I'm Gonna Get...

Erected!

A man can dream I suppose.

I have decided to try writing a story. I don't say "book" because that implies it's being written for others. Plus everyone's writing a book. A book's so 20th century even FOX wouldn't take it.

Maybe I'll try selling it to my Uncle in Kindle format for reading in the bathroom when the latest copy of People magazine gets all crinkly and wrinkled.

The story I'm writing is simple, visceral and pre-digested. It has been told billions of times. It condenses evil into a conspiratorial plot-line that will make paranoids gasp in vindication when their delusions are reinforced by the written word.

My story has a nice happy ending. It's like the prostate massage at a seedy rubdown joint in a third-trimester recessional abortion of a strip mall; no obligations, cash up front and service in the rear. Mind you don't blow out your tires on the broken glass in the parking lot. Have a nice day.

All I gotta do is keep up with my one page-a-day goal. By the end of the year I should have enough to call it quits.