Nov 19 2008
I’ve got the freakiest headache you can imagine, and little Japanese clowns keep popping in my head. I’m kinda tired, I think 
. And, thus, a little loopy…again.
So I must continue my onslaught of retardedness here. Yes, indeedy. With another clip from the wonderful, weird, wacky, wiggly, wovely wobbly Jim Carrey, the master comedian, rubber band man and just all-around sooper-cool dude. Taco Supreme.
Nov 19 2008
(Sighs) There are days when the “Wretched Writer” gets emotional. You know it. I know it. It’s sometimes exhausting, people. But let me tell you–I wouldn’t have it any other way. He’s a true human being. I hope.
And he sometimes listens to this piece here when things are rough in life, when rejections mount, when he’s discouraged, when he’s lost strength in the story, the writing–
When the world is beginning to get the best of him, as it always does with every writer on Earth.
He listens to this song in parts of a plot that are especially dramatic, remarkably overwhelming on a humanistic and spiritual level. It gets to him. He likes that stuff. Quite frankly, so do I–
Hey, I can be human a little bit, too, you know? We all are. We can only imagine to be more than that in life…. Mercy Me, baby. Mercy Me….
