Riiiight...who is this really?

At the dinner table the other day, one of the residents was wearing what could only be described as a COSBY SWEATAH. I asked him if he was familiar with Bill Cosby, and he wasn't, but neither was the coordinator who would have had much more opportunity to encounter him. And when I said that he was an American comedian, he took cheap shots, "There is such a thing?" It stung a little, because, I mean, you just don't take cheap shots at Bill Cosby, but also because he had absolutely no idea who he was, and that would never happen with someone his age down to mine in America. Being somewhere that doesn't know how they should say "Jell-o pudding pops" suddenly feels very lonely.

NaNoWriMo 2010 Day 7

I'm way behind on word count, and it took me three days to work out the Rube Goldberg device, but I finally killed the evil governor. Now I just have to get my main character down from the top of a burning fortress and introduce the evil governor's flamboyant brother, who is, of course, the real villain in this story. I don't really like my writing, but this year I have a lot better stuff that I can edit into the story taht I want to write when I'm not racing for word count.