I light my torch and wave it for the Neon Boneyard Friday

No lie, I went to a random Cyberpunk name generator because I'm exploring fiction-writing tools, and the first name it spit was "Bug".

Wait, that's my name! Bug is "Cyberpunk"? I liked one of the other names better, "Frag". I can envision a short story with a bartender asking her feline-enhanced patron, "What kind of mother names her kid 'Frag'?" "The kind of mother named 'Clawhammer'; now pour my god damned tequila."

Then I went to a random color generator because I wanted to rename Black Friday something else: Neon Boneyard Friday.

That's the perfect name for it! Neon Boneyard Friday, sung to the tune of Duran Duran's New Moon on Monday, although you'll have to squish the syllables a bit. Say "Neon" as one syllable "Nyon". Like in Russian, they make all their vowels start with "y". Nyon Bone-yard Friday, and a firedance through the night,

I have vertigo again, that's my excuse. I'll have to do that anti-vertigo skull-rolling exercise to fix it again -- a tiny rock of calcium has broken off inside my ear, I'll have to roll it through the spiral liquid-filled chamber until it stops fooling my body into thinking gravity is forever broken. I'm waiting until daylight, sort of enjoying the natural high of my bed spinning around, the walls oscillating, me staggering as though pissed while slamming closet doors with defensive hands as I tumble toward the bathroom for my 2am pee. My urine spiraling through the night-lit air, I'm on the International Space Station, this is pee free fall.

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Neon Boneyard.

That's not just a color, that's a global status tag. That's the title of my next story. The story of Frag Clawhammer making her first planetfall on Vertiga, where she plans to commit genocide.

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If you want to write Cyberpunk, I recommend having vertigo. Give your protagonist vertigo. Make the entire damned planet vertiginous!

Shake up the picture, the lizard mixture
With your dance on the eventide

OK, enough, T is awake, I can do the spiral skull exercises now.  After I pee again.

Nyon Bonyerd, Vertega

This planet is more expensive than she'd expected, shit. Look at these draft beer prices!

And this Starhut bartender is pissing her off, looking skeptically at her Transtone Bank Mastercard, "What kind of mother names her kid 'Frag'?"

"The kind with the last name 'Clawhammer'. Are you going to serve me or not? There must be at least one other bar in this shithole town."

But then the card scanner made the good kind of beeping sound and the bartender backed down, "I'm sorry, Madam, please forgive me. Welcome to the Nyon Bonyerd Starhut. As a new customer, your first drink is 'on the house'!"

Frag decided to play this as gracious, she didn't know anybody on this planet yet, didn't want to start out with more enemies than friends. She retracted her claws, calmed her tail, formed her best feline smile, "Thank you, I appreciate your hospitality. Shot of your best tequila, please."

"Yes, Madam, that would be the Voidcloud Extra Añejo, coming right up!"

Frag had to lap at the liquid, her feline adaptations would never allow her to down a shot like she could back in school.  She tried not to spill any, but lapping from a shot glass ...

"Madam, I'm so sorry, let me get you a bowl for that."

"Thanks.  I should've said something.  Where I come from, feline adaptations are more common."

"No, Madam, I've been trained in the various offworld customer profiles, I just wasn't thinking.  Here."  The bartender poured the remainder of Frag's shot into a small, shallow bowl and topped it off with another half a shot.  Frag thought the bartender wasn't bad looking, now that she was receiving an acceptable level of service from the bitch.  Or bastard.  Or ... this one might be nonbinary, so hold the gendered curse words for now, let's go with "jerk".

"Thanks, again, ... um ... Killa."  Their Starhut tag read "Killa K.O." which sounded like a budding rap star's name back on Earth.

Frag tried to take in Killa's look, without appearing too nosy, but there weren't many other people in the bar, and she'd taken a stool at the counter, so ... but this attempt as not appearing too nosy caused her pupils to dilate widely.  Killa was dressed in a tacky Starhut uniform -- green nylon top, brown nylon pants, with a Starhut ballcap.  Sad.  But Killa looked fit and had a kind-looking face, despite their earlier skepticism.

Well, you don't come out as a Furry and undergo the full transition without having to put up with strangeness from strangers, especially while visiting a shithole town on a shithole planet.

Frag continued licking at her bowl, feeling a pleasant burning sensation traveling down her throat and into her belly.  Ahhh.  She'd avoided alcohol while traveling, felt like that would be a waste of good money.  But now she's here.

Killa resumed doing the barback work they'd been doing when Frag had entered, a few minutes before.  Yeah, Frag decided, I should try to make a friend here.  And I still need to find a decent place to stay.

But Killa surprised her by launching into small talk first.  "So what brings you to this 'shithole' town?  Are you in sales?  Here to buy minerals?"

Fuck, thought Frag, but her oath of honesty meant she had to answer the question. "Well, I'm here to practice genocide, actually."

Killa laughed out loud, "Aren't you a joker!  And what do you mean 'practice' genocide, hahahaha.  Well, you came to the right place, hahahaha."

Frag smiled.  "'Practice' means I'm not actually going to kill anybody.  It's a practice run."

Killa stopped laughing.  "But you are going to kill people later?"

Frag sighed, "I don't know.  That's not up to me.  I'm just supposed to practice."

condo until Sunday!

I did the darn spiral skull exercises three times, taking a walk around the house in between each set.  Then I drank water, and more water, until I started to pee clear fluid.  By then, I was all fine.  Took Dax on a walk -- he stays on the leash now and I have to keep him from chomping on sticks.  Then I did the Turkey Dinner dishes and cleaned the kitchen.  Then I went on a run!

I'd wanted to do weight lifting so my torso would be buff for my Reddit boys when I made new content for them tonight, but T had other ideas for the basement, he was installing a new floor covering in our "gym" area.  So I went running instead.  From disabling vertigo to running 3 miles, heh.

Then we had leftovers for lunch, I packed, showered, and headed to the condo.  Looks like I'll be here until Sunday, which may mean I'll have time to climb the learning curve for one of the DAWs so I can start making music again.

But then, even though I'd killed my NaNoWriMo a few days early, my overnight vertigo high had pushed my head underwater into a new story.  I couldn't "breathe" until I started thinking about it, and role playing it, and now I've written the first chapter and I'm still role playing it.  Damn.  So, y'all are going to see me writing more fiction.  Frag and Killa, will they shag? Or shoot each other?  Or shag and then shoot each other?

Here at the condo, warming up my butt for toys, and then I'll get to play with more toys tomorrow night also!  Six days since last orgasm, which this time is enough to be horny, but not enough to ask the Oracle of the Cum Deck for permission.

Mark from Reddit wants to see a video of me choking on a dildo, so before I left the house I had to dig in my closet for an old dildo that's small enough to fit into my mouth.  Heh, most of my toys are too big to fit inside my mouth.  But I found an old one that I can choke on.  Mark wants to see me choking with tears.  Which I would gladly do on his own cock, until he flooded my esophagus with his cum.  But, he's in Canada.  It would be illegal for me to visit him right now.  And I wouldn't anyway.  Sigh.

I'm used to choking on cock in person, for hours at a time, but this will have to do for now.

sexting everybody but Mark

Mark is too hot, he intimidates me, I want to be At My Fucking Best for him when I make that cock-choking video ... so meanwhile I'm sexting with all the other boys, LOL.  I'd warned Mark I may not have time to myself until Saturday ... padding the schedule a bit ... but maybe I'll make the cock-choking video tonight ... damn ... reminds me of when I met KWC way back in 1990 and felt like he was too hot for me ... so nervous as we made out at the beach that first night, a few blocks from my parents' house, I couldn't cum, 

this stage fright didn't last, we had lots of lots of cum over the years, especially during our weekend at his brother's apartment while said brother was out of town -- I came seven times, and he at least matched me, as we watched videos on the floor, on a futon mattress on the floor, VCR, stuff like the original Handmaid's Tale, cum everywhere, we both lived with our parents back then, see, so, having a place to ourselves was a cum factory,

And, hey, K was/is definitely too hot for me also, c'mon.  Such a hottie.  I've been blessed with multiple men who are too hot for me.

And WTF does that even mean?  On the one hand, I've never balked, I've never said to self, "He's out of my league."  OTOH, I still feel it.  I transgress my perceived league boundaries.  But, fuck, Mark is too hot.  I hope he's saying the same goddess damned thing about me, as he patiently waits for my time to free up.  Which it already has.  Fuck.

OK, I did it

I sent a cock-choking video to Mark.  Goddess, let me know in the morning whether he liked it.