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Naming your price in the beginning was always good advice when it came to one’s life work, but we scribblers do it for free. Compensation comes in the sharing. If it ever gets more lucrative than the price we settled for initially, beware. Check six.

I just love writing. It’s a bit like stand-up comedy. Magic, almost, when we think and write something, and a couple of readers nod or perhaps smirk. Write something else and they get it again, you’re addicted. That’s when folks are participating not just reading.

I guess we scribblers need some outlet or avenue to say what we have to say. Catharsis? Maybe.

We’re okay with failing so long as we know that there are people around us that care for us unconditionally.

It’s the finding out who we are that’s in some large part why we do this. The world sure as hell can’t tell us who we are. We just got to figure that out regardless of how crappy things are getting around us, for better or worse.

I knew I and my writing were doing something right when people much older than me back when I was kid liked and encouraged me in what I thought, wrote, or said out loud. Some even laughed in spite of themselves.

The hardest thing to do these days is to be true to yourself when writing, especially when everybody is watching and ready to pounce upon, cancel or worse yet charge you under some vague as hell interpretation of the Uniform Code of Military Justice.

Any piece of thought I have edited and readied for launch via email for me is like a place or country I’ve been touring and I’m inviting others to join me for free. I’m picking up their tab.

For many writers, being called crazy was beyond insulting when we were growing up. It was the ultimate dismissive thing to say. None of those who so judged us had considered whether life, home, environment, etc was making us this way — sorta a little sick in their minds — and that to the contrary we might be strong not weak. In today’s age, it’s hip thing to say that — almost a badge of honor for the accused to wear around the neck hanging from a light blue-sky colored ribbon. Hell, do those who thus proclaimed us have some superpower or are their faces and eyes so close that they can see inside of our souls?

In confclusion I want to say:

· I ain’t rich and surely NOT famous.

· W and I are vaccinated X a bunch and got the original classic COVID in January 2020 at a Chinese soup dumpling joint served by mainland Chinese college students. W got the BA.5 variant this month. It was no fun, but Paxlovid worked like a “magic bean.” So, it seems that we got the 3rd best vaccine option — the one homeless people got in Asia and Africa. We are the Lebron James of COVID — change locales, get a ring.

· My pronouns are the classic ones I grew up with. BTW what do you mean “your people?” GMAFB.

· I am not gonna stop writing other funny, odd or stupid stuff about me, us, and you until we all are sure that we are laughing together. Ain’t got the time or inclination. Screw this self-image BS masturbation. Having fun but no drama are my truce terms.

· Crossing lines is crucial to finding out where they are.

· We all know the Biblical injunction, “Let he who is without sin, cast the first rock.” Whom I want to meet is the dude who responded from the rear pews, “I shall smoketh it.” Mighty nice comeback that I may very well borrow.

· Why are so many youths of today choosing to make the leap from unfamous to infamous? Am I callous to say that?

· Why is cursing off limits on the news but “disturbing” video is not? Maybe it’s beyond me because I’m not longer young and crisp.

· Let us entertain each other.

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