Okay, first off, I did have some fun news this week but I have to postpone until next week but for a very good reason and I swear I’ll tell you next week.
Secondly, you know how earlier this week I wanted to give away four gift cards to Nowhere Bookshop so you could read lovely things? Well, I was just about to randomly pick winners and then I found out that random angels bought Nowhere gift cards and in the comments of the orders asked that we send them out anonymously on their behalf so looks like quite a few of you will be getting emails today with gift codes. I literally got teary when I saw it happening. You guys are magic and I love you.
Thirdly, is the word “thirdly” proper grammar? It looks weird but I still like it.
Fourthly, I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned it here but if you want to watch me have incredibly awkward conversations with authors I love you can go to the Nowhere youtube channel and watch videos of me drinking to much and taking off my hair (for real) while I speak to authors. You can watch the zoom meetings live and participate with the author if you’re in the Fantastic Strangelings Book Club but we try to post them later for all honorary members. Sadly, we lost a few of our favorite interviews because of technical problems with recording when we first started but I think we’ve figured out all the bugs now.
Fifthly, there’s this thing in my backyard that might be a monster. I don’t have a picture of it because it’s too fast but it looks like a squirrel but 25% bigger. It is light tan from nose to navel and black from tush to tail, like if a cat was ombre. It is mean as fuck and doesn’t give a shit about me as it runs up to the baseball sized unripe cantaloupe in my backyard, yanks them off the vine and then puts the cantaloupe in a makeshift pouch that is less marsupial pouch and more just a pocket made of excess belly skin. Like, at first, I thought it was humping the cantaloupes until I realized it was trying to it carry away using its tummy like bad pocket and also it does this WHILE GLARING AT ME, like. “FUCK YOU BITCH WHATCHA GONNA DO ABOUT IT?” I don’t know what it is but I’m never going to get another cantaloupe out of my backyard because I suspect he’s humped all of them by now.
Sixthy, there is no sixthly.