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Nearly Relevant
Nonsense, Fiction, and Miscellaneous Things

Authorial Correspondence
Sept. 13, 2012
My Darling,

It pains me to have to tell you this.  . . .ouch! . . .

Today, the publishing house which publishes my work has informed me they can no longer afford the team of
in-house translators which has, in the past, translated my writing from gibberish to English.

My writing is all I have to offer. It amounts to this small satchel of ideas and this large, odoriferous burlap sack of laments.  It's not much but it's mine.  And now I would like it to be yours.

My intention, should you decline this proffer, is to gather up all my work and toss it either into a bonfire or out the window of the car as I'm driving in some isolated part of the countryside.

Please consider your options before responding, as I cannot, at an appropriate time in the future, neither gather up the writings which I have burned nor scour the countryside trying to retrieve the tossed mess.


Your one true love and my one true love, me.

Alledgedly Humorous or Humor: Part II

I've thought about renaming this blog, 'Stoically Irrelevant.'

I don't know which is more poignant, a father's melancholy hopes for his son or the son's melancholy hopes for himself.

I like to think that after knowing me for a few weeks you'll conclude that the infinitely terrifying 'Abyss' is actually a pastoral utopia.

Getting the P's and Q's of a task correct is a good idea.  If you're building a road then you might need shovels, earthmovers, blueprints, and labor.  If you've got cooking utensils, blueprints, and labor then you're probably cooking a road not building one.  If you've got shovels, earthmovers, blueprints. and labor but then dig straight down for 2 miles or so, you're not building a road, you're, instead, digging a big, deep hole.  I don't see what's so hard to understand about that.

If it weren't for androgyny, I wouldn't know what it's like to have a girlfriend.


"The herald trumpeteers were fine, dear!  It's just that the chilli was a bit disappointing."

I like to hurriedly approach people
whom are minding their own business, whom I don't know, and whom don't know me and then start jabbering in an accusatory way, "HEY, HEY, HEY, Wo, Wo, Wo, What's going on here!?!"

They usually get a big kick out of it.

Look folks, I didn't invent this life, I just live it.  Okay?

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