All righty! I’m back.
If you saw my post from this afternoon, after I officially finished Booty Core, and my digital instructor instructed us to take photos of our new post-Booty Core physiques — well, that photo has nothing whatsoever to do with Booty Core because apparently I still never do what instructors tell me to do. And I couldn’t duplicate that photo again if I tried, gang! So hang on to it for future reference, because I don’t actually really look like that…
Well, the new contracts for Tell My Bones are done and off in the mail. Finally. And I’m not going to tell you how many rights I chose to give away, in order to get them to sign that darn thing, but you know what? I really, really just need my play and all things connected to my play (and my previous screenplay that it’s derived from) so I’m good. It’s all okay.
And I’ve been working on Thug Luckless: Welcome To P-Town. So it’s been a good day.
I’m a little concerned that the IRS wrote to me today and informed me that they took $30 from my 2019 tax refund that I had apparently owed since 2013.
Is that insane, or what? Jesus. Thirty bucks. Seven years later. What the hell? I sure hope it helps improve our nations highways and educational systems. Whatever. It still felt kind of scary. Like, how did you just now discover that? What else is lurking out there for me in IRS land? I should call my accountant and demand answers!! But I won’t. I’m just moving forward. They got their money.
And FYI: everybody wants more money this year! Not only did my new (leased) car payment leap up wildly, but my cell phone went up, my Internet went up, my healthcare cooperative nearly doubled. It’s fucking insane. And according to a new alarming blog post at the Copyright Alliance site today, you’ve got to be out of your fucking mind to be an author anymore because book pirating is through the roof all over the darn world. (As I can sadly attest to, when Ribbon of Darkness got illegally downloaded in a torrent about 3000 times in 10 minutes this past fall. Something horrible like that.) But you know — what am I gonna do? Not write books? So on we go, right?
If you are able to view the music player in your browser (you have to turn your phone sideways, if you view this blog on your phone), you will see that I switched out the music again. I have posted this song before, but in a 1984 demo version. This one is a 1993 demo that I’d forgotten all about! It’s full of fiddles and steel guitar — and a piano! I have no idea who’s playing that. And I’m singing like an angel. Honestly, I have some sort of angelic vocal thing happening there. So that totally shocked me, but I decided to post it here to the blog. It actually starts with a 45-second dobro guitar intro, and then the actual song begins, if you feel like listening to it.
[Update: apparently that dobro intro de-materialized somehow.]
And I also apparently cleaned up the lyrics — no mention of orgasms in this version. We changed “coming” to “dreaming.” So if you’re at all sensitive to stuff that the human body does (and if you are, I can’t imagine how you’ve found yourself at this particular blog), but anyway — it’s safe and sanitized today! We have forfeited our orgasms for the safety of dreams!
All righty. I hope you guys have a great night — or a good morning, if you’re somewhere really far from Crazeysburg! Thanks for visiting! Enjoy, gang. I love you guys. See ya.