J. Alfred Prufrock, T.S. Eliot – and me

Ok… here’s the deal. I woke up this morning, looked at what you said on my blog. I made a decision to delete the blog because my motives were exactly as you have described, ill-fated, not prepared properly, with “good intention” and absolutely ***zero*** direction.

I will request your services, humbly and without reservation — whatsoever. That being said, I have a feeling we’ve met before. Perhaps Authonomy. Perhaps through another editor and ghost writer, whom I love with everything that I can even perceive about love. “Irregardless” (inserting a guffaw here) — you came to my special plate holding a Louisville Slugger. Oddly, or perhaps miraculously, you created this site at exactly the same time I created mine. So, what’s up with that, huh?

Sign me up, dude. Yeah, I love Lebowski, too. Hockey? Not so much… FFS. Christ, you could have written “Dogma”, for all I know. We’ll find out.

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