Hi. Why did not one of you say what a piece of snotcrap my current screenplay is when it is? I believe it is because you all secretly hate me and want me to try to make a film out of this snotcrap script and then look foolish in front of everyone who sees it. That is what I believe. Well, ha! Your plan has not worked! I am now ditching that screenplay for the much better screenplay that is going to be titled "Twelve Stories about Rhonda." It will be the best short film ever, and I will be famous, and I will be rich, and I will give none of my money to any of you except Kim because, well, I have to give some to her by law because Virginia is a community property state.
I have almost two hours between the time when I leave work and when I have to be at bell practice. In that time, I want to have at least six of my stories written. Also, I need at least twelve volunteers from my friends -- and you all are my friends, yes? -- to read some of the stories as a first-person narrator. What you need to do this is to have a quality microphone and a naturalistic speaking style. What you do not need is to be on camera, at least not all of y'all. You will be in the closing credits. Please tell me if you want to do this.
i sincerely do not know what you are doing here. are you lost? were you
looking for your delicate calico cat, and did you follow her up two flights of stairs
to this room? she is not here. she was here, yes. we gave her a warm bowl of milk, we talked with her about campaign finance reform for a time, and then she bid us good day. i believe she was
going to the post office two blocks down, but i don't quite recall.
for surely you did
not find your way from prinsiana, the least traveled site on
the internet. if you did, though, perhaps you are looking for humor. perhaps you are looking for profundity. perhaps you are looking for answers.
i'm sorry, but you shall go naught-for-three.
