How did Sonny Chiba make it look so damn easy?

Last night was my 20th Shaolin Kung Fu lesson. I think I have the basic stances and punches just about right, although I still crawl down the stairs in a sweaty, limp heap after each lesson.

We did some practice kicks, beginning with front and side kicks and progressing to the infamous roundhouse kick. This is the one where you swing yourself around and effortly take out your opponent's teeth with your foot. That is, if you're Bruce Lee or Sonny Chiba or Jet Li or Cynthia Rothrock.

If you're a mere mortal, especially a 40ish chick with a few extra pounds, you can probably do a passable roundhouse kick after you spend about six months practicing. I was having a bad time simply keeping my balance and getting my foot about waist level. Shaw Brothers will not be calling me any time soon.

Remind me to fire my junior writer

Someone just wandered up to me and said "Hey, did you see the other writer's Out of Office message?"

Of course I hadn't, he sits next to me and I know he's not there.

But I decided to send a message just to see the Out of Office message - here it is, with my real name censored:

Ooooooooh Deeeee-NIED!

I am OUT OF THE OFFICE! (How "far out" you may never truly ken)

But, as you read this, I am in Tennessee looking for the birthplace of the Peanut butter, Bacon and Banana Sandwich, and pitching creative so hard the blood has likely gathered dangerously in my hands.

BUT HEY! Not to worry... I will be back like J-Lo soon.

For all your immediate "copy-suggesting" needs, consult with Wordslinger Melina "Letters" Flaherty - aka Melina Reilly - aka Melina Reilly-Lawrence - aka "Stands with a Comma" (Her Lakota name).

I'll return to serve all your usual Philistine copy needs after the time continuum interval between sensation and perception (or between indefinite and definite perception and apperception) has reached a measure represented by the value: Wenesday March 14th.

For further information, solve: g'[(x,g)]=(x,gg'-1)

Bien Agiter!

(Anyone know what that last line means?)

I'm really overthinking this blog crap too much

For the last few days, I've been considering starting yet another blog - which would bring me up to three. The reason for this is that I don't plan to enter any more writing competitions (and if I do, I doubt I will inflict my draft chapters on the blog-reading public). Instead I'd like to post about what interests me on a daily basis. This includes my martial arts classes, copywriting, Asian cinema, Grand Theft Auto/Playstation, renovating my bungalow, and the other usual nonsense that most bloggers ramble on about.

But instead of setting up another one, I thought I'd just keep on with this one. By the looks of my Site Meter weekly report, people still visit here an awful lot to read parts of Twilight Express. And some visit my older blog and then nip over here. Yes, this does suggest that some of us have too much time on our hands, but one needs a bit of time-wasting now and again to de-stress.

Today, almost all of my department has gone up to another corporate office to present our latest branding ideas, but I begged off as I thought it was a big waste of time. Instead, I sent my "junior" writer, who I hate calling junior as he's only three years younger than me. But he can really stand up in front of others and bullshit brilliantly. He was the man for the job, not me. I sometimes have this embarrassing stammer when nervous, which some men find "cute" - this perception has always mystified me. Why on earth would a speech impediment - which I never had until I came down with meningitis in my 20s - be cute?

What's up with Ann Coulter?

Okay, I admit it: I can't stand the bitch. She's just so incredibly mean-spirited. Her karma must really stink.

However, I have yet to figure out her motives for what she writes and says. Here are my guesses:

1. She's certifiable, aka crazier than a shithouse rat.
2. She's a fanatical attention getter who will do anything to get attention.
3. She's trying to sell a lot of books.

Cast your vote in Comments if you dare!

I'm a loser and I don't care

I had actually forgotten all about the contest that was the reason I began writing Twilight Express last year. The results were finally announced (I got an e-mail about it) and no, I wasn't one of the winners. Seems my entry was "well-written, but without enough sex scenes". But one of the winning stories was called Samantha White and the Seven Dwarfs, so perhaps I was a bit highbrow.

However, I managed to derive a certain amount of cerebral pleasure from writing the story. As my Keirsey profile says, we idealist/counselors enjoy unusually rich inner lives.

(I never cease to be amazed by the accuracy of the Keirsey personalities - and remember, I'm the one who thinks psychotherapy is an indulgent waste of time.)