Noting my occasional practice of rhetorical overstatement, a good friend referred to me in a recent e-mail as “the Sultan of Screed, the Bishop of Burn.”
God, I could just kiss her.
Michelle of Phlebas would be so proud of me.
The Sultan of Screed
Preterition
glitter in the litterbox
You’re lucky to have such a friend. Honesty is hardly forthcoming from all fronts. Been thinking a lot about pride lately, absorbed as I am in Spenser (and that dumb ole RCK) so not interested in claiming it, but am intrigued; figured you’d forgotten about me and all. I don’t know what I’ll have to do to bury my association with “Phlebas” other than come up w/something better.
As I think the comments over at Clancy’s place indicate, Chel, you’re pretty hard to forget. I’m glad you’re still around and posting comments; I do miss Phlebas, and look forward to the time when you might have the impulse to start blogging somewhere new.