More Random Shit

So this’ll be my second post this month.  I’M A WRITING MACHINE!  Things at work have been busier than normal but that’s hardly the reason I’ve been absent.  Really, that boils down to two things:  Burnout and change.

The Public Option post I wrote last month is easily the most overwritten thing I’ve ever published on this site the web.  I wrote that thing four or five times before it started to look anything like it’s final form, and once that had been achieved, there was still a fuck-ton of revision to be done.  And all of that because I really didn’t want it to regress into the childish, irrational anger that makes me so adorable (I still came close, though.), which is funny since that was the one and only reason I started this site in the first place.  This health care thing is easily the most passionate I’ve ever been about any political issue.  And, again, it shouldn’t be a political issue.  And, I have to say, the Republicans are doing an amazing job of making me hate them, but the sad truth is that the Democrats are filled with soulless, corrupt whores as well.  Honestly, at this point, I’m expecting a “solution” that will wind up fucking over people in my position even worse than we already have it, with everyone in congress congratulating themselves on a job well done while the insurance corporations enjoy yet another quiet victory.  I really hope I’m wrong about that.  Fuck it, I’d give up a month’s salary to be wrong about that.  But the point is, writing that thing was actually sort of draining (what a fucking pussy) and it was a few weeks before the urge to write anything came back.

And when it did come back, I really wanted to do something different.  Not radically different, but different.  I’ll spare you the ponderous details of my thought process but I wound up deciding to write a fictionalized account of the sad joke that has become my professional life over the last three years, serialized weekly on an ongoing basis.  The plan is to keep the posts fairly short at about the 1000 word range, so that I can a) realistically keep my weekly deadline, and b) hopefully not bore the shit out of anyone.  So far, I’ve got what amounts to a decent first post.  I have to admit, however, that this is surprisingly difficult for me.  I can knock out a college paper in a few hours (have done, more times than I can count), and I can knock out an average bit of bloggery in no time at all, revising as I write.  But writing something with a specific structure?  With dialogue?  That doesn’t come at all natural to me.  Which is probably good.

Also, from day one, I never wanted this site to be a political blog.  Political blogs almost always suck devil cock.  But if you look at the last six months worth of content, the vast majority is political.  And, honestly, most of the best stuff, in my highly biased opinion, isn’t.  So it’s time for me to try something a little different uncomfortable.

I’ve decided to call the story “Adventures In Spank Land” because, well, I work at a dildo factory.  The category description, which you won’t ever see unless you click on the category over to the right (which won’t be visible until tomorrow) is as follows:

“Adventures In Spank Land” is a series of fictionalized stories of my time spent working in the sex biz.  I decided not to make this purely autobiographical for the purpose of avoiding litigation should the wrong people come across it.  Given that some of the people featured in these stories may not want to advertise the fact that they work – or worked – in the adult entertainment industry, and all the shit-talking that’s going to be happening, I feel obligated to preserve the anonymity of the people I work with and/or for.  In light of this, I’ve changed not only people’s names, but also various company names as well as the names of specific items manufactured by my employer.  You may now admire my sensitivity and graciousness.

So there you go.  The first installment should go live sometime tomorrow morning, and then regularly every Friday after that until I fuck it up somehow.  And the rest of my usual verbal masturbation will still show up whenever I have a random thought I absolutely Must Share.

Off to photograph butt plugs now…


Tim Hatch lives in a secret volcano headquarters somewhere in the South Pacific, where he controls the world economy and writes confessional poetry about his disappointing childhood.

His poetry has been published in MungBeing, East Jasmine Review, The Pacific Review, The Vehicle, Touch: The Journal Of Healing, Apeiron Review, and he is the recipient of the 2014 Felix Valdez Award.

He finds writing about himself in the third person to be an overtly seductive invitation to tell lies.

He once captured a French Eagle at Talavera.

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