My Right to Write
wondrous day when all pregnant women simultaneously go into labor. Yeah yeah, I know that's not the case, but wouldn't it be totally wild if it were? Emergency rooms the world over would be flooded with screaming birthing women with broken waters and their fingernails dug four inches into the arms of the men who impregnated them. Hospitals would absolutely dread the onset of Labor Day, making sure all available personnel are on hand to deal with a deluge of infants. News agencies would eagerly cover each Labor Day, comparing the number of births with the previous year, commenting on what the increase or decrease in pregnancies means in the context of today's techno-industrial society.
COMMENTATOR: Well, Ashley, what we can see from this chart is a definite increase in the Labor Day birth rate. This is a clear indication that the world population is screwing at an unprecedented rate. In fact, I have a raging boner right now. Wanna go halves on a bastard?
Whoops, where was I?
I was mowing the parents' lawn last weekend, mainly because they're conveniently living in Tokyo right now and won't be home until Christmas, the lousy jerks. As I was laboring on the lawn, I noticed a package on the deck next to the back door. I made a mental note to check it out after I finished mowing, and then I quickly forgot about it entirely.
I rediscovered the package later that afternoon when I tried to open the door and enjoy a good deck sitting, at which point I tripped over the box and almost stumbled off the deck. I brought the box inside and opened, revealing its contents: a 2002 Writer's Market, a 2002 online Writer's Market, and a book about selling newspaper and magazine columns. I smiled.
Earlier in the summer, I remember talking to my mother about being more proactive in selling my written work. She's convinced I could find an audience with more than the two papers for which I currently write, if I only promoted myself better. I guess she's probably correct, but it's just so much extra work to sell myself. How do prostitutes do it? So I'm lazy. Sue me.
So, the Writer's Market guides are my mother's not-too-subtle hint that I should get out there and sell my written brain incredible power to nag me. I gotta love her.
UPDATE: Unrelated, but I've had thoughts about porn. Porn makes good politics. And boobs are good. Tits are very good.
Dark Knight. Heath Ledger. Batman. The Joker. Dark Knight. Heath Ledger. Batman. The Joker. Dark Knight. Heath Ledger. Batman. The Joker. Kirsten Dunst nude. Kirsten Dunst . Kirsten Dunst . Kirsten Dunst . Kirsten Dunst . Kirsten Dunst . Kirsten Dunst . Kirsten Dunst . Kirsten Dunst nude. Kirsten Dunst . Kirsten Dunst . Kirsten Dunst .
Scarlett Johansson. Scarlett Johansson. Scarlett Johansson. Scarlett Johansson. Scarlett Johansson. Scarlett Johansson. Scarlett Johansson. Scarlett Johansson. Scarlett Johansson.
Drew Barrymore. Drew Barrymore. Drew Barrymore. Drew Barrymore. Drew Barrymore. Drew Barrymore. Drew Barrymore. Drew Barrymore. Drew Barrymore. Drew Barrymore.
Posted by Ryan at September 3, 2002 03:15 PM
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