Don’t forget, my beautiful babies, tomorrow evening I’ll be in Manhattan entertaining the masses with my silky voice, rapier wit, and tendency of my pants to drop at inexplicable moments. You’d think it would be easy to have your pants drop on cue like you’re in a Marx Brothers short film, but you’d be wrong. It has taken my team of scientists decades to perfect it.
I don’t know exactly what I’ll be reading yet; I’m going to see where the mood takes me. So you might get a blast of The Digital Plague, or maybe a preview of The Eternal Prison (now with more unicorn), or maybe something unexpected and possibly undesired. Who knows! It’s like a wild pantsless ride of wonder.
Come on by and say hey. I’ll be the drunk, sweaty guy hiding in the shadows.