Posted in comedy, humor, humour, Uncategorized, writing

1% Writing A New Book; 99% Whoring Yourself

 

Heptathlon: Where Women Are Still Pretty At The Finish Line

 

Freddie Mercury once wrote ‘It’s A Hard Life’, although being a fabulously wealthy rock star can’t have been that hard a life. There was The AIDS though, so I suppose it’s all relative.

The book! Should we talk about the book? All I do now is talk about the book. The other day someone (in actual real life) asked me ‘What’s it about?’ I had no idea. What is it about? I’ll let this guy tell you.

That’s what the kids are doing now, the youtubes and the bebos, and sending each other the electronic mails and battling each other with their Barcode Battlers. That’s the Future Dystopia that we live in now. And still no hover boards.

The book has actually sold some units. Plenty of units, in fact. And people are saying all sorts of nice shit about it: https://onepercentperspiration.wordpress.com/praise-for-the-boys-of-summer-2/ But there’s still so much to do. I’m basically one person, trying to do a virtual door-to-door of Everyone On The Internet, and it’s slow going. Still, it’s selling me; not selling someone else’s crap. I used to hate selling other people’s shit for them. Sell your own shit, you cunts. I ain’t no camel. Not that camels sell things. They’re more beasts of burden. If any animal sells, it’s the chimpanzee. Those little fellows can make a sale. Especially if the products is A Photograph With Them Sitting On Your Shoulder. Is that a bad reference? Does that not happen any more, where the guy in town with monkeys asks you for five quid, then he takes a picture, asks you for your address and then sends you the print a fortnight later? Probably not. If you know what I’m talking about, you are old as shit.

Anyway, my point is/was, it’s all about the promotion at the moment. I have no time to write something new, so all the ideas are just going into my Idea Book (I don’t have an Idea Book). Possible Second Novels include a Celebrity Kidnap story set in modern day London, a kids book about owls, and a return to the whole Limerick thing with a romantic comedy featuring one of the very fringe characters from The Boys Of Summer, but in 1994. We’ll see, as Mam would say.

If you have bought the book, then thanks! And congratulations, because you now own an excellent book. Also, if you want to know more about the language, watch this shifty looking fucker, and he’ll explain (very little of) it to you.

 

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Self proclaimed author, cynic, saviour of humanity.

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