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[Sep. 5th, 2009|01:34 pm] |
Something about life here is a little like being a ghost, or a cockroach: you can go wherever you like without a passport or papers of any kind, and nobody arrests you, though sometimes you end up in a gutter or garbage can.
I was a ghost for a little while, once, after one of my bodies died. It was rather unnerving. Anyway, I have gone back to my old ways, writing for my bread, literally.
France didn't care for me much but Dublin has me doing well enough. I tried to sell my column called A Bug's Life but some bloke named Iger tried to sue me - copyright infringement or unlicensed use of trademarked... something.
I am trying to think of a new name... |
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[Aug. 31st, 2009|04:34 pm] |
Who would ever have thought that the only way I'd finally be human again would be thanks to an atmospheric disturbance?
It is SO WONDERFUL to be able to use capital letters and punctuation...! |
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