Guys —

If I wanted to use guest bloggers in the next few weeks I would have mentioned it. Stop volunteering, please.

18 Comments on “Guys —”

  1. sboydtaylor – Dallas, TX – S. Boyd Taylor lives in Dallas, TX, with his loving wife and brilliant daughter. He practices internal martial arts, writes strange stories, investigates random languages (without really learning them), and tries to play guitar. He also loves Doctor Who, Monty Python, and nice days on the patio when it's about 75-degrees Fahrenheit.
    Sam Taylor

    Eh. Sorry, that anonymous was me.

  2. But Joooohn!! All I ever wanted was to be the blogger’s pet!!! You said I could pound the erasers after class!!! Oh, wait, did I mean run the filmstrips? Oh jeebus. I’ll never get this toady bidness right. Hmm. Voluntoadys: the folks who always raise their hands and volunteer in a sort of bum smoochery way . . . .

  3. The Pentagon denies Scalzi is over-tasked. “Nowhere near the breaking point,” say top officials, “We’re not seriously considering a blogger draft at this point, though additional call-ups of the zombie-Scalzi reserves may be necessary…”

  4. News reports of the overthrow of the Scalzi reign in The Whatever are being strenuously denied by the Scalzi Administration. “We have not asked for guest bloggers during this time of deadlines,” a spokesman said. “We do not need guest bloggers. Mr. Scalzi will have plenty of time for Photoshoppery and cat waxing in the next few weeks. Next question?” Long-time Whatever commenters polled a decidedly mixed reaction, with 16% figuring Mr. Scalzi is overtaxed with the deadlines and needs help, 32% assuming all will be all right, 43% positive that Mr. Scalzi will do something radically unusual in the next ten days and 9% complaining that they only now have figured out what their LOLCreation entry should be. However, a clear majority, 55%, favor anarchy in any form, should it arrive at The Whatever.

    Film at eleven.

    Dr. Phil

  5. Photoshoppery, photoshoppery, photoshoppery. What’s with all these words, John? Book deadlines means photoshop, article deadlines mean lengthy and prolific manifestos. I mean, I’ve only been here a short time, but even *I* know this.

  6. changterhune – Before you hear lies from Chang Terhune himself, we thought we’d tell you the truth: without us, his old action figures, he’d be nowhere. He loved science fiction from way back and began reading it at an early age, but it was through us that he acted it all out. That’s what led to the writing. He watched a lot of science fiction shows like Star Trek, U.F.O, and movies, too. But we were always there to do his bidding. And it’s like they say: you always forget about the little people on your way up. Oh, the 70’s and early 80’s with him were good times! He’d use these blocks and make all the crazy buildings for us to be in his stories. I gotta say the kid’s imagination was pretty damn fertile. Oh, he had friends, but they just weren’t into it like him. He was like the Lance Armstrong of action figures. And of science fiction. At first, when he began writing in the eighth grade, we didn’t mind. He still made time for us. And we knew that when he was holding us in his sweaty little hands and he got that far off look in his eye, he’d come back to burying us in the back yard or - god forbid! – blowing us up with firecrackers. But it was worth it for a part in one of those stories. We loved him for it. He kept us around even when we were minus a leg or two - or even a head. In that mind of his, he found a use for all of us. Then he discovered girls. October, 1986. It was like the end of the world. One day we’re standing in the middle of this building block creation he’d pretended was some marble city on a planet near Alpha Centauri and the next we were stuck in a box in the closet. Not even a “See ya later!” Nope, it was into the closet, then we heard some high-pitched girly-giggles then silence. We didn’t see him for years. We got word about him once in a while. Heard he took up writing, but it was crap like “The Breakfast Club” only with better music. We couldn’t believe it. Not Charlie. What happened to those aliens with heads he’d sculpted out of wax? Spaceships? Those complex plots? All gone. For what? You guessed it: Girls. Emotions. “Serious fiction.” I tell you, it was like hearing Elvis had left the building. During our two decade exile in the closet, we heard other things about him. He went to college. He wrote a lot, but not much he really liked. We knew it even then. It was like he didn’t dare write science fiction. Some of us had lost hope and just lay there. Others kept vigil, hoping for a day we didn’t dare speak about. Then we heard he’d stopped writing in 1996. Did he come to reclaim us? No. He took up music for ten years or so. He took up yoga. Once in a while, he’d visit us in the closet. But it was half-hearted. His mind was elsewhere. Then one day, he really did come back for us. One second we’re in the dark and the next thing we know we’re in a car headed for Massachusetts. Suddenly we got a whole shelf to ourselves out in broad daylight! Then he bought a bunch of others form some planet called Ebay. He’d just sit and stare at us with that old look. But why were we suddenly back in the picture? He had a wife now, who didn’t mind that he played with us. So what had happened? Turns out he’d never forgotten about those stories. He’d been thinking about all of us and the stories he’d made up and then remembered he’d been a writer once. From the shelf we could see him typing away. Before long he’s got a whole novel together! Then he’s working on another one. Word is there are two more in the planning stages! Some short stories, too! It’s good to see him using his imagination again. Its good to know he never abandoned us. He returned to his true love of science fiction. We hear the stories are pretty good. Someday we’ll get one of the cats to score us a copy of the manuscript. Man, it’s good to be out of the damn closet! --- I'm smarter than you I'm harder than you I'm better than you I'm just raw I'm hotter than you More popular than you More clever than you And goshdarn it, people like me I'm smarter than you I'm harder than you I'm better than you I'm just raw I'm hotter than you More popular than you More clever than you And goshdarn it, people like me
    Chang O.C., by any means necessary

    Amen, and word to my brother Bucheit!

    And now what am I gonna do with the new guest blogging hat I bought? Damn.

  7. Damn. Now I’ve got to volunteer just so I don’t feel left out.

    Dear John: if you pick me as a guest blogger I will write posts about 733+ness and illicit ferret-love.

    Also lobsters.

  8. The Whatever readership is in for a marvelous treat, as the Executive Committee of The Official Ghlaghghee Fan Club has graciously accepted Scalzi’s guest blogging invitation.

    The Official Ghlaghghee Fan Club

  9. Quoted from John’s Administrivia:

    If you are interested in commissioning…work from me, please e-mails me and tell me who you are, the magazine or anthology you represent, and the general topic and length of the proposed story, and your payment rates.

    I appreciate your interest in having me guest blog here. Please contact my agent to negotiate appropriate fee.

  10. I will blog, My son. After all, I’ve been looking for an outlet to blog about my NFL picks.

    Plus, I have an in with L. Ron Hubbard if you want to keep it science fictionie and stuff.

    In fact, we bought the rights to show BATTLEFIELD EARTH in Hell as a Christmas present for Satan last year. Every time Jerry Falwell’s eyes bleed from watching it, a demon gets his wings. We haven’t seen Old Scratch this happy since Nixon died.

    (As an aside, Andy Dick, if you’re reading this, Satan’s booked you for New Year’s Eve. Get your affairs in order.)

    Anyway, Ron’s an SF writer, just not very good. He’s no Ken Ham, you know.

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