In the meantime, I emailed the editor of the journal with the
following apology:
"Dear Sasha,
Thank you again so much for considering me for your huge and awesome journal - it is my total, fart-smelling honour to be even on the periphery of your super-accomplished, academic radar. To imagine that I one day may be considered by 3 or 4 other people in the world as your intellectual peer frankly gives me substantial quantities of wood. However, please note that it is fast-approaching midnight in Greenland which was my final deadline for my eagerly awaited, third article submission. My soul has gone into this work and I strongly believe that it will likely represent my legacy after I die, which may very well be quite soon. I've done hoop-jumping for the day, and I really need a lie down now - plus the missus is bitchin' like crazy - like I imagine yours does constantly when you're trying to draft your little notes about how the rest of us can get our writing styles to pass muster with those nazis you have working with you in your quality control department there. So, in short, this opus isn't winging its way to you right now. It looks like I won't be able to track down that odious book you mentioned. Later dude, hope the golf is going well. Prf Gonzo."
Thank you again so much for considering me for your huge and awesome journal - it is my total, fart-smelling honour to be even on the periphery of your super-accomplished, academic radar. To imagine that I one day may be considered by 3 or 4 other people in the world as your intellectual peer frankly gives me substantial quantities of wood. However, please note that it is fast-approaching midnight in Greenland which was my final deadline for my eagerly awaited, third article submission. My soul has gone into this work and I strongly believe that it will likely represent my legacy after I die, which may very well be quite soon. I've done hoop-jumping for the day, and I really need a lie down now - plus the missus is bitchin' like crazy - like I imagine yours does constantly when you're trying to draft your little notes about how the rest of us can get our writing styles to pass muster with those nazis you have working with you in your quality control department there. So, in short, this opus isn't winging its way to you right now. It looks like I won't be able to track down that odious book you mentioned. Later dude, hope the golf is going well. Prf Gonzo."
I'm still waiting
to hear back as Greenland is on a different timeline, so they have go up yet, I
imagine.
I'll certainly let
you all have a copy when it's published.
Anyway, must crack
on...daylight's a burning.
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4 comments:
I was on my way to tell you how much I hate you Bencorde, when you removed your audacious post. I still hate you, Bencorde.
I really don't know what to say. I'm completely out of my depth here. I can understand the vaporization of Calor gas but the valoration of crazy golf defeats me.I didn't even know there was a price fixing issue.I avoid it like the plague anyway Why should I pander to the whim of some jerk who thinks if he devises enough ways to make you tear your hair out at maximum cost it can somehow afford pleasure.If I was tempted I'd use my own clubs. Take that hole in the wall for instance. If you hit the ball at the statutory gentle pace that is conducive to public safety, it'll never go through. The camber is deliberately slanted to prevent it.How fair is that? The only way is to smash it as if you were on a full 18 holer and hope nobody's on the receiving end when it exits through the new hole it creates on the way through.The same applies for those 'rebound'holes. Much easier to take out the back board with a 1 iron and collect a single new ball penalty rather than a sixteen and still trying when the others have all moved on.Likewise the gradient onto the upturned blancmange mould.Use the velcro ball for this one.A useful tip if any of this appeals to your Libra sense of balancing the scales a bit - make sure there's an 'alternative' exit before starting or create one with wire cutters. Aside from this the whole tone of the article is so heavily steeped in bile and sarcasm it's hard to see the wood for the trees. Perhaps this explains the reference to substantial quantities of wood.
I wonder what Sasha's like in bed?
I wonder what Sasha will think while reading your missive and understand you were being dismissive, all the while being succinct and refined, as you generally are. Happy Holidays Charles,bill
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