The Demonweasel Speaks

So Is hould be paying attention to basketball as we head into playoff season but I’ve had kind of a B-Ball lethargy ever since the Nets were sold. I know they aren’t moving to Brooklyn for another couple of years, but it’s just heartbreaking. It’s like meeting the love of your life, and then have them get hit by a bus.

Oh wait, that happened to me last night. Yes, my girlfriend got hit by a bus as she was crossing the street. Yes, she is okay, although feels like, well, she was hit by a bus. She is, and through her, I am, very lucky.

But basketball…eh. I’ll watch the playoffs, sure. That’s a given. The Nets are doing well, that’s great, I’ll root for them, but in a way I’m kind of sad that I’m going to have to be a Knicks fan now (because seriously, when your team leaves you, you can’t be a looser and follow them, you have to hate them back, like they obviously hate you). I mean, NJ has nothing of it’s own. The Giants are a New York team even though they play in Jersey. It’s lame, but that’s the way it is.

I was watching the Kings/Lakers game earlier, and it was a savage beating. A travesty to watch, but that’s because the Lakers were the ones doing the beating. If it had been Sac-town laying the smackdown, it’d have been a joyous event. But no, the Devil Lakers were winning. With thier fiery lake of hot, evil, devilness. Devil Lakers, fo shore.

I started a new short story tonight. We’ll see what happens. I’m hoping it will be finishable and all that. I’m still not used to things actual being finished, and that makes me sad. I haven’t gotten myself trained to expect that, to know the progress and ebb and flow of starting something, finishing it, editing it, making it better, having a final, polished thing. Writing is always so haphazard for me.

And here I am looking for a new job when what I want to do is write. And what have I done? Not much.

I say “looking for a new job” like I’m out there, Willy Loman style. No, I’m not. I say “I’m looking for a new job” out loud, and wait for thousands of jobs to fly past me in a dizzying array like I’m in the Matrix. Not gonna happen.

But I’m trying. Honest.

In better news, I got two free advance screening passes to go see “Hellboy” this coming Monday. Websterís defines “kick-ass (adj.)” as: “Getting advance passes to go see “Hellboy,” for free.” It does. I looked it up. My friend Chris saw “Dawn of the Dead” over the weekend, twice, within a 24 hour period. That’s how good he says it is. Maybe I’ll go see that too. And on Friday, I’m making myself enchiladas, with chicken, cheese, onions, peppers and green chilies. Mmmm, mmmm, good.

Because I’m stuck on zombie-brand, because zombie-brand is stuck on me, I remain…