So, I'm getting a piece of paper tomorrow.

... So there I was, standing in front of the urinal having a pee, beer in one hand and you-know-what in the other, when my phone rings with that REALLY important call I'd been expecting. Luckily the friendly man next to me in the urinal held my penis while I finished urinating so I could take the call. Things were going swimmingly until I became aroused.

• 10. I am REALLY bad at picking ages. I usually undershoot the ages of various people, assuming they're younger then they are. This has resulted in me getting to brag to my Uni friends about my youth. Suck on that.

And on that piece of paper will be the summary of the past sixteen and a half years of my life. That piece of paper will say:

BACHELOR OF SOCIAL SCIENCE DEGREE - MACQUARIE UNIVERSITY

STEPHEN RICHARD B.SOCSCI

THIS CERTIFICATE CERTIFIES THAT STEPHEN RICHARD HAS SATISFACTORILY COMPLETED HIS BACHELOR OF SOCIAL SCIENCE.

That piece of paper is going to be, up until this point (hoping I get into Honours) the summary of my education from Primary school, High school and University. I'm going to be up on stage for ten seconds, handed an award while wearing a dorky outfit in front of my parents and grandmother, then sit down once more. In all honesty I'd prefer to get the award mailed to me (less chance of me tripping on the robe and inadvertantly crash tackling the vice chancellor. Although that WOULD be a story to tell) but this moment means alot to my 'guests'.

So. I doubt anyone who reads this blog is interested in the above, I just needed to get it out.

I'm shitting myself about tomorrow. The moment I come home I'll be an official graduate. FUCK ME.

P.S. Someone pressured me into going onto facebook. My e-peen feels inadequate since I haven't added anyone other then Alison (the preassurer, which shall be her official title from now on) to my list, while she has 250 or so friends.

My friends list is the laughing stock of the cheerleaders.

P.P.S. My 'guests' would be an awesome piece of slang to refer to testicles.

Say cheese!

... All I could think to say was "I just shat myself", to which Mr William Shatner took umbrage, but apparently it was the password, so I was allowed into the treehouse.

I have no idea where I'm going with life. Currently I have two distinct possibilities in front of me.

1. Get into Honours. This requires a class act of Blarney-stoning in which I convince the Honours convener that I was a victim of the Bellcurve and deserve to get in. Then it involves doing serious research about the nature of internet society, possibly cyber crime so that, worst comes to worst, I can get a reasonable job eventually with some cyber-protection group working for 'the man' or some crap.

The major problem is I just KNOW I'll bollocks up the research somehow. The fact of the matter is I'm genuinely not really an academic person. I can't quote anyone outside of popular culture, I have trouble remembering the theories of particular MAJOR theorists within Sociology (and everything else) despite having studied it for THREE AND A HALF YEARS.

2. Say 'bollocks to Honours' and apply for a diploma in Screenwriting. I've been doing research into the AFTRS Diploma in screenwriting, and already put stage 1 of a 3-stage application in. I do want to try and get into Screenwriting, even if I'm stuck in a boring drama series or something.

A problem with this is as the Diploma is part time, I won't qualify for Vet-Affairs support, so I'll have to (shock horror) get a job. Probably the main problem, however, is that I just KNOW it'll be full of arty wanky people.

"And what does this fight scene between the two protagonists say? Does it imply the inherent instability of relationships within civilised society?"
"Well, no, more just they think the other is a Russian spy."

Sometimes a cool fight scene between a cybernetically enhanced Ninja and a magical Samurai is just a fucking cool fight scene, and not an allegory for the inherent opposition within society between rationality and mysticism.


In the end I'll probably apply for both, and to be perfectly honest take the Screenwriting diploma if they accept me (which I'll find out before the Honours thing)

Ideally though, the comic I'm currently trying to write at the moment (80% through the 'overall' part of the proposal, with 10,000 words down, and finished the script for a first issue at 5,000 words. I plan on writing scripts for issue 2 and 3 to give them an idea of where it will go after the overall series introduction) will be sold to Dark Horse, they'll give me wads of cash I can use to buy a Stormtrooper suit, exercise equipment, masses of alcohol, and potentially a hooker or two (cocaine not included, unfortunately). And maybe if there's some left over I'll do things like 'plan for the future'.

P.S. On an unrelated note: http://www.philosophersnet.com/games Go, play, be merry. My pseudo belief in the Force actually did pretty well in the God-battleground. Second highest honour. Only trouble it had was one of semantics, in which it thought the inherently man-made nature of the force could condemn a serial rapist.

Comic book writer?

.. So anyway, moral of the story is that head really ISN'T as fun when she has a mouthful of beer. Next week I'll try it with tequilla.

Just a short post today of actual real-life stuff. Sorry, all two of my readers (there are literally TWO of you. I installed google analytic a day ago. Two readers)

I want to be a writer. Basically I can't really imagine myself enjoying ANY other job. Perhaps professional alcohol taster, but I'd always want to swallow (THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID. Shut up, juvenile Steve), which would ruin my health.

I'm halfway through draft 2 of my screenplay, and completely stalled. So a friend recommended I try writing it as a comic book. Hey, why not! Sounds like a good idea. Thing is, I know from trying to write screenplays that the first one is always shit. So, I used the story I've got in mind for my RP campaign and I'm writing it as a comic book script.

God damnit this is fun.

You have no idea

I get to just DIVE in to this fantasy world, and drag readers along with it. I don't know why, this just feels so... fun!

So far I've killed five superheroes. Here's a taste.



Panel 2: Page width panel showing Magic Bullet once more set up to fire, the ruins of the explosion that occurred behind him still there. His sniper rifle is firing at something off panel.

MAGIC BULLET:
Bang.

Panel 3: Return to the previous view from the News helicopter above. Now the view shows Bladesman’s sword cutting through some exposed wires on Onager’s back, but Blinker suddenly drops, a splash of blood visible coming out of one side of her head.

REPORTER (OP)
B- Blinker is down! I repeat, Blinker is down! O- Oh my god, Blinker is down!

PAGE TWELVE (Six panels)

Panel 1: Relatively close up view of Bladesman, shock on his face.

BLADESMAN
NO! Jenn!

Panel 2: Bladesman landing next to Blinker’s still body.

Panel 3: View from behind of Bladesman crouching down, cradling Blinker’s still body to his chest.

Panel 4: Same view as Panel 3, but now with a large looming shadow blocking a lot of the light to them.

Panel 5: View from the front of Bladesman holding Blinker close, tears in his eyes. Behind him Onager holds his right arm up, the railgun in his armoured suit aimed at Bladesman’s back.

ONAGER
It’ll be quick.

Panel 6: Close up shot of Onager’s arm firing.

So, hey, I'm a graduate now

It's official. I have successfully completed my Bachelor of Social Science.

I now have three options.

1. Get a job in a field I doubt I will enjoy.
2. Get a job to tie me over until Honours next year, so I can potentially get a better job, in a field I doubt I will enjoy.
3. Misc.

Currently 'Misc' looks attractive. I think I'll aim for Honours next year anyway, just to delay the inevitable, but between the end of next year (honours finishing) and now, I hope to finish the script I currently have draft 1 down of, and hopefully be started on at least one more.

Ahh, the joys of niavity. The thought I can just write a script, on spec, send it in to Hollywood and be credited as the scriptwriter for a multi-million dollar extravoganza.

The thing is, in the back of my mind I have very little doubt it'll happen. All my life I've been able to coast by with a minimum of work. The most work I EVER put in was for the HSC, and even then it was only a couple of hours a day. I got into the High school I wanted by dint that my brother was already in.

From there, I found out about a it, and with my ability to talk bullshit, I was able to get a 'scholarship' for the Uni that gave me an extra 5 UAI points.

Since my brother knows the tricks of the trade, he told me how to sneak through a backway into the degree I want (apply for a degree with a lower UAI, and transfer once I'm already in).

Those two tricks combined were all that got me into Uni. From there I've done shit all work and been a solid 'pass' the entire time, slightly leaning up into credits at times. The worst bit? If you added TWO marks to my entire 200 level and above University career, I would be solid credits. To me that screams 'bell curve scaling'. I have done next to no work my whole life, and I've been one step away from credits.

Story of my life. Next to no work, have it all handed to me. I know the moment I step into the real world, it'll all be different. Dog eat dog eat wimp, all that sort of shit. But in the back of my head I'm so used to it all being just... HANDED to me that I fully expect to send my script off to hollywood, get a phone call a few weeks later, and be asked to fly down to write them a few more scripts they can buy the options of from me.

I'm in for a rude fishing shock.