Inhuman Swill : Page 205
Why is my blog called Inhuman Swill? Because you can unscramble the pieces to make William Shunn.

Boing boing!

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Hey, Cory just blogged, with a really nice little accompanying blurb:
Thanks, Cory!
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Way behind!

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Man, except for the subway story, I haven't written a substantive journal entry here for a while. All these things keep happening, and I keep wanting to write about them, but then other things come up. It just goes to show that, no matter my best intentions to get to it eventually, if I don't write about an event right away, it never gets written about.

So here is a quick rundown of all the recent things I wanted to write about but didn't:

  • The BBC documentary crew who interviewed me for television here at our place.
  • My dad's trip all over Eastern Europe.
  • Laura's new job.
  • The splendid Thanksgiving we had with Shana and Margee and Emmy and Liz and Cory.
  • The part-time work I just got, temporarily, at Sesame Street.
  • The fire that destroyed a ramshackle garage five doors down from here.
  • The postcard we got from our friend Scott on a trip in China.
  • How much we both loved Ocean's 11, and how much we both liked but didn't love Harry Potter.
  • The entire actual novel I just received from a friend in the body of an email message. (Too cool!)
  • The eeriness of visiting downtown Manhattan at night, with that gaping hole in the skyline.
There's more stuff that I'm sure I'm forgetting—and writing news too, although for that you'll have to visit [info]missionaryman.

The thing is, we took pictures of the fire and everything, and I hate to let them go to waste. So here are some pix of the garage burning down the street from us:

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Knives out

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So last night was a momentous occasion for me. I saw my first knife pulled on the subway. (My friend Don used to pull his knife sometimes when we'd been drinking heavily, but that was rather a quality of experience.)

I got on the N at 8th Street, Queens-bound. Across from me were three obnoxious louts in their mid-twenties or so. They were being very loud and rude, and a dirty-blonde 40ish women nearby got fed up and plowed into a shouting match with them. There was a lot of "Bitch" and "Fuck you" and "Suck my dick" and "You don't have one" and "Fucking dyke" and "Is that the worst thing you can say?" thrown back and forth, and then it started to get ugly, like the combatants were going to jump to their feet and grapple.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, this stocky, bullish, dark-haired women racing over from the far end of the car, and she tells the louts, "You're getting off this train at the next stop." So the head lout gets up in her face and says, "Oh, yeah?" and the women repeats herself, and the guy says, "You gonna make me?" and she says, "Yeah, I am. You're getting off the fucking train," and then the two of them are pushing at each other and that's when I realize that the woman has a knife out and that's how she's proposing to eject these losers from the train.

And, well, that's about all I know. The train pulled into 23rd Street then, and the tussle spilled partway onto the platform, and someone went running to tell the conductor to call the police, but I didn't see much else because I have an extreme allergy to cutlery. I waited down at the far end of the train for things to get moving again, while other people hung out the doors trying to see what was going on.

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Quiz kids

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I'm so hooked on these damn quizzes lately, I think our friend [info]missionaryman is going to have to write a Mormon Missionary Personality Test sometime soon . . .

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That's REALLY more like it!

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Sadly, though, the JavaScript that runs the test is poorly written. It only works in Internet Exploiter, not in Nutscape!

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Okay, now that's more like it

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If I was a work of art, I would be Piet Mondrian's Composition A.

I am rigidly organised and regimented, although my cold and unapproachable exterior hides a clever way of thinking and a rebellious and innovative nature. A lot of people don't understand me, but I can still affect them on an emotional level.

Which work of art would you be? The Art Test

A little close to home, but unarguable for all that.

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God, I've got to get out more

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Honor Blackman as Pussy Galore

If I was a James Bond villain, I would be Pussy Galore.

I enjoy flying, a good roll in the hay, and nerve gassing army bases.

I am played by Honor Blackman in Goldfinger.

Who would you be? James Bond Villain Personality Test.

I suppose I must embrace my inner Pussy. (Are you trying to kill me, Goldschlager?)

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How British am I?

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More bloody British than a Yank has a right to be, I'll wager . . .

I am 25% British.

Take the Brit Quiz at

Quiz written by Daz [info]daz71

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Say hello to Missionary Man

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As part of a perhaps doomed master plan to generate alternative avenues of interest in my book, I've started a separate journal for detailing the process of marketing and selling Missionary Man.

So say hello to [info]missionaryman. If you're a friend of mine, I hope you'll become a friend of his too.

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The Accidental Terrorist 30th Anniversary Sale

Signed editions
that even a
could afford.

Order yours now!

William Shunn