Writes all the things. Most of the things never write back.
I keep telling myself “The seasonal average for April is four inches of snow. The seasonal average for April is four inches of snow…”
This is my version of Dorothy clicking the heels of her ruby slippers together and repeating “There’s no place like home.”
Oh, now you’re picturing ME in ruby slippers. STOP THAT.
Many things are improved with the addition of googly eyes
Woohoo!
82!
I am going to start a Central New York exercise plan where you do as many push-ups a day as the daily high temperature. I’ll do this as soon as I figure out how to do a negative push-up.
I am now imagining a new Twilight movie.
Twilight: Breaking Bad.
Walter White was a bad man. Becoming a vampire did not improve him.
“Give me all your thesauruses! And make it snappy, quick, speedy, expeditious, rapid, fast, swift, brisk, prompt, accelerated!”
Over on Twitter, I said I was going to do a rewrite of Pulp Fiction, write in Professor Henry Higgins, and call it Pulp Diction.
But I probably won’t. Probably.
Line from the story I’m working on:
“He raised his arm. There was a hatchet in his hand. Something told me this was a guy who would lie about what had happened to the cherry tree.”
Over on Twitter, I said I was going to do a rewrite of Pulp Fiction, write in Professor Henry Higgins, and call it Pulp Diction.
But I probably won’t. Probably.
I’m going to keep the dream alive. Or sew together pieces of several dead dreams, apply lightning to the electrodes, and hope for the best.