up a full-time job in the corporate world while doing the reservist thing, and have been getting shitty while wasting my money on women and booze in the subsequent 11 months. What more could a little boy want in life? Maybe some bitches from a rap video ('cause who doesn't like bitches from a rap video), a sponsorship from Miller Lite (I have literally spent tens of thousands of dollars on you, Miller Lite, and I think it's time I reaped some benefits; I'm practically a shareholder), and the next great novel. Yes, these three things would be nice, and I'm fairly certain that if I pray hard enough to baby Jesus, I'll get them. Anyway, that's been the life since the hiatus, love it or hate it, take it or leave it. The bottom line is: I'm probably getting more pussy than you, so if you want to think about my escapades when you masturbate, I'm not going to hold it against you.

Now that I'm done telling you about how cool I am, or wish I was, we can get on to the next few things on the agenda, first being my scrapping of a couple sections of The MannyFesto. I'm tossing Dispatched, the Skinny Post, and any other garbage idea that may have passed for a headliner before out of the window, off my property, off my damn street, and out of the damn country, like an illegal immigrant with a rap sheet. Sorry, Pedro, but you like to rape little girls, get drunk, AND crash your 93 Miata into American taxpayers, killing them in the process? And we want to hold you here for a fair trial? No dice, compadre, get your ass back to El Salvador and suck on some corn on the cob or some shit. And that's what I think of the segments Dispatched and The Skinny Post; they can get out of town and catch a train, or I'll be waiting with my super-sweet Easton metal tee-ball bat that I keep behind my door in case some rowdy bitch has something to say at 4 in the morning. Nevertheless, I'm leaving The Festo and The Popcorn Editorial on the table because that's what God has chosen for me, and when I say God, I mean that ham sandwich I ate for lunch that somehow reminded me to come revamp the Festo and get on that keyboard grind again.

Lastly, I'd like to point out a little something that I've taken the pleasure of endorsing: National Novel Writing Month, abbreviated NaNoWriMo. It's a rather substantial community of writers that has been convening for 11 years now and growing in the process, and each November, they challenge anyone and everyone to write 50,000 words (175-page novel) in 1 month. You're allowed to brainstorm as much as you'd like, but writing any part of the novel is expressly forbidden before November 1st. I, myself, am entirely intrigued by this gathering and will be participating this November for their 12th year. I'd urge anyone with an itch to write, even if you had an idea for a story at just one time in your life, to join the fun. Certainly, check out the website, nanowrimo.org, for more info and to browse the forums, which are teeming with hilarious material. So, until next time, this is me signing off. I'll see you when we catch eyes as I'm railing your mother.