Bloodbath

I hate shaving. Maybe I wouldn't lose half my T-cell count if I shaved more than once a month, but the fact that I always end up sitting in a pool of my own blood doesn't support an experiment.

And if you think that hurts, imagine how painful it will be when I get around to shaving my face! Badabing!

The first draft of my book is near completion and is currently titled The 44th Division: America in Europe During the Second World's War: A War to Follow the War that Ended All Wars (Stories from the Past). As you might have guessed, the protagonist Zippy the Duck has entered Hitler's underground bunker. Tired from the journey, however, he's laid down to rest on a hilariously ironic item - a feather pillow! Will he awake before Hitler launches the bomb? Will he feel guilt in saving the human race just after sleeping on the pluckings of his dead duck mother? Answers are mere chapters away...

In the meantime in the real world, looming holidays remind me that I must engage with characters outside of my mind soon. Thus, I've pre-prepared some responses to questions I can expect from returning friends this weekend:

Question: Why are there bandages all over your face?
Answer: If you'd read my blog, you'd know that I can't shave. Similarly, if you'd read my blog, you'd know that in asking me this question you've proven that you don't refresh my blog daily, proving that you, in fact, aren't my friend.

Question: When do we get to read this book of yours?
Answer: When it is published by Bantam Instant Classics, you will be able to purchase it for $19.99. That's right; a half-years' work for a couple of tenners. If you want to prove that you're my good friend, you can buy the limited edition, which is coated in gold dust. Also, the words are spelled out in miniature diamonds, so you'll have to angle the book just right in the light if you want to read the text. This edition can be purchased as a part of the Rumpelstiltskin package - One book, four tickets to a Brewers game, and a keychain in exchange for your first-born.

Question: Is it true that you responded to that Mastercard promotion where you fill in your own text to the commercial?

Answer: This is true, but I couldn't figure out how to save it to show people so I only amused myself. My finish line was something like, "Realizing that it's time to end this tired ad campaign: Priceless." I cracked up, and you would have, too, if you were a true friend.

Question: Wow, man, you're really bleeding.
Answer: I know. The shaving. Be a friend and please ask the next question.

Question: What have you been doing with your time, other than writing a book, doing two part-time jobs, and looking out the window?
Answer: I spend a lot of my time following my mom around, inserting the word "monkey" into normal everyday questions to see if I can crack her. For instance, I might ask her if she's gone out to get the "monkey," instead of the "mail." I might also ask her if she would hire me for work if I partnered an insect-extermination company with "Monkey," instead of our cat "Midnight." The sooner I crack her, the sooner I can claim the inheritance and the house. The inheritance surely includes the small diamonds my book needs, and the house is full of the bugs my company needs to start business. I'm sorry, Midnight; I mean, me-our company. Midnight is a good friend.

Question: You seem really insecure with this constant demanding that we reassure you of our friendship. Is something wrong?
Answer: Nothing is wrong.

Question: Are you sure?
Answer: Yes I'm sure.

Question: Alright...
Answer: Look, if you keep harassing me I'm not going to talk to you anymore.

Question: ...
Answer: ...

Question: ...(cough)...
Answer: ...

Question & Answer: I'm sorry! HUG!

HUGh grant