Not for any particular reason. i didn’t feel like killing a millwright today either. Of course I didn’t do that. I’m not writing either. I’m doing what everyone else does. I’m typing that which is unworthy of being read by the masses. I don’t mind. I see what y’all like about it. Kind of mind numbing, not as physical as masturbation, and you don’t have to clean up after.
A lot of books I’ve read I think were written just this way. Someone sat down with no desire to write, and then did it anyway. Then on a monday morning some editor found the manuscript laying in his in basket, and not particularly feeling like editing threw it in the trash. The janitor, who had been drinking mimosa’s since 8a.m. saturday morning felt the manuscript to weighty to carry down to the dumpster, and deviously placed it in the editors outbox.
The manuscript found its way eventually to the publisher, who had no idea the editor spent monday mornings praying for a painless death, andc was totally unaware that a miscreant of a lazy janitor didn’t feel like working through his 7 on a scale of 1 to 10 hangover. Ignorance being as effective a tool on publishers as it is on the rest of us, the manuscript was put in the queue awaiting publication.
You now know how all these books by Coulter, Moore, Stephanopolous (just wanted to challenge myself), limbaugh, et al found there way into every waiting room in the country. Madonna’s got there because she showed her tits. Mine is still awaiting the worthless editor lazy janitor ignorant publisher troika to do their work…or not…as the case may be