Something for the Weakened

Archive for October, 2009

All Writing Eve

October 31st, 2009 by

So it looks like I shall be starting NaNoWriMo alone tomorrow. Boo I say to you all (in an annoyed rather than attemptedly terror inducing style). I might provide updates and extracts as I did last year, or possibly spurn you all for your indolence. Let’s see what my reaction is tomorrow.

Oh, and the Contact icon above is still knackered and looks likely to remain that way for some time. Grumble.


October 28th, 2009 by

A chum of mine, Markuss Tames, asked me to do some logos for a podcast he does. So I did. This is what one of them looks like.

Design 2

In the likely event that you’re unable to read it, it says ‘Eclectronimentica’. Because that’s what the podcast’s called. Do you see? Currently its only available to Markuss’s close personal friends, so I’m afraid I can’t provide you with a link to an episode without betraying a trust. I might be appearing in an episode soon though, so can probably justify one then. Keep watching, pigglerims.

Facebook Status Updates I Will Never Have The Balls To Post

October 26th, 2009 by

Number 1.

Something For The Weakened thought he might have had a chance with her, until he spotted her snogging the chap dressed as a penguin.

(thank fuck no one I know reads this shite)

Fact of the Day

October 23rd, 2009 by

A friend of mine was telling me that his other half had joined a Literary Club. Now I can’t shake the image of some poor sap bellowing Ulysses over pounding techno beats.

Fact of the Day

October 21st, 2009 by

All she wanted from me was an emotional crutch. All I wanted from her was the opportunity to jizz on her glasses. Clearly it was never going to work.

Probably not a fact actually…

Some Sunday Stuff

October 18th, 2009 by

Few things to whizz through, so let’s do it sharpishly. The Contact link is still broken, though I do have some assurances that it will be fixed in the not too distant future. I’d like it done properly, so I’m not going to hire cowboys to claim they’re fixing it while they’re actually eating me out of biscuits and scratching. Will let you know when its up and running, but until then, any attempts at correspondence can be sent to theweakened at gmail dot com.

My offer of three copies of my attempt at last year’s NaNoWriMo were met with exactly three responses. My hope of getting someone to grovel for a fourth were sadly dashed by your collective indifference. I would offer another three, though can only imagine that I’ve doled out copies to the only people remotely interested in them and would feel massively crushed when no one asked. Thusly, if anyone wants a look, drop me a line and I’m unlikely to refuse and will probably feel massively flattered until I learn you’ve stolen all my ideas, worked out where I’ve stolen them from and forced legal actions on me by the actually creative people’s estates, showing me up as the horrible, plagiarising shill I really am. Write in if you want. And plase sign up for this year’s, befriend me (I’m the only theweakened registered) and force my creative juice out. Thangyew.

Penultimately, if anyone can explain to me why the purple man is wearing a cape, why he is allowed near children and why I feel a massive sense of foreboding in the last shot of this clip, I’d really appreciate your input.

This is yet another instance of my stealing from the ever wonderful Robert Popper (apparently he was in Peep Show last week, fact fans). In recompense (of sorts) here’s a little bit of him in his Robin Cooper guise. Adieu.

Very Short Story for the Weakened

October 17th, 2009 by

Fingers McGraw was the finest cat burglar of the decade. Known throughout the world for his audacious stunts. Breaking into Fort Knox, doing a poo in the Ladies, then breaking out again? That was him. Lifting the Mahambraha diamond out of its case, doing a poo and then plopping the diamond back on top? Him too. See, that was Fingers’ problem. Scatology. He couldn’t break into anywhere without leaving his shit there as a calling card. Problem was, after he’d taken his dump, Fingers never wanted to stel nothing no more. Some said that the act of him passing a log just about killed the criminal tendency in his mind. Other folk said he was just unlucky, getting caught short in some pretty awkward places and using these innate skills of his so’s he wouldn’t have to park his breakfast out in the street. Course, we’ll never know the truth now. See, Fingers got caught, back in ‘32. He’d just managed to het hisself into the Royal vault in the Tower of London and was alying a length down on the CRown Jewels when a Beefeater caught him brown buttocked. Treason was still a hanging offence back then, so old Fingers got sent to the gallows. Know what folk say his last words were as his head went into that noose? “You’ll never guess what’s up there.” Boy, did they ever find out.

Please Have Bags Ready

October 15th, 2009 by

The other day I was playing with my lips in an idle moment, when I accidentally managed to disgorge the contents of a partially formed pimple that had been growing in one of their outer recesses. It was that really liquidy sort of pus you sometimes find in a semi-formed spot. A bit managed to drooze into my mouth. It tasted of rancid gorgonzola and bad feet. Now shut up and kiss me.

Facts of the Day

October 13th, 2009 by

While leaping down some stairs earlier, I managed to jar my balls. In a ‘jarring moment’ sort of a way. I didn’t start dipping them in jam. Then.

Three people have now requested last year’s NaNoWriMo experiment (as outlined in my previous post) and hopefully received them. If you would also like a copy, please follow the guidelines below and include some excess grovelling as to why you think you deserve to read it. Because you don’t, you tardy fucktards.


October 11th, 2009 by

Thing One – Yeah, the Contact icon still doesn’t work. I wonder if it will ever be fixed. Sniff. Correspondence can still be directed directly to theweakened at gmail dot com.

Thing Two – There have been a couple of responses to my NaNoWriMo request of a few days ago. First was from increasingly regular corresponder Dark Satanic Mills, who said;-

Given your recent adventures in facial hair …

I’ll do NaNoWriMo if you do Movember!

For those not in the know, Mowvember is the month long ‘tache growing fest in aid of cancer research. Marvellous though the idea is (I know some folk that participated last year), it appears that two weeks is the longest time I can stand life with a muzzy as mine vanished into the ether (sink) earlier today. I could make the effort to grow a replacement, but the speed at which my facial hair grows would leave me with a barely visible fuzz after a mere month’s growing. Thus it seems unlikely. Shortly afterwards, regular correspondent Dick Gappy chipped in with the following;-

I think you should do LoNoEdMo this year – local novel editing month. Why start afresh when you have loads of good stuff already? Just spend a month writing a 2nd draft that actually makes sense!

Dick is one of the few people who has read my effort of eleven months ago and was surprisingly complimentary about it, surly swine that he generally is. Its a reasonably good point, but I’d still rather try and get another one under my hat. As I stated, one of the main reasons for my failure to edit last year’s effort is the absence of an element of competition (yes, yes, and my own idleness). If someone is willing to challenge me at speed editing their own piece of prose, with constant daily updates as to how far they’ve got, then I might give it a go. As it stands though, I still want to compose something entirely new. Can’t have too many ideas, can you.

Thing Three – Inspired by all this talk, does anyone want to read my effort of last year? Let’s say the first three people who email asking to will receive the first draft in their inboxes shortly afterwards. Its a bit rough and ready and the ending’s frankly appalling, but there’s some fun to be had with it. Only proviso – you must give an honest critique after reading. One word critiques are allowed. In the unlikely event that more than three people ask, erm, I’ll probably send you one anyway.

Thing Four – Shitass Petfuckers.