Grey Skies… Nothing But Grey Skies

Ola, Macketeers!

Okay, so I’m trying to get my head back into the next chapter of #NewNovel. 300+ words in and it’s looking like my fiendish plan will work after all, but the problem is, I’m kind of wrung out and ferret-shocked today, so focus has been fleeting. Also, I want either a Tally Ho Double Beef Basket, or a Wimpy’s Diner hamburger with all the fixings, and have absolutely no money for such an extravagant craving. I also need a theatre that is playing Cloud Atlas, because I want to see it, okay, stop judging me!

Anyway, I killed off the protagonist of the previous novel in the last chapter, so in this one, I have to salvage the book. Yeah, that was a great plan. Fortunately, it’s not impossible. Just unlikely.

Why do I want another tomato sandwich? We don’t have enough bread for this kind of nonsense. Maybe I’ll just munch on some falafel or something.

I read a story last night. Nobody cried but me. But they seemed to be moved by it, so I guess that’s okay. I’m thinking of making a video recording of the story, if I can just get through it without breaking down. We’ll see.

Pursuant to that, met some interesting book people who reminded me of the writer people I wrote about in Terminal Monday. Funny how life and art and yadda yadda yadda.

Time to get back to work. Maybe a new coffee. Or tea. I’ think tea might be my drug of choice today.

Unless some thoughtful soul finally purchases me a bottle of 15 yr old single malt scotch. There might just be a blow job in it for them.

Administering Chapstick,

Eddie Mack.

Don't be shy. Tell me what you really think, now.


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