As I type this, it has been one week and about 2 hours. I got the call at 9:05 am that his heart had just stopped, and they called him deceased at 9:48 am. I'd gotten there around 9:40 and I asked why in the hell were they still working on him?

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Stuck between a Aerostar 601P and a Cessna 303T.

If you know anything about airplanes, then you know I'm ready to lose my fucking mind. Right now pressurization systems and de-icing systems are the bane of my existence.

That said, while I've not posted much of anything, aside from a chapter of Trudge Runners, I actually have been writing shit! Or editing, but still, I'm basically down to the weekends for free time, so I'm doing what I can to get projects going and moving, and wrapped up.

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Hey everyone, your... uh... I guess your favorite drunkle Grunkle ROB here with something super important.

Scribbler Productions is facing a crisis, and needs everyone's help. It's simple enough, we need to get YouTube's attention for them to pull their head out of their ass, unplug the fucking robots and have a human being talk to her and get this shit straightened out.

Here is the full deetz video, for further context on the situation.

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Hey all, so I know only a hand full of you have been keeping an eye on it, but so far I'm doing pretty good with this Trudge Runner's fic, as I've still got several buffer chapters to get me by for several more weeks.

So, some of you might be questioning me, because let's face it, I have a horrible track record for long fics. So, how committed am I?

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I dunno, man. There's been a lot going on, mostly just small stuff, but also family and job stuff.

I wanted to sit down and do an in depth blog post about everything, but honestly... I'm just too tired for it, so screw it.

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... and it's going on day 4 in the box of shame.

Today at work I was being productive and busy, working on a Robinson 44, when a pilot just randomly walked into the hangar, and gave me some beer and whiskey shooters because "they had been on the plane for a bit too long" and left.

I'm at my dad's, just loaded up the wood burner because the furnace is still fucked.

Lets do this.

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So, before we get into the actual story, lets talk a little about how it came to be.

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So, I'm doing a couple of panels for Trotcon! First one is Friday (that's today) at 4:45 PM Eastern, and it will be my usual Trotcon panel titled Writers Waffling about Writing Willingly. It is a general QnA panel, so if you have any questions about any aspect of writing, you can ask them there! It is being held on their website, located here, and for questions to be asked it will primarily be on Discord in the Peanut Bucker room, however I will

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OKAY I FORGOT I'M DOING ANOTHER LOONEY CON PANEL IT'S STARTING NOW PROBABLY.

https://discord.com/invite/Fh2cWrFt3d

Same place as last time. It was supposed to start at 5pm Eastern, but we're running a bit behind.

I meant to put this out a couple days ago, but I've been getting my ass kicked by a Cessna 414 and it totally slipped my mind.

This here is the link to the actual convention Discord server, but I'm told that once you join in there you can get a link for the youtube stream thingie?

Edit: HERE'S THE YOUTUBES.

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That's right, and it's hella illegal to post as a story, so I bring you, through my blog post, 6200 words of pure madness:

This Fic is Illegal to Post
By ROBCakeran53
Content warning: Swearing, and random tag changes (although nothing gets explicit)

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The first thing I sensed upon waking up, was an intense, bright white light.

"Oh, God, my eyes," I muttered, trying to cover them with my hands.

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