One blond got gone, while the other blond got bald.
Ah, the stories of Anna and Britney. The stories have been hashed and rehashed and hash browned.
Fart jokes are becoming more entertaining...oh, whatever...fart jokes have always been entertaining. Please.
Granted, I am stuck inside my Entertainment Weekly reading about celebrities and popular culture, but it isn't so much their lives that I enjoy reading about, it's the behind-the-scenes of the creative process.
The ewwy, gooey mess of how people create, dive into their writing, create scenes and what critics think about those end products. I find it good food for the muse, and my muse can use every last bit of it. Remember, he was a heroine addict.
Things have lightened, safe to say. He's picked up alcohol more fervently than he used to, but I'd rather that than 'shrooms any day. His sense of humor is definitely funnier -- plus, you never know what he's going to say. I enjoy that kind of spontaneity. He often shocks the hell of out people making them all "I can't believe you said that," and I just tip back in my chair laughing insanely. He can still get away with acting like that. I, however, cannot.
He's lubed up the novel that's been an ongoing process and for the first time in years, there's a light at the end of the tunnel. I also held a gun to his head and told him that if it wasn't finished in the first half of 2007 (preferably July) then he wasn't going to live to see the next novel, and he needs to see it, because it will make him famous.
But on the upside, he's helped me pick out a few novels that have been fabuloso: see Stephen King's "Lisey's Story" and Audrey Niffenager's "The Time Traveler's Wife". I am currently listening to "To Kill A Mockingbird" on audio book. He must think that good books will deter my promise to off him.