327 – Sorry!

327

First up! Exciting news around here… Book Two, Glandiri’s Gold is out and available for purchase! It contains the whole of the Terror Island storyline, which runs from page 116 (the end of book one) to page 272. Also, as an added bonus, there is Enkidu’s interview with Playmob Magazine!

As if that weren’t enough, we also have three new character shirts available… Fleece, Freya, and Enkidu: God of All Orcs! Go buy one right now!

Now that the shilling is done, we can talk about important stuff. Lena and my sister wanted me to talk about my project to rewrite the bible, but I think god has gotten more than enough attention around here recently.

Instead I want to talk about birthdays. Namely, mine.

Friday the 12th will be my forty-first birthday. As much as I try to understand this, I just can’t make it mean anything to me. I know I’m older, I know death is closer, but it’s kinda hard to get all that worked up over it. Not that I don’t enjoy birthday parties, that rocks, but my life now is so much better and more fulfilling and just plain happier than it was when I was a kid that it’s really hard to want to go backward.

Perhaps it’s because we never had kids. Lena decided she didn’t want them during a life-sciences class in college. Can’t say I blame her. For me it was a sociology class that tracked the “happiness” of typical American couples. There was a chart and everything.

In the beginning, before marriage, the couples were near the top of the chart. Once married, they plummeted to the bottom. Slowly they began working their way back up, year by year… until the baby was born. Then wham! Back to the bottom, where it stayed for the next eighteen years. Finally it began creeping up again, slow at first then faster and faster, pretty much until death. Also, I know that I am too selfish for kids. Can you even imagine how crazed you would get to find that your kid had gotten into your WoW account and sold all your leet armor for a pretty hat? I figure that by skipping the kids I also skipped that eighteen years of stress and heartache, ending with the inevitable betrayal of some ungrateful kid that wants to stick you in an old-folks home. To hell with that, kid! I’ll fix you! You’re never even gonna be born!

I know the arguments: “If your parents thought that way, where would you be now?” Of course you could ask the same question about every member of the opposite sex you meet… hey babe, if I don’t get you with child here in the parking lot of the Safeway, you’ll be murdering our unborn children. You look pretty fine in those curlers.

“You must procreate, it’s god’s plan.” Anyone consider that god should have been thoughtful enough to take me into account? An omniscient being should have a Plan B.

”You’ll never know the true depths of joy that bringing a child into the world can mean. It completes you as a person.” Okay, tossing the chart aside, let me say here that if I had made this big a mistake, I would be desperately looking for meaning in it too. Also, as an evil joke, I would be trying to recruit as many people as I could into my little club of misery. So forget it! I’m on to you!

”But I want grandbabies!” Get a cat.

This year, I and a bunch o’ me mates are going to the new sushi place up the street (oh lord it’s good) and are then retiring to the house for beer and cake. I love cake. Lena’s making me a pound cake, it’s my favorite kind.

And I’m not sharing with any damn kids!

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