Mourning
I haven't been blogging because I'm still weak from the Cubs series. But now I'm regaining strength, and what do I do when I become stronger? I focus my "chi" on deserving foes, exposing their weaknesses and dragging them out of their beds in the pajamas onto the street for their nightly beatings. Really.

James Patterson's envious doppleganger has provided an update on his latest work (of fiction, allegedly), in which he admits to (allegedly) killing off an (alleged) character whose sole (alleged) purpose was to (allegedly) die in the first (alleged) place. Allegedly. Well. This seems like the mother of all spoilers to me. I mean, the book ain't even done yet, and already we know that some ass-clown will be getting killed right around 62,000 words? Moreover, we know that at least one of the "main" characters is just a red shirt (Star Trek lingo for nameless crewmember who escorts the away team and gets killed every time), so why get invested in the characters at all? Okay, I'm just joking around on that one. I'm actually curious when I read the book (allegedly) if I can spot the character by page 2 (hint on reading Jaquandor's stuff: any character who has a discernable permutation of the name "Matthew Jones" is sure to suffer a fool's death).

It's about here that I would hear the gripe that I haven't written anything in a long time so should just let sleeping dogs lie (alert -- I have compared a childhood friend to a dog). However, this doesn't matter for I have created this world and in this world in which I am meglomaniacally insane (natch) Jaquandor has been created for the express purpose of dying at 75,000 words. Luckily for him I am pretty lazy these days. Now go off and enjoy life's wonderful gift of life. Life, that is. Allegedly.