She Writes Down Letters With The Tip of Her Tongue

Good Morning, Macketeers.

I’m thinking I need tea and my fuzzy bathrobe, but I’ve trapped myself under a heavy laptop that won’t let me up until I write this blog post and hit Publish. Dratted pushy laptops, I tell ya.

I haven’t quite made up my mind what work is getting done today, but I’m thinking it might have to be artwork that’s been due for a while. This month hasn’t been particularly conducive to drawing, but there’s money involved, so it must happen. Plus, this print cover problem has been vexing me, and it’s costing me potential revenue.

I have to fill out a bunch of forms to get money sent from Smashwords. Boring.

Carptree is one of the most underrated recording acts of the last decade. Fantastic stuff.

I miss being blithe enough to just go visit whomever I wanted to whenever the fancy took me. These days, it feels like I have to have an appointment to see people I grew up with, let alone people whom I’ve considered my best friends.

Okay, time to go get dressed in something warm. Thanks for reading.

Uncle Eddie.

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


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