Under ordinary circumstances I'd complain about the dreary damp weather we've been having, but with California burning
and Georgia nearly desiccated
that would be ridiculous. So I'll just say I had an odd week, trying to get back into things after disappearing for a vacation. Luckily, two interesting press releases landed in my in-box (considering how rare even one story-worthy press release is, if I were a character in a novel written by a decent author last week would've been rejected as a deus ex machina) so instead of going off on some political tear I just did some unusually respectful stories about a team of local ghost-hunters
and a college student who discusses literary works of the romance-novel genre
. Turns out it has nothing in common with the incident that led me to cheat on you
last year. Hope you're not still upset about that.
A friend of mine pointed out that the ghost story would've been much better if I could've written it Hunter Thompson gonzo style. "Soon as the LSD kicked in I kicked down the cemetery gates to grasp the rainbow ghosts streaming from every tomb." Magnificent. I cry for my wasted potential. Or I would if I had the time. No. Must stop blogging. Must resume work on this incognito piece which, verily, is now the official bane of my existence until next week.