One of these days I’m going to sit and write down everything that has ever happened to me in my life. Then I’ll publish it and it’ll become an international best seller despite weighing in at over 3000 pages and requiring a fork lift to get in your house. Then they’ll turn it into a very special mini-series on ABC or perhaps TNT (cause THEY know DRAMA) which’ll take two weeks to watch and that won’t cover all the crap in the book and they’ll get Jeff Daniels to put on some weight to play my part only nicer than I really am. And then I’ll be rich and happy.
The trouble is, would anyone really believe all the crap I’ve lived through and still managed to keep my sanity and happiness? Who cares as long as they buy the damned book.