I keep a Hotmail account, just in case. I check it every day just to clean out all the junk mail. I gets oodles of emails a day offering to loan me money, increase the size of my penis, find me a rewarding new career, or show me porn. Or maybe they're just offering me a loan so I can increase the size of my penis and embark on a rewarding career in porn. Think of it as multi-tasking.
I haven't updated my journal much lately because to be honest nothing much has happened. And I've been uninspired. And lazy. Mostly lazy. Although Pen did win two tickets at work for us to fly to Vancouver, stay in a nice hotel, and see Shania Twain in concert on Sunday. Hey, it's free.
There's nothing much happening with my writing, either. I'm still writing, but no one seems interested. You read all those stories about authors whose work was rejected by eleventy-four different publishers before finally going on to best-sellers. But you know what? At least those people had agents who could show their work to hordes of publishers all at the same time. I, on the other hand, have been rejected by at least eleventy-four agents. Which means if I want to submit I have to do it one publisher at a time. At this rate, it'll take me ten years just to get past Baen. Then I can work on the C's.
Nobody loves me. Everybody hates me. I'm going to the garden to eat some carrots. What? Worms? What kind of sicko are you?
KFC has a new Lord Of The Rings "QUEST Family Meal," complete with "Chicken Rings." I don't know about you, but I don't want to know what part of the bird Chicken Rings are made from.
Saddam denies he had al-Qaida ties. al-Qaida cufflinks and t-shirts, sure, but no ties.