Ha, ha, ha, Mikhail ... it's not as bad as all that.
FFS.
However, my kooks ... this will be my last proper week of blogging, uh, due to changes in my lifestyle, you dig?
'It will be a once-in-a-blue-moon situation after this week, kooks.'
That's right, Voice. Once in a blue moon ... I might post something or I might not. So ...
'How long is a blue moon, Mikey?'
Er ... how long is it?! You want me to measure a blue moon???
'Well ...'
Oh, I don't know, man. Maybe once every six months. Once a year. Maybe never again. / I actually have no idea BECAUSE ... I don't know where I will be and ... I don't know what I will be doing.
'Yeah. No one will know who you were.'
Eh? Well ..
'Or what you were doing.'
Shut up.
I'm a shaman.
Listen, kooks ... that VERY BIG POEM ... uh, listen ... the whole of this week when I'm not blogging I'll try to get a rough draft of it.
Yes, I'll take it at a slower pace.
Nice and easy. It will be higher quality that way. I can't have jumble of crumble like with the recent conceptuals.
I'm not sure you you you ... you're aware of the chaos I'm dealing with.
'You've told them enough times, Mikey.'
They don't understand though, Voice. Or don't fully appreciate.
Anyway ...
The Owlman ... in his land??? Don't ask me. I don't know yet. But it could be any time.
'He'll be pleased to see you ... if you bring pasties.'
Ha! Don't worry, I'll bring pasties. I'm not an idiot, you know.
Kooks, don't EVER approach The Owlman without pasties. That will be the end of you, I promise.
Anyway ...
Man, I gotta get that rough draft THIS WEEK before the real heavy distractions start coming into my life.
I know that if I get the draft, I will get the poem I need. It might take a year. I'm going to polish it so hard ... readers will be able to see their faces in it. Seriously. AND ... it's going to be more concentrated than any washing-up liquid you've ever known. That's my personal guarantee.
Laters.
