So over at my other blog, I talked about what I'm going to be doing in November.
Writing a 50,000 word NOVEL, WIENERS*. I mean, God willing. You can go read about what the hell I can possibly be thinking about by clicking here.
The upshot of this foolhardy endeavor is that The Gallivanting Monkey will not have the usual daily spate of up-to-the-minute reports for which it has become world-famous. (World-famous, I tell you! My stat counter tells me that I have visitors stopping by from such far-flung places as Egypt, Germany and Uzbekistan for up to 5 seconds at a time in search of* milk-inflated bosoms.) (Yes. Hope springs eternal for some dude in Germany. Herr Boobmann, keine boobs, zum hier zu sehen. Bewegen Sie entlang, okay? Bye-bye.)
*Now I'm going to be getting a bunch of visits from people in search of novel wieners. "What a novel wiener you have there, my good man. Positively groundbreaking!"
Does this mean that there will be a whole month of no new content on this blog? Friends, it does not. In between now and next Wednesday, I am going to try and bust out a few posts to scatter through the month for you. I'll write them now, and then toss 'em up here and there. And now and then I might pop on here and tell how you great or terrible I am at writing a novel.
Okay. I'm going right now to write some posts for you. When I post them, they'll all show up under whatever date I wrote the draft*, rather than the date they actually appear here. So don't be checking the date for freshness. These babies are going to be fresh to YOU.
Speaking of babies, here's the top of Finn's head:
See? That's all it takes for me. Man, it doesn't take much. He's got this little plastic lobster teething toy that he loves, with a little cartoon face. The fact that Finn loves it makes it a sacred object of great tenderness for me. I looked at it lying next to me on the couch the other night and had a brief boo-hoo on the spot.