Maybe this rant is the product of a five hour energy and a 500ml mexican coca-cola, but I feel like it's been a long time coming. There's something sickeningly bland about Orange County suburbia, it's its own rotten ecosystem, complete with mid-sized sedans and three bedroom houses, women with brown roots and blonde hair, purse dogs, and enough over roasted coffee to parch us into the Apocalypse... word. Writers like Twain battled the bland, broke the barriers of banality, and broadened the breadth to mock ourselves and the world around us. What is life without satire. Inspired by Twain's uninhibited prose I've been certain to add a potent dose of personality into some of my new edits. There's enough PC-bland in the world. And it will go like it always does, my publisher will raise a brow (metaphorically), but put my insanity through the printing press with an exasperated sigh and think they've either approved something horrific or genius, or both. Eh. I'd like to think anyway.
Happy witticisms to you all and a fabulous Thursday!