December 11, 2012: Guten Tag ... Well, well, well! I'm back. I'm guessing you, like the Westport school board, thought you could get rid of me if you held your breath long enough, but alas, I'm still here, like gum in the exquisite treads of your high-performance running sneaker ...
Believe me, I wouldn't even consider returning to this insipid Blah-ugh! if it weren't for the outpouring of support and invasive questions I've received these past two months--ironically from most of the same people. That, along with the general guilt I carry with me on an ongoing basis, makes it now the right time to move forward with entry Number ... I don't know, 147 or so ... So let's proceed ...
For starters, Yes, I'm restraining myself quite gallantly as I continue to meet such unnecessary resistence and ineffectuality from Westport's unconscious headstrong school administration. It makes me wonder if and when I'll see it as time to make public a couple of rather dark--and sincerely disturbing--secrets I have on a couple of those people. I'm really hoping it won't come to that, because I'm honestly not out to embarrass anyone. But there comes a time when one man must take a stand on behalf of the myriad wretches who are too frightened or too cowardly to do likewise, if only to strengthen this man's unbearably fetching ego. And if traditional means don't serve the public to the level it deserves, a hissyfit may be in order, and some of you have seen firsthand what a vindictive twit I can be ... and I'm referring to my friends! ... So stay tuned ...
But let's talk of more important matters ... I wanted to share about my remarkable discovery of Lactaid eggnog, which has truly changed my life, at least insofar as it relates to the holiday months. Many of you loyal readers know my issues with intolerance--lactose and otherwise--so please rejoice for me, for I can once again enjoy the tantalizing joy of late-night eggnog without an enzyme of worry about what disturbing surprises might greet me all throughout the following day ... Yes, my appreciation goes out to the Lactaid people, and let me say I especially like their logo, which features an impressionist icon of a man dancing with a cow. I want to be that man, or at least that cow.
On another note, I'm working on a new novel, which some of you will find even better than SPACE CASE, which many of you despised, and the rest of you didn't even bother reading. (I'm talking to YOU, Michael N.) This one, however, should be more palitable for the mainstream, if not more palatible. (I still can't decide which.) I'll tell you what it's about as soon as I'M sure, then we'll talk about how you can purchase it without feeling that you're, in any way, supporting me or what I do ...
And what DO I do? Wouldn't YOU like to know! But I can't tell you, because that would spoil everything, or at least it would spoil my next Blah-ugh! entrance, which promises to be chockful of thrills and drama and all kinds of cool punctuation ...
Which reminds me, when are people going to stop confusing the dash and the hyphen? Some of you are, perhaps, wondering when they're going to START confusing them, and this is why things get confusing, because half the time whatever I type anyway gets automatically corrected by the computer, so there isn't much power I have left with these written words.
And speaking of written words, if you haven't read "The Wind in the Willows," you're a toad, and not like a fun, rich toad, like Toad, but a nasty, wart-ridden carbunkle with nay the aesthetic flavor of a breathmint. Gosh, I just love this book. I honestly don't think I could name a better written book today, except for SPACE CASE, but that's a modern AMERICAN book, so it's kind of hard to compare. But man and toad alive, this is just some exquisite artful writing ... (Which reminds me, I intended to do an essay on how Toad's devious escapades with motor car driving are a clear metaphor for drug and alcohol addiction; Badger, Mole and Rat even do an intervention on the poor wretch, but ultimately they're second level enablers, and they don't allow Toad to hit his bottom ... But anyway, now I'm too lazy.)
So read the book, or don't. I don't care anymore. I'm feeling like Phil Collins that way. I just want to drink Lactaid eggnog, or just pour it on the cats, and watch Christmas movies and Halloween movies, even though I'm mostly Jewish, and ask myself redundant questions so I know the answers ...
Isn't life great?! I think it is ...
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