This bit cracked me up out of all proportion to its tiny little size.

Warning: the bit makes full use of the language, so if you're easily offended, you big baby, you should probably move on. There, that should pretty much guarantee that you'll click over.

Six billion of us and counting -- not to mention the countless other species with whom we share this precious planet -- and still we struggle with loneliness. Giant radiotelescopes point plaintively to the heavens, listening for reassuring evidence of extraterrestrial companionship from someone, anyone, green or otherwise.

Remember what I said about how this site was supposed to be all about pimping the book?

It's a miracle; my book is now available at Barnes & Noble.com. That blew my mind because for months I had looked and looked to see if my book was going to be available there before I finally gave up. I checked today, though, and there my book was. What are you waiting for, permission? Buy a dozen; they make great gifts.

So now, on top of walking around with a general feeling of failure, I also have to walk around with a specific feeling of failure because I can't even manage running my own website. Great.

Damn it, I can't get the mail thing to work correctly. Sorry if you've been trying.

Originally, only registered users were going to be able to leave comments on the various blogs or contact us via e-mail, you know, to keep the hoods and/or thugs from leaving lame stuff here or in my e-mail.

Rock and roll, fuckers.

I started this site to whore my book.

I'm down with small presses and I'm really down with Brooklyn.