Road Cubed

 

Found this while commenting on a Cormac McCarthy thread over on Tumblr. Hey, I thought it was funny. And although I consider Jack Kerouac about 1/10th the writer that McCarthy is (not to mention about 187% more useless) they can both be self-indulgent pricks which is surely at least a kissing-cousin-thin relationship.

October now -- so according to the calendar I'm due to get older before too long unless (as it says on the reminder I have set in Google calendar, which is the only way I ever remember it) I'm dead, in which case never mind. At any rate a new month or maybe a new year or decade depending on how one counts this sort of thing to get some more writing posted. Which of course is all I've been waiting for to bust loose.

Yeah, that's what's been hanging me up -- hah!