The One Hundred and Eighty-Third Post: The One Where I’m Hiding Under the Bed From the Plumber…

Well, the plumbing in the house has been acting wonky and since I came upon a windfall, I figured I would use it to get the bathroom fixed. I am not going to go into the details, but this is costing me a lot of money (charging me for the water coming in and going out? Stay classy, City) over the long run, so I’m going to try to stem the flood as it were. I hate to admit it, but so far this house has been a money sink. I’m still considering arson as a financial tactic, but we will see what happens. I am so happy I have some pain killers left over from the time I was sick – maybe they can take the edge off of having the plumber here. You’d think that as often as one shows up, I would have this many problems… but, no. A stranger comes in and I have to be peeled off the walls.

Smut continues, but it’s coming a little slowly as the week ends, so I am going to organize myself for a big push to finish one piece on Saturday before I head out. I might even be able to get both finished – one is at the half-way point and the other one is heading for an act change. I might even work on one a little bit when I get off of work today. I’ve got another couple of ideas, but they need to be fleshed out (ha-ha) before I commit them to the screen as it were. I’m kinda worried that there is only so much depravity I can claw my way through before I run out of saleable ideas. Oh…wait…I have Wikipedia. Never mind, then – let the smut flow. As you might be clicking on that link and thinking this, I am gambling that there are a couple of people out there thinking this and they’re going to tell their friends. Besides – I should try to do things that interest me, which will reflect on my work. Did I mention that I am a jaded, bitter middle aged, world weary person? Sorry, I should have put that in the bio.

The plumber is here, so I am going to get myself a shot of rum and wait patiently as he fixes (hopefully for the last time) the bathroom. I am still committed to having this house torn down and rebuilt once I either hit the lottery or sell enough books. Smut-ward, ho!



Seething Apathy

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