From the files of the Wellingtonienne: I’m excited to be back after my hiatus. Blogging on Sunday when the newsroom is empty is the coolest. My roman a clef SHE SOLD HER SOUL is writing itself thanks to my horrible boss Concetta ( that’s not her real name. wink, wink.) Anyhoo, it turns out that C can’t find five million emails she wanted to use in her divorce proceedings…Mr. C is still in Cleveland because of the snow…double yuck.
I’m pretty sure I’ll hired by Gawker and then have a three book deal in time for Cinquo de Mayo. Yay! After like three weeks of trying I almost gave up being a writer! Stick with it you guys!
Well, I have to finish an article about the Satire Moratorium which between you and me is long overdue. Wait, I mean the moratorium, not the article. Aren’t these dangling modifiers just the bee’s knees? I think they are. Ciao.
PS: Wow, I just found two million emails in the refrigerator right here in the employee lounge. Thank goodness for Tupperware! TW.