Thursday, September 20, 2012

Mud, meat Dirt, Dirty? Meat mud?

My name is Mud.  And I have written a book.  Now I am in the process of trying to force myself to edit it, and the eight short stories I have to finish.  Just sitting there.  On my desktop.   Beckoning to me.

I SHOULD finish them.  I CAN finish them.  I just don't.  Upwards of five of those stories just need edited or proofread.  The other three I could easily finish.  Jesus, I have poems too.  And two more book ideas, and at least two or three novellas, not to mention a thesis, class papers, and in the somewhat more distant future a dissertation?  Fuck me!  I have shit to write!   It ain't gonna write isself, yo...!

Damn straight it ain't.   Hellz yeauuhhhh!!!  Dickweed!  What's up?  I am like tote's writing right now even!  That's ridiculous.  I should just finish it all so I can move on to the next thing.  That would be logical.  Yes it would.

Sorry, I will stop talking to myself now.

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