book

…another glass of SB, and thinking about this neighborhood.  Neighbors.  Am I, the best neighbor?  You’d have to define that for me.  And, I have no interest in being the “best” neighbor.  After all the hassle with the assholes next-door we find out, as per their admittance, their stupid for-sale sign caused whatever leak they were bitching about.  The justice is poetic, but also annoying.  Just fucking move already, Jesus… how long has their shitty house been in escrow?  Like 5 months?  And now they finally found whatever redneck right-wing neo-nazi sanctuary they saw for themselves… just leave, you lard-prone puss-farts.

Have to thank my author friends for this new demeanor and dimension.  Just messaged her.  Said,  “Have to say, reading you has made my writing more not-give-a-fuck-ish… thank you so much.  Also, your new book is like a rich multi-shaded buffet of lawless play.  Please accept my thanks.  Hope all is well.  RESPECT.  -Mikey” And that’s where I am, and why not.  In college comp and lit and critical thinking courses – not sure I had to capitalize anything there and don’t give a shit right now –