freelancing would make a good name for a porn about a medieval gigolo who doesn’t charge

I’ve been wanting to REALLY get into freelance writing for a while now.

Scratch that. I’ve been wanting people to pay me to write the kind of stuff I am already writing.

And I want them to tell me I’m pretty.

People haven’t gotten the memo apparently.

But you want to know what I’m doing right now? (If you say “no,” this is going to be a pretty short post.)

In addition to wondering if this rain is going to necessitate ark-building of any kind, I am writing.

And getting paid to do it.

I don’t mean this post. I am actually doing some writing for a company.

Even better, they are paying me to be funny.

[I just took a writing break to Skype dance with Ashley. I think we’ve established that I most certainly do not have moves like Jagger.]

So, yeah, these cats are paying me to write jokes.

Take that grade school teachers who told me I wasn’t going to make money being a smart ass!

They want me to write jokes, so writing jokes I am.

And because I’m me, I’m throwing in bonus material that they can’t possibly use. You know, for legal reasons. And a little because it would start some kind of international incident.

It’s pretty fun. But not so fun that they should stop paying me. I can’t stress that enough.

So I should get back to it.

 

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