So, it is almost the weekend. As you read this, I am gearing up for a weekend that has Mother's Day as the highlight. Somewhere in there, I will be taking some personal time to reset my brain. I have a writing binge coming up that will see the second Dakota tackled, the seventh DEAD book started, and the second venture into the realm of That Ghoul Ava. To do that, I have to clear my plate of some other projects that are almost done. (One of them is the new +Mark Tufo project...how lucky am I?!) I really am a very lucky person. I always say, the best way to get back at those who doubted you in life is to succeed. I am doing what I love...and surrounded by GREAT people who love me despite all my flaws.
So, without further delay, let me step aside and welcome an old friend back to the blog.
Yo, Vinnie DeSporto here, so listen up. After a bit of a vacation with my gal, Estelle Scarpelli, I got home to a bunch of messages on my answering machine. Imagine my surprise when that writer guy, TW Brown, was asking me to return and share some of my wisdom with his writing weanie friends. At first I thought it was a clever ploy by him to lure me out from my place in da witness protection program...then I realized something...
He ain't that clever.
So, since my thing is sports, I had to think...what could be going on that might be worth talking about? Basketball? Really? Now that LaBum James has basically bankrupted Miami so he could bring home a few titles to a town that has way too many guys walking around in Speedos to actually be considered part of the United States...seriously, it is Cuba with cell phones and old white people mixed in...so what would I talk about in a sport that died with the retirement of Bill Laimbeer? Nothin'!
Baseball? What can you say about a sport where the object seems to be stand in a grassy field, scratch your crotch and spit? Until they start making it legal to clothesline the runner between the bases...I'll pass. Besides...too many stupid bird names.
NASCAR? Wait...drive fast...turn left...drive fast again...repeat. Until Danica Patrick drives in a thong...I ain't watchin'.
I'm waiting for football. I can't wait to see the fans of that stupid bird-named team in Seattle start cryin' when that little squirrel-faced boy who thinks he is a quarterback gets de-cleated. Face it folks...I've dated bigger women.
Now, since I am back and most of you weanies are writers...maybe next time I will roast a few of you. I'm looking at you +Armand Rosamilia...if that is your real name. And what the hell is a +Mark Tufo? Sounds like something that causes feminine itching. And +Suzi M...what, Suzi Twinkie already taken? I hear you got more aliases than a former Gotti family member. (RIP Teflon Don.)
So, until next week...Steppin' on toes in da Rose City...I'm Vinnie DeSporto...in yer face.