Lablogs asks:

1) What sort of earthquake preparations do most people have?

It varies by level of paranoia, ranging from “nothing” to “I’m moving to Kansas tomorrow.” Little known fact, though: Kansas has earthquakes too. Oopsie.

2) Have you ever lived though a big quake?

Yes. And I think phrasing it as “lived through” reveals an element of fear on the part of the questioner.

3) Which ones?

The Northridge Earthquake in 1994. Our house was about four miles from the epicenter. It was quite a ride — I remember being bounced out of bed in complete darkness and stumbling across the heaving floor like a drunk, over to the bedroom doorway where I had to brace myself to keep from being thrown down, and yelling at Beth to get out of bed and come get in the doorway with me where it was safe. She rode it out where she was — nothing gets Beth out of bed, not even a big-ass earthquake.

4) Does anybody really have earthquake insurance?

Yes. That’s why you’ve heard of it.

5) Do you?

Yes, and it was a good thing we did in 1994. We had to make major repairs that we couldn’t have afforded without it.

6) How bad would things have to get for my apartment to come crashing into
the ground?

It depends on the apartment building, but click on the Northridge Earthquake link above for an example. If you’ll recall, an apartment building did come crashing down, killing 16 residents. Maybe you should move to Kansas. Or… maybe not.

7) If I don’t anchor the bookcases to the wall, are they really going to
fall over and kill me in my sleep?

Only if you A) sleep under them and B) store anvils on them.

8) Are you fearful, anticipating, or indifferent to coming quakes?

Indifferent, edging toward anticipating. They’re kind of fun when nobody gets hurt and there’s no significant damage. Dirt surfing, woo hoo!

God, I love the internet.

The heater on our central air is out (again! — it seems like it goes out every other year), so I had a repairman come out today. You know how these guys are (or maybe you don’t): they’re crooks, always looking to shoot an angle on you. He poked around for a few minutes, then came inside and announced: “It needs a new circuit board. That’s a $500 part.”

Yeah, $500. For a circuit board. I don’t think so.

So I thanked him for coming out, told him there was no way in hell we were spending $500 on a unit we put in just a few years ago, and sent him on his way. Then I came inside, sat down at my computer, and plugged the part number into Google. $98. So I’ll buy it online, pick up a six-pack at the local 7-11, and one of Beth’s engineers from work will come out and install it for me.

$500 part my ass. I’ve got a $500 computer in here with a high speed connection that’ll bitchslap you out of business every time.

I have a challenge for my conservative mouth-breathing brethren who are planning to vote for W on November 2nd. I want you to go take the Patriot Pledge and sign up for everything you’re voting for. If you’re going to talk the talk, then you’d damn well better walk the walk.

This hag is what passes for “hot” in conservative circles; she’s the most attractive arrow in the Viagra-assisted Republican quiver. A couple of guys tried (and, sadly, failed) to pie her in the face at a ranting speaking engagement yesterday. Unsheathing her rapier wit, she retorted, “From that far away they can’t even hit me?” Oooh, good one, Ann!

Considering the way they drool over this haggard, spindly Q-tip, is it any wonder the Right thinks the Boy King is the nuts? Clearly, they have no judgement, no taste. Which is reason # 525,429 why W must go.

And speaking of W’s impending unemployment, don’t let the completely baffling polls showing that W is inching back into the lead again get you down. Employ the power of positive thinking.

Look, my special purpose has a name!

And that’s when I use my full name in the generator. When I use just “Chuck” I come up with Captain Kirk. That’s almost better. I could call it Tiberius for short. If, you know, guys ever used the word “short” when describing their units.

So what does a wannabe writer do when he finds himself unemployed? I mean after he plays online poker for a few days and watches Oprah with the blinds drawn and eats 6 pieces of peanut butter rye toast for lunch? That’s right, he fucks around on the interweb for a few days. After that, well, then he starts thinking about getting back to writing again.

He takes out all the old index cards for one of his pet screenplay ideas and dusts them off, starts brainstorming to fill out the story, starts making notes, starts trying to restart the old writing engine. And just when the engine turns over and starts idling again — roughly, but idling nonetheless — just then he casually Googles the title for this unique idea … and finds out that it’s currently in production for release next year. And fucking SNL’s Lorne Michaels is behind it. Which means, of course, that it’ll be a total steaming pile of crap that makes a gazillion dollars and if I continue with my script it will look like I copied the crap.

Crap. It’s all about timing — or as Steve Martin called it in an old bit, “Tie Ming” — and mine sucks. I know I have marketable ideas because other people keep making them. What I don’t have is the butt-glue necessary to beat them to it. This is the third screenplay idea of mine that someone else went ahead and made while I was twiddling my thumbs, and I can’t count how many sitcom story ideas of mine magically appeared on TV while I was index carding them. But, hey, you know what? Those other writers did it while all I did was dream. They’re the big winnas, I’m the big wanna. It’s on me.

So this week’s project: butt-glue. In copious amounts.

(But my Blade concept was good, dammit. And that’s all I’ll say about that.)