It's a sad day, friends, neighbors, and readers. I was just closing everything down to go to bed, and checking my email one last time only to find that Eric Mayer, who I thought was my friend, had sent me a spam email trying to sell me an herbal weight loss drug.

*sniffs*

I'd thought better of you, Eric.

:D

(Just kidding, by the way, all. I mean, I did get an email from an "Eric Mayer", but it included a story, way down at the bottom for those who care, that isn't the caliber of work Eric writes. It has some eep! in it, if you choose to be curious. Believe me when I say I was initially confused for a moment. Does any of this make any sense? I must be really tired.)


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"See? M. But after a while Paul did not notice the Ducky Daddles voice of the typewriter. He could vaguely remember drinking his own piss, how hot it had been, how salty. I'll duck one of the two capsules she gives me every other time she brings them. I was hoping Misery's Child would finally be out in paperback, but no such luck. Enough so he had gone into what she called respiratory depression at least once. ""No! No. Umm. N. Mrs.

It spilled out of his fingers onto the board and then skittered toward the edge. He lay in bed looking at the ceiling, his throat dry and his heart beating fast. He could vaguely remember drinking his own piss, how hot it had been, how salty. He could vaguely remember drinking his own piss, how hot it had been, how salty. It spilled out of his fingers onto the board and then skittered toward the edge. But after a while Paul did not notice the Ducky Daddles voice of the typewriter. I was hoping Misery's Child would finally be out in paperback, but no such luck. He could vaguely remember drinking his own piss, how hot it had been, how salty. I was hoping Misery's Child would finally be out in paperback, but no such luck. He lay in bed looking at the ceiling, his throat dry and his heart beating fast. Enough so he had gone into what she called respiratory depression at least once.

He almost rejected it (was that a faint groan from down there in the sweatshops? But after a while Paul did not notice the Ducky Daddles voice of the typewriter. Because it was that bitter taste which brought the high tide in over the piling. I was hoping Misery's Child would finally be out in paperback, but no such luck. He lay in bed looking at the ceiling, his throat dry and his heart beating fast. He lay in bed looking at the ceiling, his throat dry and his heart beating fast. I was hoping Misery's Child would finally be out in paperback, but no such luck. Enough so he had gone into what she called respiratory depression at least once. Because it was that bitter taste which brought the high tide in over the piling. Enough so he had gone into what she called respiratory depression at least once. But after a while Paul did not notice the Ducky Daddles voice of the typewriter.