Oh, such tedious bureaucracy. Woe and fie (whatever the fuck that actually means – I could Google it, but it’s 3:30am and I still have an hour of work to do after this).
I’m trying to organise my chaotic existence into something more efficient, worthwhile, and slightly less chubby. Part of that means less screwing about on various 40K forums, and sorting out all the hours I spend online each day, gazing blearily at nonsense instead of cracking word count. Facebook is the prime culprit here, as my page was becoming a mess of old school friends who didn’t understand why I kept talking about books and Space Marines; family members who don’t know what the Fantasy and Science-Fiction genre is (and really don’t care); and the ever-increasing numbers of readers who were having to dig through the boring stuff to get to what they really wanted: info about my work, or to see me complaining about stuff.
But seriously, folks. My Facbook page was a mess. I’m chopping my personal page down to use with family, close friends and industry schmoozing, which means I’ll barely ever touch it. Most of my time will be on my fan page (ugh, even the name makes me cringe…), which will take over everything my last page did. I’ll be unfriending about 99% of the people on my personal page in the next few days. Enjoy the purge. Consider yourselves to be, like, hangover puke, but in a good way. You always feel great after yarking up when hungover, y’know?
That’s you guys, right there. That’s your destiny. You’ll feel that good.
So check it out here: http://www.facebook.com/aarondembskibowden. Click ‘Like’ if you give a damn about my work. Click elsewhere if you have better things to do with your time. I know how it is, man. I won’t judge you.
Well, not to your face, anyway.
Also, in its role as the techno-aetherial matriarch spoonfeeding lore to 21st Century life, the internet decided that I really had to know the following fact: Axl Rose is totally fat now. The articles then went on to talk about how he looked slimmer in his glory days (no, really?), and how gross it was that he was rolling through doors and being floated above Paris as a weather balloon, or whatever.
Axl Rose is like… fifty or something. His blood’s got to be at least 80% whiskey by now, he’s so rich that he never needs to move when he has sex (the hookers do all the work now), and he wears make-up made from the very finest cocaine. If you or me were half a century old and lived his lifestyle, at absolute best we’d look exactly the same as he does. It’s much more likely that we’d look like Yoda. So let’s be honest, he’s doing okay. After the life he’s lived, he has every right to look like he was standing in the desert sunshine millennia ago, overseeing construction of the Cheops Pyramid.
A 50-year-old man is overweight? For really reals? He weighs more than he did when he was 23? HOLD THE FRONT PAGE. Someone get me that guy with the sunglasses from CSI: Miami. He’ll solve this mystery.
If we ‘re going to discuss Guns N’ Roses, there are way better angles to talk about, like how Izzy Stradlin was objectively the best member and that Axl Rose always comes across as a douche messiah in his interviews. Come at it from that angle, and you’ve secured the crucial Aaron vote.
Now leave me alone and go Like my Facebook page. I need to write about a primarch having his throat cut by the Lion.
(EDIT: http://www.thefreedictionary.com/fie. And knowing is half the battle.)