That’s both 1919s off to the meatgrinder and, apparently now, included in all the fancy-pants bookshops like amazon, itunes and so on.
So, with no deadlines hanging over my head like a bucket of butchers’ knives, it’s time for a wee spot of post-natal dip.
It’s always the same when I finish something I’ve been working on for a while – one day, it just isn’t there and suddenly everything’s in black and white and we’re back in kansas with auntie Em.
Kansas. Shit. I was still in Kansas. Each day I lie here in Kansas, I get weaker and each day Miss Gulch squats out there in the bush, she gets stronger.
So you can dig where my skull’s at, yeah? Each even if you can’t forgive.
Her idea of r’n’r is cold rice and a little munchkin-meat.

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