You know the world is strange when you get an e-mail with this subject line—“Slave Cylinder Weep Hole Kit”—and it’s not spam. (Ken is selling old motorcycle parts. I…don’t ask.)<>-<>-<>
Had an utterly fabby time with the local RWA-ers, and high tea was again exquisite, and everybody wants to do this monthly! Given how hard it is to get us all in the same place at the same time (we managed 5 out of 6 of us this time), we may not make it monthly, but we can always try.
Proving that I am still muzzy-headed from this cold, I managed to send out Ken’s birthday party invitation without actually mentioning the date. Sheez.
Four stories in the mail today. Go me!
And over 1K on High Spirits, which isn’t the best daily wordcount overall, but is the best I’ve done since I’ve been back home and stricken with this cursed cold. Last night’s brainstorming is serving me well, and I’m looking forward to getting back to things tomorrow.
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Currently Reading: Ill Wind, Rachel Caine
Lately Listened To: gods, I really haven’t been listening to anything much
Recently Watched: Medium (finished last season!), The Graham Norton Show
2 comments:
Says R, from across the room, "Dear Penthouse: I never thought it would happen to me, but my husband was selling used motorcycle parts..."
The fact I can immediately see a fictional use for a "slave cylinder weep hole" in some nebulous future story rather frightens me. I'm hoping that once I've had more caffeine, I'll think better of it.
"Dear Penthouse..."
BWAHAHAHAHA!
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