I feel bad for you son.
Morning walk. The first two were within a quarter block of each other, the third one is evidence of that fact, and the fourth one was just around the corner
I was thinking this morning that I was going to write a story called "I Got 99 Problems But A Bitch Ain't One" and then force my agent to submit it to The New Yorker on my behalf.
I am always thinking up new, fabulously disastrous ways to destroy my career.
Jonny and I have been listening to that song a lot in the car lately. One of his friends from Chicago, Todd, put it on a mix CD. It's two songs after Ace of Bases's "I Saw The Sign," which of course was originally the one that I was playing over and over. But I would forget to hit replay sometimes, so "99 Problems" kept popping up and then I started loving that one too.
I kind of missed that song the first time around (because I am a middle class white chick in her mid-30s who is not a music critic) so I've been enjoying it a lot, just like it's a brand new hit. And then the other day I finally really listened to the lyrics and I turned to Jonny and said, "Oh dear, this is not a very nice song, is it?"
And then he smirked at me.
+++
Paper did a little interview with me in their December/January issue. I've posted a not-that-great scan of it (along with most of the other TKM reviews) over on my other site.
It is nice to have people say kind things about your work. Needless to say the shit reviews are not getting posted, though they are out there.
So in case you were worried if my ego was going to blow up like the Super Bowl blimp, don't worry. The chatter goes both directions with The Kept Man
+++
(12/12/07)