No Bog Blog.
Just so freakin' happy.
Christmas is OVER. OVER. OVER. Bwaaa, haaa. Ha.
Now back to the drudgery of attempting to make money at being an actor/puppeteer/writer/director.
If I may advise you for a moment. Don't become solely one thing. Actor-Electrician. Director-Olive Garden Host. Puppeteer - Face painting clown or maybe the mystical Actor/Winery Guide/Sexgod. I may have to adjust this one to Writer - Coffee house guy - trophy husband. Also, which format do you like better? - or /? Also, do you believe that Writer / Coffee house guy is too ironic or has the irony become cliche?
I only half jest. About the split jobs. Not about the formatting issues.
So, I have set myself a goal of writing for at least 15 minutes per day. This will cut into valuable Facebook time and I may cross post a few things or, or, simply start to ignore the Time Whore (AKA: Facebook.) and preach here on this most sacred of space. My blog site.
As no one ever comes to it. It is the most pristine and holy of spaces I know.
I'm also not going to bog myself down with a lot of editing. No Bog on this Blog (tm). This is to incite comments from my fan. When I get one. Some time soon.
Also I have kids and editing is a luxury that I likely don't have or cannot be given, as they suck up a lot of time (kids and editing both. OR What you will. Shakespeare Rolls Over.). And that's fine. I'm practicing the period. Here's another. I don't have time for periods. Wow. Sorry, I digress. Or(egon) regress. Or/and I'm still thinking about the formatting jobs thing that will never be solved. Continuing with main content. I like chicken. No, main. I have become at home with the lack of time to do those things I want. They are moot as I have children and, guess what, I what to be around them while they still want to be around me. So, I will die. Cold. Alone and with out a single period to my face-painting clown ways
Christmas is OVER. OVER. OVER. Bwaaa, haaa. Ha.
Now back to the drudgery of attempting to make money at being an actor/puppeteer/writer/director.
If I may advise you for a moment. Don't become solely one thing. Actor-Electrician. Director-Olive Garden Host. Puppeteer - Face painting clown or maybe the mystical Actor/Winery Guide/Sexgod. I may have to adjust this one to Writer - Coffee house guy - trophy husband. Also, which format do you like better? - or /? Also, do you believe that Writer / Coffee house guy is too ironic or has the irony become cliche?
I only half jest. About the split jobs. Not about the formatting issues.
So, I have set myself a goal of writing for at least 15 minutes per day. This will cut into valuable Facebook time and I may cross post a few things or, or, simply start to ignore the Time Whore (AKA: Facebook.) and preach here on this most sacred of space. My blog site.
As no one ever comes to it. It is the most pristine and holy of spaces I know.
I'm also not going to bog myself down with a lot of editing. No Bog on this Blog (tm). This is to incite comments from my fan. When I get one. Some time soon.
Also I have kids and editing is a luxury that I likely don't have or cannot be given, as they suck up a lot of time (kids and editing both. OR What you will. Shakespeare Rolls Over.). And that's fine. I'm practicing the period. Here's another. I don't have time for periods. Wow. Sorry, I digress. Or(egon) regress. Or/and I'm still thinking about the formatting jobs thing that will never be solved. Continuing with main content. I like chicken. No, main. I have become at home with the lack of time to do those things I want. They are moot as I have children and, guess what, I what to be around them while they still want to be around me. So, I will die. Cold. Alone and with out a single period to my face-painting clown ways
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