Today is the 31st edition of my 29th birthday. A warning for the weak of heart or grammar police, I’m at the Pub while writing this and the Newcastle Brown is going down really, really well. On top of charred bovine muscle and fudge marble cake. Without candles – fire hazard.
And, the Ho-Down Show-Down is in full force outside the Pub. Ladies, just because they make Spandex clothing in your size doesn’t mean you should wear it. Are we clear?
Plus, the Zimmer verdict just came down. No doubt, stand-your-ground laws will be challenged all over the US. Having some version of stand-your-ground is better than having none. Will we ever know the truth?
R&L – believe it or not, working on it. The chapters I’ve written in my head and in notes all through the entire story for this set of events – and now hitting the wall. Too much detail of feetsball. Not enough about Becca. Is the theme I’m weaving… It’s throwing me. So far, on the “next” chapter, I’ve written over 40,000 words, and have a “First Draft” word count of 6,000 words (which if my scalpel were sharp enough would be a lot smaller). I’m pushing to not go “yellow”. Damn, that sucks. For me and you.
Well, back to the free flow of God’s gift to end… Well, whatever.
“Eric, a few fingers more of that wonderful Highlands nectar and perhaps one of those Monte Cristos hidden in the back of the humidor?”