Archive for October 15th, 2012


Well, I thought I’d have more to tell you about my semi-planned scavenger hunt, but my leg and hip kinda killed off any chance of me getting out this weekend and DOING something – like say, hiking off in search of artifacts.

See, since late August my left hip and leg have been off and on kinda painful.  Maybe this isn’t surprising, since I do Layla stuff like fencing, working out, and occasionally basic parkour.  But something really felt jacked, and even my chiropractor told me I should probably see an orthopod (that’s a doctor, though the word sounds like a prehistoric crustacean), or a physical therapist.  I opted for the therapist, and since seeing one my leg and hip have been better.  But yesterday and today weren’t such good days.

But now I’m hopeful that a cure is on the way.  This is because I may have discovered a big reason for the joint and tendon pain and other (really weird) symptoms.  It gets into a specific nutritional deficiency, and after doing a fair amount of research I’ve started a supplement and diet change that has already caused a couple symptoms to vanish.  It’s also possible that this deficiency is a major reason behind the pain.  A few more days of supplementation and diet changes, and I should know for sure.

I can’t tell you what a relief this is.

Anyway, since I had nothing exciting to tell you this week, it seemed that the least I could do was to leave you with one of my humble, crappy, literary poems.  Hope you enjoy today’s effort.

When writing a fictional story
It’s alright to be Stephen King gory.
You can slash zombies dead,
Shoot ghouls full of lead,
And end up in best-selling glory.

You can scribble ’bout love and addictions
When writing great pieces of fictions.
You can sparkle a vampire,
George R. Martin an empire,
Or cast paranormal afflictions.

A writer may weave a deep mystery
Or whip up romance hot and blistery,
She might rip a tight bodice,
He might Grisham a codice,
Or pen fifty shades of porn history.

No genres or rules are required
When you write what you truly desired.
Your book is your own
In its heart, flesh and bone,
And it leaves your readers inspired.