Ra Allotment Beckons!
Wednesday 1:25 p.m.
My knee got a wee bit stiff after running on Monday (good boy anyway!), but I think I can still dig. There's a helluva amount of digging and planting to be done and I'm just the boy to do it. At least, there are less monstrous weeds to be cast asunder this year due to my assiduous attentions over this past two years of half employment.
I don't have to go back to work till next Tuesday. I must be doing something right in this life! Between now and then, I've only got a dental appointment and a visit to my maw. So I'll go dig and bliss, and write and bliss, and bliss and bliss and bliss. There's got to be a lot of ra bliss between now and next Tuesday. I hope the wrens use the nest in the hut this year. That would be nice! Here comes ra tweety birds!
6:25 p.m.
Got an email from Julia Churchill of Darley Anderson saying she's passing on Ancient Futures. I suppose I'll have to bother someone else with this after what Robert Dudley said about it, but this hustling agents stuff is just a pain in the neck.
The allotment will be a lot easier to dig and plant this year since most of the couch grass is out of it now. Sod busting is pure murder, but any wimp could dig the stuff I was digging today.
I've decided to sell myself for $1,000,000. For this the purchaser gets to own me. I'll send them regular correspondence to let them know how my quest for an agent is getting on and I'll tell them all about ra bliss, of course. This is just a simple one off sale. Only genuine offers entertained. No cranks, please.
11:25 p.m.
The person who sent in the first bid has to realise that, yes, you get to eat me when I'm dead. No hanky panky unfortunately - unless you are a gorgeous young babes and able to do the juju as a kamamudra - but in capitalism everything must be negotiable! Yes, and I am as rare as unique. There is only ever going to one of me and I may emanate as a juju master. Yes, you can be a stupid flatheid and OWN ME! Just put up the money! How about a down payment. That would be good!
My knee got a wee bit stiff after running on Monday (good boy anyway!), but I think I can still dig. There's a helluva amount of digging and planting to be done and I'm just the boy to do it. At least, there are less monstrous weeds to be cast asunder this year due to my assiduous attentions over this past two years of half employment.
I don't have to go back to work till next Tuesday. I must be doing something right in this life! Between now and then, I've only got a dental appointment and a visit to my maw. So I'll go dig and bliss, and write and bliss, and bliss and bliss and bliss. There's got to be a lot of ra bliss between now and next Tuesday. I hope the wrens use the nest in the hut this year. That would be nice! Here comes ra tweety birds!
6:25 p.m.
Got an email from Julia Churchill of Darley Anderson saying she's passing on Ancient Futures. I suppose I'll have to bother someone else with this after what Robert Dudley said about it, but this hustling agents stuff is just a pain in the neck.
The allotment will be a lot easier to dig and plant this year since most of the couch grass is out of it now. Sod busting is pure murder, but any wimp could dig the stuff I was digging today.
I've decided to sell myself for $1,000,000. For this the purchaser gets to own me. I'll send them regular correspondence to let them know how my quest for an agent is getting on and I'll tell them all about ra bliss, of course. This is just a simple one off sale. Only genuine offers entertained. No cranks, please.
11:25 p.m.
The person who sent in the first bid has to realise that, yes, you get to eat me when I'm dead. No hanky panky unfortunately - unless you are a gorgeous young babes and able to do the juju as a kamamudra - but in capitalism everything must be negotiable! Yes, and I am as rare as unique. There is only ever going to one of me and I may emanate as a juju master. Yes, you can be a stupid flatheid and OWN ME! Just put up the money! How about a down payment. That would be good!
posted by Hotboy at 1:27 PM
6 Comments:
Sounds like you have your work cut out for you Hotboy!
Lee Ann: Fortunately, not quite as much as I thought! Hotboy
I say Old Boy,
Are you not selling yourself rather short?
MM III
Selling yourself now? If you're not going to get serious and publicise your books via the HNT program, I wash my hands of the whole meditation/bereavement/t-shirt website project.
Even the shy guy who runs the scheme finally dropped his own breeks for the world. If he can do it, so can you. Think of the exposure! By all means wear the reduction vehicle to cover your modesty, but just get on with it or count me out.
Adolf! Zeig! I count that as a bid! Due to being part of the evil bourgeois, the money won't be a problem! Thank God for that! Don't sign the cheque Shicklegrubber please. I don't mind being dead and thus edible quite soon. Was the cannibalism the deciding factor? KNew it would help. Hotboy
HB - don't worry about payment, if wanted it, I would have marched in and taken it long ago.
God told me to invade your side but I'm not listening after George took his advice.
rob mcdudley.
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