Hey y'all,
I found myself on a little bit of a streak this week. I was initially thoroughly flogging myself with a wet noodle. Still, I quickly reviewed the calendar and realized I had not written enough to meet my arbitrary deadline for new material to be released. So, after completely hearing all the lamentations of the women, I set about correcting the error.
In other words, I apologized to the MILF porn creators and told them I was taking the week off, and they could put a pause on their weekly work schedule.
They said they could live with it, but you know that feeling when your wife says she's okay with something, but the hair on the back of your neck is trying to reach around to the front and choke you?
Yeah, it was kinda like that.
But twixt those evil tidings came in the sound waves, and I got some shit written, and it wasn't half bad. So I polished the turd into a shiny, new ball of wax poetica. (Not sure I said that correctly, but fuck it, I'm talking about writing over searching for porn.) It's an Arthurian legend.
Well, not really. It's a continuing story about a kid who gets a hand up on life and now lives it how he thinks he should.
Nice job if you can get it.
The editors will be going over it with a fine tooth comb. (And now all I can see are the two black Spaceballs using a human-sized pick to comb the desert, and they ain't found shit.)
That has to be some kind of key for me to stop and joyfully wait for the editors to fix what I spent all that time breaking in the first place!
Luckily, they make it look easy.
Toot-a-loo!
--Shinerdrinker