I love the third paragraph of this letter. Not trying to imply the writer is presumptuous, but . . .
“I will be calling you Monday April 21st at 9:00 AM to set up this appointment. Please expect my call. If you need to change it please give me a call.”
Mmm. Unsolicited phone goodness.
A woman installing new plumbing discovered her dream home sits on a Quaker Burial Ground. Cost for cremating 100 sacred skeletons: 60,000 British Pounds.
Ouch. And here I’m still smarting from my tax bill. Maybe they could make a nice chandelier upstairs with the parts instead.
In other news, the novel is back “in consideration” at an agency. More details as they come to me.
Forbes released a list of the ten most lustful cities in the United States. Of San Antonio’s number two ranking, I must resolutely disagree.
The city is a museum, a town where everything looks appealing, but people are discouraged from touching anything. Hardly the right backdrop for making sexy time, if you ask me. Austin on the other hand is a hip town. You may not get lucky, but you sure as hell will have some fun.
Anyway, here’s a link to the list.
Phone calls and kind wishes about my grandfather’s passing are still coming in; I’m really impressed with the amount of time people took out of their schedules to contact me.
An old buddy called me last night, in fact. He was unfamiliar with the story in the eulogy, but he had met my grandfather about six years ago and could see the events unfolding as I described.
Which, to quote Roger Waters, that kind of prop is: “Good enough.”
Now back to writing…
