Maybe he's talking to The Gracklecleaver?
June 2007 Archives
Many of the people I know, more than a few that I hold most dear in this life, keep saying, "keep on trucking" to me and even to each other. Why do they say this? What does it mean? I've been wondering for years, but have either been too shy or have had too much food in my mouth at the time to ask them. Am I missing out on something? You would think having two Ph.Ds would give me some insight here. I'm no ivory tower shut-in, but I guess there's still much I don't know. Having seen your address and general description on the side of one of those small blimps, I figured I'd give this a try.
Desperate for knowledge and thanking you in advance,
Squalid youth hostel room no. 5,
Coming back from dinner in Little Tokyo, I saw this from the car I was riding in with boys.
Words escape me and I am left with the realisation that it will take a cleverer soul than I to write the story of the time when Earth was called Plushland and all its most pious denizens strove for nothing more than than to bounce unto Glory.
Or how Glory was in a truck.
A truck behind razor wire.
The book was finished many weeks ago, and after many weeks of pestering those kind of people who can get a book published, I have decided to (well, no other choice) self-publish. Unknown writer + fiction + short stories + no solid genre + my insipid writing styles + too much awesome = do it yourself. But, I feel that this book will not disappoint. I know horrible writing when I read it, and there is a section in the book proving this, with myself providing the horrible writing. Read on for the title and finalized Table of Contents of this beautiful mess.