A word on the green book...

Was going to post this to the blog in question, but it's more about me than it is about the guides.

I have started a book. They made me. They kept on and on and on until I started this damn book. In vain did I protest that they already had a weblog. In vain did I protest that I'm trying to work on my fiction, poetry, and travel writing. They want a book as well. So the other day I went out to the art /stationary/bookshop and they picked out a notepad. No, they couldn't make do with any old notepad. It had to be a special notepad. And the special green pen.

Then I went and sat in the caff across the way with my green pen and my special book, while Spooky Pervert M-L spent about three quarters of an hour dictating to me.

Five pages.

And it's all about goats.

Goats.

I had a little chat with them in the same cafe yesterday, wherein they chided me gently about not writing a bit more often. Goats, that's why! Goats! Everyone else has proper spirit guides, who bang on about being Evolved and on Higher Planes. Everyone else gets told about their Past Lives on Atlantis and shit. What do I get? GOATS! I mean, who needs Gematria when you can be COMPLETELY AND TOTALLY INCOMPREHENSIBILE in plain English?