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Sorry for our poor attendance record around here lately.  As usual, s.z. has a good excuse for her absence, while I have a crappy, selfish one, delivered via a badly forged note.

As s.z. has mentioned in the past, she has a chronic medical condition that, when active, leaves her exhausted and in a good deal of pain.  And unfortunately, the Condition has been in full swing for the last couple of weeks, which means she’s been getting only a couple hours of sleep a night (and none at all the other night, when Zigra was rocketing from one end of the house to the other, propelled by a recordbreaking bout of explosive diarrehea).  Despite being literally sick and tired, when her church asked that she assume the burden of visiting and taking meals to a local woman suffering from breast cancer, she unhesitatingly agreed.

And as the delightful cherry on top of that cake, her computer also seems to have developed a chronic medical condition, and invariably flatlines the instant it’s hooked up to the Internet.  So s.z. hasn’t been able to log on long enough to read the blog, let alone post, but she was deeply touched when I told her about all of the birthday greetings and offers of penis enlargement that were left in the comments, and wanted me to convey her thanks to everyone.

I, on the other hand, have not been busy comforting the sick, nor have I been cleaning up after a cat that treats the living room walls the way Jackson Pollock would treat a canvas if he were a German scat fetishist who’d just eaten a bad plate of  Schneckensuepple. I’m just buried with work at the moment — pages due (actually, overdue) Thursday on a commissioned script, and on Friday I’ve got a pitch meeting at Spike TV.  (I’ve retooled my Regency-era drama, Of Pantaloons and Popinjays to better appeal to Spike’s demographic by adding more action — in the pilot, the third act climaxes with a scuffle outside Westminster Abbey over the issue of trousers versus knee-britches.  At the moment, it’s mostly gout-ridden, middle-aged men knocking each other’s wigs askew with walking sticks, but I’m hoping to work in a sword cane; I figure that would make the series the perfect lead-in to UFC Ultimate Fight Night.)

Anyway, sorry for the echoey, sepulchral-like quality of the place.  We’re hoping things will start getting back to normal next week.  And in the meantime, thanks for your patience.

17 Responses to “Please Stand By…”

Pantaloons and Popinjays sounds just wonderful! Can’t wait to see it. Pray tell, do you think the Deciderer in Chief might lend you The Mighty Codpiece of Victory, the one he wore when he declared Mission Accomplished, seeing as you’re doing a costume drama just like he is???

Best of luck, Scott, but my suspicion is that Spike is not gonna spring for subtitling.

Oh man, standing by and waiting here – long as it takes! Thank you Scott, and I for one cannot wait for “Pantaloons and Popinjays” – SpikeTV version. I’m sort of ashamed to admit this, but I’m addicted to CSI which Spike obligingly shows every night at just the right time after work. That and the James Bond marathons are the only reason to tune in to that network. Your show just might redeem them! Love to S.Z. and the critters.

Get well soon, S.Z.!

so why don’t y’all set up a paypal button for a new computer fund for s.z.? as many laughs as I get from here I’d consider it a worthy investment

What preznit says. Seriously.

Take care of yourself, S.Z. No hurry on the snark; I wouldn’t be able to bring myself to watch some of those movie suggestions while feeling okay, let alone while I was miserable to begin with.

And Scott, boobies. Spike is more interested in T&A than in wardrobe,unless it’s the sort of wardrobe you find onstage at a strip club at the end of the night.

Real life and blogging don’t go well together all the time. Thanks for keeping us posted! I know I’d be happy to help out financially if needed. Kittens don’t feed themselves! Well, they can, but they really shouldn’t.

Mercy, mercy me.

Okay, S.Z., now listen (or convey the listening to her for me, Scott): If you need a nursemaid, you need to holler at me. And soon. ‘Cause if you want me to fly up there in the pickup, I need to do it before I do the back surgery.

And damn if I couldn’t slip that cat some tranquilizers while I’m at it, missy.

You need anything, you holler, k? Or pinch Scott on the butt until he hollers.

Love to all, and congrats on the Spike pitch, Scott — beyond T&A and cane-sword fights, you might also want to throw in some Jackie Chan outtakes and some good clips of the General Lee jumping some lovely road-construction sites.

You’ll be a shoo-in!

(And try not to stick to historical dialogue or anything approaching historical accuracy — that’ll just make ‘em nod-off like heroin junkies in church.)

Don’t you understand anything about comedy writing, scott? It would have been much funnier if it had been Jet Jaguar who was the poop-propelled pootie. And don’t give me any of that “reality-based community” bullshit, either. *snort* “Reality-based,” feh!

Oh, and I hope s.z. is feeling less under-teh-weather soon.

I don’t often post here, but I check WoC everyday. I don’t mind y’all taking a break, but please don’t close the place down.

I’d also second preznit’s suggestion.

So that’s what Dr.E looks like. Did Kim Jong Il steal his haircut from him or was it vis versa?

Get well soon s.z. We miss you. And what pgmt said about the new computer fund. You know I’d be there.

And Scott, what Ms Sidhe said…

Shame on these liberal elitist churches who send their flock out to attend to the needs of fellow churchgoers with cancer, when they really ought to be organizing childish civil disobedience stunts at hospitals hundreds of miles away where brain dead patients are being disconnected from life support.

I don’t understand. Where’s Fafnir?

Of Pantaloons and Popinjays

On Spike?

Better throw a ninja in there, and maybe some half-nekkid boobies, son. Or maybe just have a lot of beer…

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