Someone out there recently called me a slacker 'cuz I haven't written anything for a while. But guess what, bitches? You don't know me. The house has been under construction for the past month, which has been very disturbing for me. My writers' group in North Beach has suffered because of it--I've been assigning the group assignments based on upheavel. Upheavel and the dead coming back to life as zombies.
Yeah, Jack would be proud. That's a photo of me an' him in North Beach back before he got all bloated and sweaty and stuff. Those were the good ol' days.
Anyhow, it got so bad around here that my appetite turned sour. I was wasting away. The guys had to get me some special cracked-laced food to get me to eat. But now that the house is getting in order, I'm training to get back to my fighting weight. I gotta keep things in order around here. For chrissakes, someone pooped in our front yard a few weeks ago! Now that I'm feeling better, I'll take the midnight patrols to make sure no one sh**s in my front yard again. That's right--a cat with a baseball bat. Watch out, bitches.
Jim and Jason have been working hard at Ye Olde Dayjobbes, but we all still take some time every weekend to split a bottle of wine or a six pack of beer and sit around and talk to each other and catch up on the craziness.
Yesterday (Valentine's Day), the guys gave me a little treat for my birthday. And this weekend I think we're gonna party down with some strippers and some tequila. It doesn't get much better than that when you've been around as long as I have...
Okay, more next month. Keep it real, kids.
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