Puppets and pieces, October 13th

Some of you have been asking where Angry Puppet has been the past few months. Angry Puppet doesn't really have a good answer to that. Mostly he's been "working" on his autobiography (read: picking his teeth with the corner of his Moleskine). Unfortunately, every time Angry Puppet conjures up what he thinks is a winning turn of phrase, it turns out to be lifted straight from Leaves of Grass. Curses, Walt Whitman! I'll sing your body electric if it's the last thing I do.

Anyway.

For the rest of this blog entry, Angry Puppet vows to refer to himself in the first person only.

I'm disappointed my autobiography hasn't written itself as quickly as I thought it would. But, you know, whatevah. I have bigger fish to fry these days. For starters, I met a girl. That's right, we go on dates and everything. She's a hot piece of puppet ass, if I may be so bold. I also turfed all my Moroccan cookware and in order to concentrate on the gastro-molecular sciences, a la Heston Blumen-thing. Shoot, I may even release a cook book. 

On a more frivolous note, I am also endeavouring to grow a sincerely staunch moustache this Movember. If anyone wishes to act as a sponsor, please drop me a line.

Much love,

A. Puppet

xo