So I forgot that editing was a thing. I also forgot that in order to write twenty stories in twenty days, one has to dodge every last lemon or turd that life has to throw at you. I've so far written eleven stories and one poem based on an old story, "The Peeper". I've eight more to write and ideas are stumbling over each other all at once in a gigantic, sweaty, hairy, concept pile.
What I'm basically saying is; yeah, the book is happening. I'm doing it with my fingers as we speak. I just jumped a wild horse when I said I'd have it out by the 12th of February. Rookie mistake. It's nearly done though. I'm sitting here right now, at exactly 07:23 AM, trying to figure out how to end a story called "Beware the Disco Mutants".
Here's Brian Pillman, looking all crazy and shit.