How are we all? Good? Good! I, too, am good. More than good, in fact. I have decided to whip myself into shape. I took up Pilates! I don't even know what Pilates fucking is, but it's doing wonders -- just look at me, I'm glowing like a pregnant woman!
Anyhoo. Dramatic physical transformations aside, Angry Puppet has been beavering away at a new project. You'll love this one. IT'S MY AUTOBIOGRAPHY! Heheh.. beavering.
My autobiography is expected to hit the shelves just before Christmas this year. The working title is SEX: The Angry Puppet Story. My PR team came up with the title. They told me sex sells. Eyeroll! Oh fucking well. Ridiculous title or not, SEX: The Angry Puppet Story will map my metamorphosis from forgotten youngest child in a family of seven (or nine? I'm not sure), to my rising star as an eccentric poet/songwriter, blogger and literary stalwart, A-list party boy, and eventual revered cult hero. I can guarantee it will be uncensored, uncut, shocking and mildly exploitative. No detail will go unwritten! Especially that chapter about my recurring skin mycoses (athlete's foot, jock itch, ringworm ... you name it, Angry Puppet's had it).
It will be Angry Puppet as you have never seen him before, AND, may I also point out, there will be no ghost writers!!! Angry Puppet is writing the thing 100% himself from cover to cover. Angry Puppet abhors ghost writers! Angry Puppet says "NO" to ghost writers! However, to ghost busters, ghost dogs, ghost trains and the movie Ghost, Angry Puppet says "YES"!
Okay, I must get back to it. I'm in the middle of the chapter where I talk about my chance encounter with Dr Phil, and how it made me question my belief in the necessity of surnames. Love you's all. Over and out.
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