This cocky little duo signifies that The Skwib will be re-running good stuff from the archives for the next few weeks, while I attempt, once again, to write 50,000 words during the month of November.
I have been successful once, but the fact that I’m already about 8,000 words on DAY 6 does not bode well.
If anyone else is engaging in the NaNoWriMo madness, and wants to be my writing buddy, I can be found on the site here.
The being had crossed all of known space to find her, Lola LaBozla, the smartest woman on Earth. It had tracked her from Earth orbit using the prototype of her own wearable artificial intelligence unit and spaghetti cleanser (AIUSC), that while bulky, had a certain caché and definitely worked with her fish-net stockings. Of course, she realized right away that a being from another star system was using the AIUSC to track her movements, and she was intrigued. Who was this person? Was it a person, or was it some kind of hive mind that inhabited a pile of pasta bacterium?
She was relieved to discover that it not only an individual, but he had a form that was more or less humanoid. She felt this was further evidence of the Anthropic Principle. He had two arms, two legs, and a giant mouth in the middle of his face that had possibilities. His reflective bug-like eyes and claw like hands were a little off-putting, but she was encouraged by the size and girth of his cranium.
She just hoped he wasn’t too attached to wearing the shower cap.
Copy:
Do you enjoy the luxuriant feel of a decapitated head? Then put yourself in an Arrow shirt; that one-and-only Arrow Collar won’t do you a bit of harm, nor will its Mitoga shaped-to-your-shape fit.
Every Arrow Shirt is guaranteed to resist blood stains and its Sanforized exterior means you will leave fewer shirt fibers behind at the scene of the crime.
Arrow, Mitoga, Sanforized, all registered trademarks
Jones had seen The Matrix at least a dozen times, and one day, it just seemed to describe reality better than the demented ramblings of Sir Isaac Newton.
Last night I had that terrible dream where I got slowly digested over a 1000 years again. I wonder what it means?
But in real world — totally looking forward to the Hutt Annual BBQ this weekend. Life has been so good since I captured that Solo loser!
Offered here on The Skwib, not as an admission of any of these anxieties, but as a public service. If you put #58 on everything, then seek immediate psychiatric help.
