National Novel Writing Month: the Growing Insanity

I just wrote seven thousand words in 4 1/2 hours.

Some gems include:

“We’re all pirates. And we all call ourselves the good guys.”
*
Then my mind went dark, and slowly pictures began to surface in my mind’s eye, like fish swimming to the top of a pond—weird, grotesquely clored fish.
*
He put his hand on the knob again. As I stared, it glowed red, then melted into smoldering, smoking liquid, flowing through his fingers like mercury. It fell towards the floor, but vanished before it could burn the antique wood.
*
The room was stuffy and smelled like abandonment.
*
the little lavender slut boy think like he used to have befor ehe got married and stupid?
*
(Well, iv’e written about three hindred words in threeminutes, which is obvs a hundred words a minute. And look at the remarkable job I have done of it so far. I would be a lovely secretary. She’s pretty, but can she type? No, absolutely not.)

***

That’s right, folks. I am currently triple-fisting Goldschlager, sweet tea, and a Starbucks Doubleshot espresso drink. And I have come dangerlulzy close to setting my hair on fire twice tonight.

Here’s a random photo of Kiss, just to be safe:

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