Memorial

God, I see why Amanda Fucking Palmer has so many depressing songs about this place.

Anyway, haven't found the kids yet, which is pretty fucking weird. Normally, when I get to the same place as Smiley, I walk right to his base of operations. Not this time.

I think it really is trying something new. That worries me. A lot. I like Smiley better when it's predictable. Either this is just a phase, it's doing this for a reason, or, worst of all, it's changing again. I hope its not the last part.

Also, pretty sure I'm being followed. Not sure by who, though. Oh well. When/if they show themselves, me, the Colt, and them can have a chat.

So, if you've looked at the comments, you've seen that it looks like the Queen of Cups has made a blog and has decided to be creepy and weird in my comments. So long as she doesn't do anything beyond that, she can be as creepy and weird as she wants.

I have a feeling I'm going to regret saying that.

In other news, staying in that house gave me a chance to catch up on some of the blogs I've been missing. I didn't realize I'd missed so much. Fuck, I didn't even know Hunter was gone.

He was kind of a kindred spirit, in a way. Both hunting. I know it wasn't that simple for him, but still. It was good to see I wasn't the only one on a doomed quest to kill the unkillable.

I'll miss you, you crazy brainwashed bastard.

And Jordan, aka like the most fucking doomed person I've ever fucking seen...I made that big speech about letting us help him, and then dropped off the face of the fucking earth. I don't know what I was thinking. I'm sorry, Jordan. I'll try to make it up to you.

Fuck, I should make it up to everyone out there. To everyone running, everyone trying to solve a mystery, every monster-hunter, scholar, and innocent involved in all this Fear business: Good fucking luck, guys and girls, and stay safe. If you need help, drop me a line, and if I'm in the area, I'd be happy to watch your back.

But if it's a trick I will probably shoot you. Dia's made me fucking paranoid. Thanks a fucking lot, Dia.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go steal a forty. I have a promise to keep.

NOW addendum

I could post more self-indulgent, inspirational bits about how fucking badass I am, but honestly I'm tired of writing about monsters. I mean, I deal with monsters all the time. Honestly right now I just want to write something else and get my mind off my uterus for a while. Yeah, TMI, deal with it.

Also, I haven't really been feeling well lately, mentally, and, well, talking about music seems to work for other people in similar situations.

I don't think I like Who Killed Amanda (Fucking) Palmer as much as I like her Dresden Dolls stuff. I mean, it's alright, some of the songs are pretty catchy, but her group stuff is so much better.

I dunno, maybe it's too over-produced? I mean, it's not bad, but I'm not sure there's anything on the album quite as good as Gravity or Delilah. Maybe I'm just nit-picking, or maybe I just automatically recoil when I read or hear the name Ben Folds like a vampire recoils from a cross.

Oasis is pretty fun, though. I really like lyrical dissonance.

Part of it is, I think, that I really liked the earlier stuff, which is weird because before Punk Cabaret I mostly listened to stuff my dad liked-- the Stones, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Queen, Van Halen (Between this and taking me hunting, can you tell he really, really wanted a son, yet?). But when Tara introduced me to the music of Amanda (Fucking) Palmer and Brian Viglione, I found myself, kind of against my will, loving it. And WKA(F)P is different. That's part of the point, though. A lot of it is stuff she didn't want to release on a Dresden Dolls album because she didn't think it would fit. And I'm glad she released it here rather than on a Dresden Dolls album.

Also, I miss Brian Viglione. His drumming is fucking amazing, especially if you've seen it done live. I mean, even though I'm not really into this whole 'sex' thing, I would fuck Brian Viglione in a heartbeat. I don't think I'm even attracted to him, personally. I think it's some weird fucking primal thing about those drums.

Speaking of Dresden Dolls, I kinda wonder if the Orange Man from Slide is another "Fear", or if he's just one of the thousand references to getting molested Amanda (Fucking) Palmer puts in her songs. I mean, just from a little research I'm finding a lot of them labeled the ____ Man. Hell, the...whatever the fuck it is I'm chasing, Mr. Smiles (I've decided not to give it the dignity of the longer version of its name), was originally named the Smiling Man by its originators. They're like anti-super heroes. Invulnerable, unbeatable, and undeniably evil. Sweet dreams!

Anyway, back on topic and away from the depressing one, my favorite part of Who Killed Amanda (Fucking) Palmer is the end of the thing Gaiman wrote on the back of it. (which is a weird thing to be my favorite but I digress) "If you see Amanda (Fucking) Palmer on the street, kill her. That way she'll live forever."

Fuck, if you see Jeanette (Motherfucking) Cotton on the street, give her a sandwich and some fucking ammunition, that way she'll live a few more weeks.