Ah yes, another year older another year... well, not wiser certainly, that ship sailed off into the rose-tinted sunset a long time ago. Last transmission, 'Fuck! Iceberg!!!' Or maybe, 'Arrrgh! Pirates!!!' Something like that anyway, it's difficult to tell when your ears are full of jelly and ice cream*.
I know a lot of people are anti-birthday. They see it as another stony step towards the grave, the box, gonna be food for worms (to quote Alabama 3), but I see it as yet another three hundred and sixty five days of successfully cheating death. Hahahaha! Take that you bony-faced bastard!
And I have a veritable avalanche of cards this year (well, six) and only one of them has the kind of verse inside that makes me want to vomit! How cool is that? Not only do I have cards, I have presents! Which I shall now proceed to taunt you with: a new shirt and a case of beer. Mmm, beer... Unfortunately there isn't room for it in the fridge, so I'm having a pint of milk at the moment to clear up some space, but once that's all gone, it's welcome to beersville, population: me.
And as if that wasn't enough, last night She Who Must Occasionally Be Taken Out In Public Lest She Start Speaking In Tongues** And Communicating With Small Lumps Of Green, Hairy Cheddar From The Back Of The Fridge*** and I went to see HOT FUZZ and from thence to Pizza Express for... well... pizza.
And this morning I even managed to get my daily word count done. Which makes a sodding change. So all in all, not a bad day.
Added to all this, the Dutch thriller website Crimezone.nl has been reviewing DOOD KALM:
"In Dood kalm schetst Stuart Macbride opnieuw een ontluisterend beeld van het politiecorps in het granietgrauwe Aberdeen. Sfeer en toonzetting zijn keihard. Dit is het echte politieleven, niet geromantiseerd. Succes behalen en falen, vreugde en verdriet, uithuilen en opnieuw beginnen, elke dag opnieuw. Die onmenselijk zware taak ligt in handen van doodgewone mensen. Stuart MacBride is hun onbetwiste chroniqueur. Een topauteur."
There was talk of an interview going up on there as well, but I can't for the life of me find it. Maybe it's hiding?
To the fridge!
* Not jelly, ice cream and custard, mark you. That would make for an appallingly childish gag (go on, you know you want to).
** Which sounds REALLY weird when done with a Fife accent.
*** Where they're taking up valuable real-estate that could be better filled with BEER!
Labels: Dying Light, stuff