Post Sixty-Six: My Route 66.

I've recently committed myself to slogging out my days in the mortuary for another couple of years at least. You know why?

You made me.

And to think the blog idea was born on Australia Day, floating on a water noodle in the pool whilst consuming my body weight in sausages, lamingtons and a toxic punch... (Thanks Gus for the initial brainstorm and your instigation of enthusiasm, I owe you.)

I have dreams of writing a book. Not a normal book chaptery book, but a scrap book of cartoons, art, diary entries and short stories about death and life and music and, well, fun things. Cool huh.

I also want to meet Kerri Anne Kennerly. Maybe also Ellen De Generes. Just Saying. It could happen.

Oh, and from any money I make I want to drive around America looking at petrol stops, eating hotdogs, washing dishes, playing mediocre music and...well...writing for you.

This is my wish, and this is my intention.

Peace x