My thyroid is failing to produce hormone, again. I noticed the dip in my metabolism in October, and gaining 10 pounds in November prompted me to return to the Doctor. Good times. Spouse’s company party went off without a hitch. I got shitfaced on Chardonnay, but the spouse said I was cool, and didn’t embarrass him, or myself. That’s always for the best.
Shudder added a bunch of new movies, including Rob Zombie’s 31. I’m a fan of Zombie as a director, and even though the Witches of Salem would’ve rocked if it were as good as the novelization (more about the witches of old, and less about Heidi Hawthorne), I still dug it. Doom Head is a character that will stay with you, much in the same way that Otis Driftwood stays with you. Some of Rob Zombie’s best “kill your complacency” messages come from Doom Head, a mentally ill character whose mania is controlled with more discipline than Otis Driftwood was capable of. Unlike House of 1000 Corpses, Rob Zombie gets you to like the carny-victims in 31. No matter how relatable-gory the bad guys were (Only Sick-Head and Doom Head were up to the challenge–the others felt like Running Man rejects) the trio of aging-Anglo organizers of the violence, disturbed me most. Doom Head without his makeup is clearly a man to avoid, but when the trio of wealthy murder-hounds took their makeup off at the end, and went back to their lives as functional members of society, that was terrifying. You’d never know the carnage they bought, bet on, and paid for, because they look like the typical baby-boomers that you hate, for other reasons. I did feel robbed at the end though, because I wanted to see how Sherry was going to get out of her face to face with Doom Head!
As for Walking Dead, the mid-season finale is on tonight, and I really need Michonne to stop being stupid. She’s the sensible one, I need a sensible Michonne.
On the social-media front, I found a folder on my hard drive, loaded with Skeletor Memes. I’ve been starting my day with them on Twitter, before tweeting the shit out of cool articles I find on the net, whilst at work, waiting for my showrunners words to load, so I can turn them into scripted copy.
Afternoons, I’ve been editing the hell out of the series-bible for Femitokon, giving myself some much-needed space from the Suffocation manuscript. I found myself editing the same chapters over again, and adding new material–which means I need to proof/copy/destroy all over again.
Stepping away, need my mind and my eyes, fresh.