Had a chat with my agent today, about what sort of project would be best for my financial future. He, in his customarily trenchant fashion, reminded me of the swift approach of the deadline for His Father's Fist, which means it's time to quit fooling around on my blog . . .

It's full-on Caine Mode.

Like the man said:

I know you don't trust me. The beauty is that you don't have to. Nothing I can possibly do will make shit any worse than it is already. Call it my gift to you: the gift of no...