You know you ought to be writing a sitcom about your life for your next writing project.You kill me with this slice of life stuff.Seriously.You ought to just put together a book of random events from your life with your wife giving you shit all the time(and I mean that in the nicest way possible),the day to day of putting kids through school,ballet,gambling,throw in your alien connection,the marathon runs,the dental practice,the artistic endeavors,push hard on the pioneer aspects of what you have done with digital art(get more credit for your efforts like your buddy Gartel) all of it and write it just like you do these e-mails.Very conversational and funny as hell.I think it's fucking great that you are still a dreamer at your age,and I mean no disrespect when I say that.I think with that and your alien connection you could call it "Py in the Sky"or something along those lines.I really think it'd make a great book.
my wife gave me to this morning to decide if we are going to LA for the
run. I come down the stairs to the ktichen. she looks at me, cooking for
the kids (not me), and says, "Well?!"
I respond: "You better find time to go to Costco and get me my 6 pack (of
disposable cameras) and make sure you charge up my iPod (can't run
Then she says, " Well, do you want me to cancel out on the Wilshire
Grand and get the Ramada that's close enough (to the starting line)?"
I said, "NO. I want an expensive place!"
Then no replay from my more practical and bitchy side.
Then I came to work and did 125 pushups to prove I won't drop dead.