May. 23rd, 2010

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I've become addicted to Joan Osborne's most recent album, Little Wild One.  I think she's the only singer I've ever heard who can make yodelling sound sexy. Seriously. She's hotter than Texas in August and this album is made of vast amounts of country/rock/pop win.  There's a couple of songs I skip over (er, not so big on 'Cathedrals' as a song in general), but I think that much of this album is going to be the soundtrack to the summer. Especially if the weather stays like this. Today was sunny. Today was scorchingly hot. This is not normal for Britain. The end is nigh. At least there's good music.

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I have far too many prospective writing projects on the go. Behold an excerpt from my steampunk Western:

"Should reach New Abilene by nightfall." said Theo, stirring rice.

"Mm-hmm." Jane leaned back against the knobbly tree trunk and let her eyes unfocus until the horizon became a swirl of blue and green and gold. She dug the telegram out of her pocket (her fingers had begun to smudge it), and unfolded it.

Marshall, she read, Van Fleet and Crusoes on warpath Stop.Could use backup Stop

Starbuck.

She looked up from it to find Theo smirking at her. His long nose was suited to it. "It say anything different this time around?"

She smirked back. "Yeah. Starbuck says to tell Jones he can go way back and sit down."

Theo spat out a small stone from a mouthful of rice.. "Starbuck wouldn’t pay to say all that."

"Doubt he’d pay anyways."

"Damn One O’Clockers and their expenses. Somethin’ ain’t right there. Why can we never file expenses, Jane?"

They ate in amicable silence. When Jane could feel herself drifting into an afternoon food and sun stupor, she reached over and tugged gently on Theo’s tail. "C’mon Jonesy, let’s shake some dust."

"Pull my tail again, and Marshall or no, I will plug you."

"Big talk from a guy with short ears."

"My ears are not short!" Theo patted at them protectively.

"Short ears," she said, and reached over and flicked his ears inside out, and bounced to her feet before he could whomp her.

"Rodeo ass." he said indignantly.

She burst out laughing. "Rodeo ass? What does that even mean?"

"I don’t know. It sounded better in my head."

They packed and mounted and rode out into the afternoon.

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February 2011

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