Neu Fred to the Cult
Hmmm... Apparently my old account no longer works after a long hiatus. So here goes number two.
I stumbled across the The Cult I don’t recall how long ago, purchased the DVD and a ‘The Cult’ t-shirt which I have dreaded wearing ever since the first of many, ‘Oh, I love the Cult too! I saw them live back in ….” comments. Yeah, Firewoman is a great song.
Anyway, I’ve been a corporate whore for the past decade, selling what’s left of my soul to the Devil, Inc. In some futile attempt to save what’s left of my sanity I’m giving all the glitz and glamour of sitting in a cubicle and listening to men in ties ramble on for hours and hours about nothing, I’m giving it all up at the end of September for a life of poverty and yes… freedom.
In the interim I’ve signed up for a number of courses at the recently discovered Community Writing Center, which is within walking distance from my modest dwelling downtown, and am stoked at my workshop: Micro Fiction, which starts this Thursday. Once I ratchet down from my McJob I plan on joining the Writers Workshop and hopefully wreak some havoc there.
I moved out to Utard when I was a little kid via Pittsburgh/NC/Chicago as Daddy Warbucks worked his way up the corporate ladder. Not being Mormon, it’s an extremely surreal place to live. Which I’ve come to find out lends one a vast array of interesting and bizarre characters, ideas and occurrences. Having said that, and living north of Pittsburgh on the edge of Amish country, I relate most to Survivor than any of Chuck’s book. However, being a huge fan of Edward Abby and living in the backyard of The Monkey Wrench Gang, I appreciate the social angst of Fight Club.
Last One Dead Is A Sissy