Eight Thirty

Eight thirty this morning, I was in my study typing away. Kurt Vonnegut's death had a profound effect on me last week. It's made me reassess what I do. I've come to the conclusion that it's about time I used my energies more productively and began to write up my experiences in Welsh thongdom. You needn’t worry. I’m not going to bore you with them here. They’re going into the novel I’ve decided to write. It’s why I’ve been quiet for the last week. I’ve written fifteen thousand words that would Jackie Collins blush. It’s been quite liberating, chronicling my early on the stripping circuit. I see it as the ‘Slaughterhouse 5’ of exotic dancing.

Since I’ve decided to direct all my storytelling energies into that private work, I’ve decided to be less long winded here. I’m still struggling to understand what blogging is about. I know I should limit myself to four hundred words for every post. It’s about as much as I can write in one sitting and probably as much as you can read.

Later today, I’ll also be beginning what I hope will be a regular feature. I’ll be awarding my 'Thong of Excellence' to a blog, blogger, or blog post, that has caught my eye this week. It’s my way of saying thank you to some of the blogs I enjoy reading and which give me some pleasure during the long hours between performances.