The Great and Shining Path of the Monster Truck

I haven't kept up on my statement that I would post more, but that's fine, I never promised. But there is that nagging sensation rolling around the back of my head, some call it a conscience, so I will attempt to post more often, perhaps even with more intensity.

I will bring it, even if it has already been provided.

Today starts my first day back in college, and my first real foray into Ackworth land, where the one of many campuses rest. Rest it does, nuzzling its' redneck muzzle right into the butt crack of interstate 75, and it's one of those types of animals, the kind that won't fucking stop sniffing at your crotch until you've locked it in the closet. The specific campus I speak of has three buildings where one of which, whose size is larger than the other two combined, is the mechanic learning center. Yes. Mechanic. Learning. Center.

Sometimes I take a hard look at my life, and wonder what events led to this specific moment, where I stand like a foreign passenger in front of a New York City taxi cab, saying "this is going to hurt" over and over again.  I'd rather not pull at the threads that led me INTO the Mechanic, Learning, Center, but I will say that directions around here are a tainted mess, left behind by otherworldly demonic figures that are only happy when tech junkies like me fall into their soul sapping web of camouflaged hats, stickered deer slaying trucks and chewing tobacco.  I was told I was obviously in the wrong place, and that they had no idea what a VB.NET was, but they could think of some recreational uses for the thing.

Jan. 1st has gone and past by and I have not posted a short story, or web comic. Rest assured, as the Ackworthians do, these are coming. I've added  more projects along with these, a actual play Podcast, and very likely a releasing, chapter by chapter, of my first novel experience. Ink. A editor, well after she edits it I'll official consider her an editor, is combing through  my piles of filth now. I imagine it is  hard to connect my horrible grammar together like some sort of illiterate version of the DaVinci Code. I wish her well, not many come back sane.