Well, I have a manuscript. 45 pages of poetry. 21 of fiction. Say, you wouldn't happen to know anyone who wants to, ya' know... publish it? Like, maybe an eBook or something? Maybe some kind of super Midwest literature anthology? Let's work on that, together. So just like Shake-N-Bake, you can say that you helped.
So, did you get that? Know any agents? Are you an agent? Like what you see? 10 dollars for 10 minutes? Yeah, I'll hike up my skirt for you, talk dirty, put on the transparent jelly plastic high-heels. I'll do that.
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Lazy Sunday. Super Nintendo. Tortoise. New albums, etc. A sepia/B&W picture with a "develop this old film" camera day. My eyes feel like big windows and the two men dressed in white jump suits who wash them are tugging the ropes to go down, so my eyes keep closing slowly.
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Transcripts came in from Ball State. They'll be sent off tomorrow. Then hopefully by the end of next week, everything (except for the GRE scores) will follow in suit. It's scaring me. 80 degree roller coaster drop. Mom's footsteps in the hallway and there's no way you can shovel all the weed back in the baggie before she opens he door and goes Planet of the Apes on you and your three friends.
Please tell me that everything I've been doing will be entirely worth it.
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