“I’m going to write the best book. The book that makes them turn their Fucking toes. Causes them to say, Woops! We Got That One A Tad Whisker Wrong, Didn’t We? Yeah you Fucking did. It won’t be normal because it can’t be normal. There’ll be errors, or at least seen-to-be errors. And there’ll be error – strewn characters; characters who will reach out of the page and aid my getting away with said errors in a crazy, high – octane manner. Too quick to realise even. Turn the whole thing upon its head, make Hunter S. implode down below. In the grave, I mean, not his pants. He’d love that sure. And the illustrations will sit on the opposed page, dangle their feet and smile like the fattest Cheshire. The words matter for meaning and appearance. That’s art. I see it weird, know I do. See this rum here, there’ll be ten of them soon as that great book makes it past those suit – wearing cyunts wedged by desks who cannot even begin to string their imagination together. And they get to choose!? What the Fuck. I choose to mix it up big time. Know my favourite word? Groundbreaker. Get oh so comfortable and Ground Break The Sheeeat Outta It. I haven’t even begun to begin… began to— ooh. Argh! Fail Good? I’ll fail ’til failing’s the new black. The punctuation will be catching up with me at the end. Go on, Mark My Words. Literally if needs be. When you feel it You Just Fucking Feel It. Like Reilly says, Simples.”

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