Day 65. 31 pages, 9,867 words.

September is a bit of a weird month for me. Mainly, these days, because it reminds me of 2011. 2011, as Facebook’s “On This Day” feature hilariously reminds me, was a long series of unpleasant experiences. But it was also pretty amazing.

Facebook itself, in other news, is a toilet. Oh wait, that’s not news. Still funny though.

September 2011 was when I went under the knife for my cancer removal, and the removal of a certain amount of other digestive hardware. It was … highly unpleasant. It was also the month Wump learned to say “papa”, while on the way to the hospital to visit me. I will never be able to express in words how wonderful it made me feel to see her little face at the side of the bed. And expressing things in words is basically my life. Maybe I can best sum it up by saying I had morphine going into my spine and it was still Wump’s face that made me feel good.

After the surgery and the awful recovery, of course, came the follow-up chemotherapy and the vomiting, the diarrhoea, the slow recovery and then the nightmarish bus and tram trips out to the hospital for the next month’s dose. Mrs. Hatboy got me through it all and I never praise her enough for that.


Get checked for all the cancer, my friends. Get checked today.

And then go and buy my books! Fun fact, 2011 was also the year I decided it was time to stop fucking around with writing and re-writing and re-re-writing until I died. And actually wrote, and finished, and published a book.

Okay, the first one was about my butt because it was sort of a big deal to me back in 2011. But then I wrote another one, one that wasn’t about my butt. And after that I didn’t stop.

And I don’t intend to now.

– Posted from my Huawei mobile phone while sitting in the carpark after work.

About Hatboy

I’m not often driven to introspection or reflection, but the question does come up sometimes. The big question. So big, there’s just no containing it within the puny boundaries of a single set of punctuationary bookends. Who are these mysterious and unsung heroes of obscurity and shadow? What is their origin story? Do they have a prequel trilogy? What are their secret identities? What are their public identities, for that matter? What are their powers? Their abilities? Their haunted pasts and troubled futures? Their modus operandi? Where do they live anyway, and when? What do they do for a living? Do they really have these fantastical adventures, or is it a dazzlingly intellectual and overwrought metaphor? Or is it perhaps a smug and post-modern sort of metaphor? Is it a plain stupid metaphor, hedged around with thick wads of plausible deniability, a soap bubble of illusory plot dependent upon readers who don’t dare question it for fear of looking foolish? A flight of fancy, having dozed off in front of the television during an episode of something suitably spaceship-oriented? Do they have a quest, a handler, a mission statement, a department-level development objective in five stages? I am Hatboy.
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4 Responses to September

  1. Hate. Toilet. That guy may not know a lot of English words, but he knew the ones he needed XD

    And I was definitely focused on butt part, too. As was your Facebook flashback apparently, or whatever the fuck it’s called. I’m glad you made it through all that to give us quality content on such a regular basis, mate. You go ahead and stay focused on that butt part, such as it is. We need you.

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