10/31/11 October. Ends.With five query e-mails sent to various literary agents I begin the task of getting the damn thing (aka my novel) published.
And now this Random Ransom thought. When you see someone smoking out on the now, tobacco filled streets of NYC and you ask: “What are you doing?” and they answer: “Oh, nothing, just having a cigarette,” what they really mean is:
LIFE SUCKS THEN YOU DIE! So I’m just helping that process along by inhaling some poisonous gas and then, oh yes, spewing it out in to the fresh, crisp Autumn air, because I’m miserable and everyone around me should be miserable TOO!”
Oops. Did I just think that out loud. Sorry. never mind.
Happy Day of the Dead
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