Sunday, August 26, 2012

truncated days and extended nights

We all hate when it starts to happen - the end of summer.

I must say though that I am not going to miss the heat one bit. Not that I do well at 40 below, but anything over plus 25 and 90 percent humidity is just wrong for me.

Still, I’m noticing the sun coming up later and going down earlier - a sign that the school year is about to start and I can get back to somewhat of a regular schedule for myself.

Despite the various and numerous distractions this summer, I’ve done pretty well on my one major project - I’m closing in on finishing my prototype space-faring board game. My plan to have it ready for testing by Sept 1 may be delayed a week or two, but no more than that.

And my reading, though it slowed down, still progresses at a healthy pace.

I just finished "Dead Beat" a Dresden book, number 7 in the series, this week. I must say it was just as much fun as the others which preceded it.

Jim Butcher has something good going on here and, hell, it’s just plain fun to read.

And because it is the last Sunday of the month - it’s games day again today!

I like games day . . . maybe a bit too much, but hey we all have our evil vices.

Today I’m bringing along "Defenders of the Realm" and "Elder Sign." Nothing new to report on the game front this week as far as acquisitions go since I kinda blew all my budget money this summer on games already . . . um, yeah.

I did ditch five games though through auction a month back, so the new stock just replaced those ones I got rid of . . . my rational, and I’m sticking with it.

And I must be getting old - you see, I’m off to Canada’s Wonderland this week with my offspring and her friend - and I’m bringing a book . . .

Yeah, not going to go on those monster coasters that go 100 miles an hour and drop 2000 feet and loop backwards ten times while you are suspended by one foot . . . um, you get the picture.

My inner ear just can’t take that kind of abuse anymore. If I really feel the need to torture myself this late in the game all I need do is listen to a politician for a few minutes . . .

Still, I’m pretty excited about choosing a book to read for the day . . . my life, the thrills, the chills, the . . . hey, I saw that!

So, with the imminent arrival of Fall, I am gearing up to set some goals and objectives for myself with regards to board game creation, reading, writing, exercise and cleaning . . .

I won’t bore you with details . . . this week.

Until next Sunday . . .

Sunday, August 19, 2012

busy crazy old guy fun

So, this week turned out to be a sort of vacation for me (yeah I pretty much slacked off) . . . and I’m tuckered out because of it.

You see, the girls were gone for the entire week leaving me to batch it like it’s 1999 . . . or something . . .

Did I party! . . . um, no.

Did I drink! . . . um, no.

Did I dance! . . . you have got to be kidding me, right?

No, what I did was game to excess. And finish book number 62 for the year.

Yeah, when you advance in age it’s all about the exciting intellectual pursuits because, well, the body does not want to play nice anymore with regards to the first three mentioned activities.

And wisdom tells one that doing any one of those three to excess when one is on the descending slope of life leads to a world of pain . . . for a long time afterwards. You know, when I was . . . OMG - not going there!

So (he said with glee), I got to play multiple games of Sentinels of the Multiverse, Zombie Dice, Star Trek the deck building game, Castle Ravenloft, Wrath of Ashardalon and Arkham Horror . . . Wil Wheaton - eat your Tabletop gaming heart right out with a melon ball scooper!

But all that sitting and concentrating and cussing (when we were getting out aching butts handed to us) took its toll and I still ache as I type this post up.

Still, I had a blast and would do it all again any week.

Oh, and another super cool highlight of my week - getting a new clock! . . .

Hey, old guy here - let me have my small joys.

Now you would think getting a new clock would be sort of boring, and for most it likely is.

But this is no ordinary clock.

You see, it’s linked via the ether to an atomic clock in Colorado and updates itself automatically . . .


No squeal of excitement? - or, Paul, OMG?! - where can I get mine!

Okay, maybe it’s just me then . . .

I just thought it was so cool putting in the batteries and having it home in on the mothership’s signal and update itself. It even recognized my time zone and will automatically adjust for Daylight Savings Time - and is supposed to be accurate to within a fraction of a second . . .

Yes, I am amused and excited by things most are not.

And, by looking at said aforementioned clock, I see I have used up my allotted rambling time for this week . . . and so, I’ll tend to my aches and pains, and leave you to get on with your day.

Have a good one!

Until next Sunday . . .

Monday, August 13, 2012

two of two fiction snippets

Today’s post will be a the second of two short snippets of writing I read Friday night at our reading night gathering.

Today’s selection does contain some sexual innuendo and lip to lip contact . . . and black candles . . . you have been warned. Enjoy!

Fiction Snippet Two:

by Paul Darcy

It may have been the music.

It could have been the rum.

It may have been the alignment of stars . . . but I was pretty sure it was none of those factors except the one I didn’t want to think about.


She was my latest girlfriend, but I was pretty sure dropping the second ‘r’ would be closer to the mark. The things she did, the way she walked, the way she handled my . . . red light!

Shit, I’d nearly driven straight through it.

I was sure she had, at the least, cast a spell on me. Even if I didn’t believe in such nonsense, what else could explain it?

Yes, she was pretty. Yes, she was sexy and the way she knew how to handle . . . holy shit! I’d just run a red and nearly gotten into a collision. That’s it. I was heading straight home and parking the car before I got into an accident.

Safely in the driveway, I got to the front door and couldn’t, for the life of me, recall if I’d locked the car or not. I pressed the key fob once more for good measure and registered the double beep from the car’s horn letting me know it was locked. Good, but did I lock my apartment before I went out tonight?

I tried the door. It was open. Damn, but I was pretty sure I’d locked it. Though, after last week and Amy, I was always a bit unsure of everything. I went inside. It was dark and I turned on the hall light.

I made double sure the door was locked behind me. Yup, locked. I even looked at the bolt mechanism to make sure.
Once in the small kitchen I threw my keys on the table and made for the fridge. My hand almost touched the handle when I heard, "heya, home so soon?"

What the - it was Amy? She was in my apartment. I wracked my brain but couldn’t recall giving her a key. Maybe I did. Maybe I . . . awe hell, I just couldn’t remember.

"Hiya," I called back feeling like my life was suddenly not my own.

She appeared, like a ghost, suddenly, all diaphanous, glowing, radiant even. She was wearing a see-through nightgown. Now, I knew for sure I did not have that in my wardrobe. She must have brought it with her.

"Um, hey," I replied feebly, swallowing reflexively.

Before I could gain my composure, or even pull my hand back from the fridge handle she was on me, in close, pressing her lips against my own. Like a sudden jolt from of a powerful drug, I was overcome. My god she tasted good, and the feel of her body was overwhelming.

Amy removed her lips from mine and I felt as though I might drop from fatigue at the sudden pain from the loss of her contact.

"So," she said, "are you ready for tonight?"

Amy said it like I was totally up to speed on what ‘tonight’ was supposed to mean for us.

Wanting to not appear idiotic I replied, "sure, of course," not having a single clue what I was supposed to be all prepared for.

"Good," Amy said, and smiled her radiant smile, "follow me."

I was unable to resist. The way she smelled, walked, smiled. I nearly dropped right there, but to do so would not have allowed me to follow and so, through some force of will, I remained erect and obeyed her command.

She led me to my bedroom where, on the floor, were set many lit black candles and some design drawn on his floor with what looked like chalk. What the hell was this? But, looking at her form underneath her garments, thoughts of sinister plots fled my mind.

I sat down across from her inside the drawn designs and she held out her hands to me. I took hold of her hands, and she smiled at me once more. "Hecate," she began, "here my call."

And that’s when my doorbell rang.

I looked at Amy, and she looked annoyed. "Damn," she said, releasing my hands. "Don’t go away, I’ll be right back."
I sat there, looking at candle flames and taking in a deep breath of Amy’s scent as I heard her answer the door. Hey, it was my door, wasn’t it? Shouldn’t I be the one answering it?

"Wil," I heard her say, "what are you doing her?"

"It’s Rack, he wants us . . . now!"

"Oh, um, hang on."

Amy’s footsteps grew louder until she was standing beside me as I sat cross legged in amidst candles and drawings.

"Um, Billy," she said looking a bit put out I thought, "I’ve got to go out for a while. Mind just keeping the candles lit? I should be back pretty soon."

"Sure," I heard myself reply, "no problem."

More footsteps, the door banging shut and I’m sitting in my bedroom looking at candles I didn’t even know I owned.


The End.

Until next Sunday . . .

Sunday, August 12, 2012

one of two fiction snippets

Today’s post will be the first of two short snippets of writing I orated last night at our reading night gathering. The second will appear tomorrow - Bonus?!

These shorts are what they are - created purely for entertainment - today’s selection does contain some profane words . . . and probe references . . . you have been warned.


Fiction Snippet One:
by Paul Darcy

There was a moth banging into the window most of the night. At least, that’s what it appeared to be. Now, after regressive hypnosis, I know this to be untrue.

You see, what I thought was a moth was in fact, them. The Grays. Evil little bastards from another dimension using mind control and anal probes with abandon. Well, I’ve got their number now and tonight when they come calling they are in for a surprise. I’ve hired Morley Fenn, private eye and world savior. He’s camping out in my room right now with his infrared gear and shock sticks. Ha, are those little Gray bastards going to get a jolt when they try their mojo on my sleeping form.

Of course, what if they don’t come tonight? I never thought of that until just now. Well, I’ll cross that bridge when it comes.

Suddenly there is a flash of light from outside my window.

What was that?

I wait for the rumble of thunder, but nothing. The silence continues, and even Morley makes not a sound. Maybe I imagined it. But, Morley assured me, they are real and I’m not going insane. Of course his reputation as a nutcase does not reassure me that he is correct, but I know what I’ve experienced the past few months. My butt still hurts when I go to the bathroom. I was not imagining the probing.

My last conscious thought is looking at the clock on my bedside table. Ten minutes to three in morning. It’s always three in the morning when they come, at least that’s what I recall. I’ll just stay awake another ten minutes and then . . . and then . . .

Suddenly I’m wide awake and looking into that little round gray egg head with wrap around eyes. Inside my mind I hear it telling me not to panic. Not panic - Are you fucking kidding me!

I’m paralyzed, unable to move. The little bastard has put the whammy on my and I’m powerless to move, talk. Shit, where is Morley! Did they incapacitate him as well? It leans over me, smelling of compost. I imagine that little slit of a mouth opening, giving me a french kiss. I want to scream, reach out and punch its lights out, but I can’t.

The little gray bastard is shrinking, then I realize that what is really happening is I’m starting to float. It’s pointing some wand or stick or something at me and I notice now another one on the other side of my bed. Just as suddenly as I’m starting to move across the bed I fall the few inches back onto the covers and I can move, think again.

I hear a voice yell across my room, "Okay punks, go ahead, make my night!"

Morley is here, and it’s payback time.

I jump up from my bed and am standing beside the little gray with the stick. I’m half asleep but my punch still lands with a sickening meaty smack. The gray goes down, its stick like body collapsing like a house of sticks . . . hey, I’m half asleep here.

The last thing I recall is Morley pointing something at the other gray, there is a bright flash of light, then nothing.

The End.

Until tomorrow when you get snippet number two . . .

Sunday, August 05, 2012

mid summer melt

Summer is just whizzing by . . . sort of.

We got a real dose of its cruelty yesterday with the temperatures approaching that of our sun’s chromosphere, and the humidity of a tropical rain forest to boot. Still, a whole bunch of loonies were out mowing their lawns . . . um, yeah.

I stayed in, watched a couple Buffy episodes with my daughter, did some quality reading and ate a popsicle, or two.

I’ve barely scraped past the 60 books read mark and need to pick up the pace a bit if I want to achieve my goal of 84 by year’s end.

I also created a few more cards for my board game. Woohoo for me - I passed the half way mark of the 100 I want to make.

And as you can tell the heat and humidity have adversely affected my grey matter . . . sorry about that.

I did manage a few days ago to load Skype on my machine though so now I can keep in contact with my family more easily . . . and cheaply.

And others out there that feel the urge to contact me via video/audio link now have the opportunity. Just search for Paul Darcy, same picture as here.

Stalkers need not apply though, or serial killers, rapists, spammers . . . the list could go on and on, but I’ll change the subject instead.


Been playing quite well the last two weeks. Even winning twice out of three times and coming a close second the third . . .

But my body is protesting the punishment. It gets no better with age - so say my elder counterparts in the club. Orthotic inserts, pain killers, physio, no fries or cheeseburgers beforehand . . . I can hardly wait!

Still loads of fun even though I’ve really tried to tone down my game from young guy eager to old guy relaxed.

Well today, with all the pending thunderstorms brewing, I may have to dive into a big board game with my daughter and maybe even convince my wife to play as well.

Until next Sunday . . .