Down at the Slaughterhouse
Interestingly enough, I was approached by several people recently to write a series of childrens’ stories. Let us disregard, for the moment, at least, that they were imaginary (both the stories and the people . . . which brings us to the question of whether anyone other than myself is actually real. No, I don’t even want to think about that right now . . . I need someone to blame things on!). I thought it a splendid idea, quite capital really. SPLENDID. It does not get much more capital than that. Thus, Splice, the pig, was born. Splice in Chinatown. Splice goes Bowling. And my personal favorite, Down at the Slaughterhouse: Splice’s Last Stand. Available in fine bookstores near you (or perhaps on my site, if I ever finish writing the stories).
Since Lils keeps pestering me to finish Rainbow Bear, and Mr. Feczyk, the Cranky Rooster, it may be a while before I get to Splice. Sigh . . . anyway, today’s updates are fairly minor. I have a new quote, and finally decided to post a piece on peace. I don’t really like the peace piece, thinking that it is a piece of junk, but my notebooks are buried under too much junk, so it was all I had handy. If you don’t like it, either send suggestions to improve it, or piss off. Dang, I am cranky this morning.
