Excellent!
When it is fit for human consumption, I want it. 🙂
Excellent! You Rock! And Other Capitalised Superlatives!
Finished in long-hand? Is there some mammoth typing procedure that you must now follow, or is there a little old typist somewhere in a cottage who you entrust with your pages, who types them for you?
Congrats!
Choice bro!
Bah! Anyone can write a book! Kidding dude. Nice one. I, likewise cannot wait for a squiz.
Yay Morgue! You rock!
Seems a long way from that deli on Victoria Street. I can still see you there in your orange polar fleece, hunched at a table in the corner of the mezzanine floor, no claustrophobes admitted, those great rounds of stinking cheese, the roaster, the press of tourists and the chattering of Fi’s coffee grinder below failing to intercede. Infernal! Anagogic! A place to hear about the dream of a paralysed man and his disembodied friends. You never made it to Iran though. I’m looking forward to hearing the finished tale too. Having guest appeared in the beginning I’m wondering where its gone since. Do you remember Nicky drawing his denominational models of the trinity on Fowler’s blackboard? I feel like we’re all having that dream right now, it’s recurring, an electric church. Proceeding from the mezzanine, down the winding staircase. The intercession, a filioque clause, Ron et Corpus : “I say unto thee, Arise, and take up thy bed, and go thy way into thine house.”
Excellent!
When it is fit for human consumption, I want it. 🙂
Excellent! You Rock! And Other Capitalised Superlatives!
Finished in long-hand? Is there some mammoth typing procedure that you must now follow, or is there a little old typist somewhere in a cottage who you entrust with your pages, who types them for you?
Congrats!
Choice bro!
Bah! Anyone can write a book! Kidding dude. Nice one. I, likewise cannot wait for a squiz.
Yay Morgue! You rock!
Seems a long way from that deli on Victoria Street. I can still see you there in your orange polar fleece, hunched at a table in the corner of the mezzanine floor, no claustrophobes admitted, those great rounds of stinking cheese, the roaster, the press of tourists and the chattering of Fi’s coffee grinder below failing to intercede. Infernal! Anagogic! A place to hear about the dream of a paralysed man and his disembodied friends. You never made it to Iran though. I’m looking forward to hearing the finished tale too. Having guest appeared in the beginning I’m wondering where its gone since. Do you remember Nicky drawing his denominational models of the trinity on Fowler’s blackboard? I feel like we’re all having that dream right now, it’s recurring, an electric church. Proceeding from the mezzanine, down the winding staircase. The intercession, a filioque clause, Ron et Corpus : “I say unto thee, Arise, and take up thy bed, and go thy way into thine house.”