Name the mountain,
and I will move it.

No matter how old I get, it is still fun to write love letters.

Especially ones chock full of silly, boastful, impossible promises.

Ah, hyperbole. Wherever would I be without you?

Heh. That deserves an ode. An ode to hyperbole.

Meanwhile, back at the hacienda. Renewing my love affair with d20 work with the invitation to do a hardback collection of modules. Heh. Hard to believe someone might actually pay good money for that. Something to consider, at least, after May 31, which is now only 4 months away.

Chop, chop.

Ghost, vampires and blood rites. I love my night job. Hope you do too.


At 6:35 PM, Blogger Jeff LaSala said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

At 6:36 PM, Blogger Jeff LaSala said...

Harley, you are the King of the Night Job.

I, if I may be so bold, am the distant, semi-legitimate cousin of such royalty.

At 10:11 PM, Blogger Marcy said...

How, exactly, does one get to be "semi-legitimate"?

At 12:31 AM, Blogger SnakeOil Sage said...

A drunken sailor's gotta get it on with your mer-mom.


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