Huddle 'round, kids. I have a pleasant surprise for your unkempt attention.
   
   As of two o'clock this morning... I am a published author. Memo for my former mindset: "Fare thee well, ne'er-
do-well!" Bereave it, bitches.

   For six months I have been writing, editing, and spawning fragments into a fancy 220-page, perfect bound
book (6x9in, in fact). The ethereality is setting in, folks. I just can't believe it. My name in actual print, man. I am
a goddess. I am the Buddha of self-actualization. I am my own publisher, people. At One Hundred Henries all
your dizziest day dreams are just possibly a reality. (Yours too if you so fancy writing. Go to Lulu.com and
publish something, dammit.)

   I just don't know how to explain this exquisite pleasure I am feeling right now, because at this moment I am
feeling the happiest in my life. Just think it, folks. And for this occasion I'm going to tick off everything I am happy
about...right...now.
  
   I'm living with a great family. I have a job. I am in taekwondo. I am running every other day now. I just dyed
my hair cherry red on Monday. I am a published author. I am going to see They Might Be Giants two times
within the same year. My sister is out of hell and is living with my mother now. (She's safe and sound, folks!) I
am doing well in school. I am running my own website. I am able to keep up with my friends. I am more
independent now than I ever have been. I am three-quarters of the way to completing the first draft of my first
full-length novel! And for once (FOR ONCE) I am not absolutely batty about men.

   But these are not the points I have sought after for so long in this singular article.

   My book, entitled LEAD BASED, is a collection of fifty poems written over an emotional high and low six
months. These are fifty individual poems ready to establish their author into an archaic literary world. No fillers,
no substitutes, no artificial preservatives of the metaphysical kind. They are obscure, they are different, they
are so damn grand. Man, it feels so good to be free of my aching mind and the creative community's
fundamentalist decorum!

   Check on up on the fuss fuss fuss at Lulu.com, folks! Ta-dah.


   
(Forget not to READ and EXHALE.)