Stewart the Rabbit

I just love this little guy: so sweet; so innocent.

So absolutely f**king clueless why all the kiddies are crying.

Good boy!

He's had a fruitful day, by the looks of it. And so have I.

Turns out I'm not insured against stupidity, and corporate clients are so full of BS that sometimes they believe their own publicity.

Vodacom, in other words, has taken a full week to hybridize my script with the original one, bastardize both concepts and then claim ownership of both.

Anyway, let 'em be. At least it seems we might actually make the deadline. And that's enough about work.

No. Wait. It's not.

They also spent my whole morning discussing the thing with me.

And that's enough about work. (I told myself - and you guys - that this isn't the forum, but since I'd already brought it up yesterday, I thought I'd offer you a little bit of closure. Because I know just how much that was bothering you all.)

So, before ES decided to practice her pole-vaulting last night and almost impaled herself on our pallisade, and before I suddenly experienced a huge attack of drowsiness, I wrote a bit. The noble intention was to post something up here for you to gander at.

But then a thought hit me.

Serialisation.

How would you feel about reading a chapter a week? The new one I'm on is called "Lambs of God" - a post-apocalyptic piece based in the Northern Cape. It's conceit: perhaps we don't always put dogs down because we want them to escape the pain. Maybe we do it to escape the pain ourselves.

Being sick, of course, I've replaced the "dog" with "fair-haired, blue-eyed little girl". Thus the whole play on the "Lamb" thing... Sacrificial lamb? Up to you.

Anyway, I intend to rewrite it this evening, as it's incredible how kak thirty cups of coffee makes one's handiwork.

Oh! Before I forget, again... Today's a very good friend's birthday and it almost slipped right beneath the radar.

MW - Happy birthday, Dude.

I got you a bunny.