Rick Crowley is in the house!

I've blogged about my old writing partner before, wondering why the funniest people on the planet have to move on to stupid things like marriage and children instead of spending their damned time amusing me like they're supposed to. Well, as far as I know, Rick Crowley is not about to leave his stupid wife and kid (hi, Sha! love you!), but from the looks of the first post, that might actually be a blessing since they will likely provide excellent blog fodder.

Rick is a storyteller supreme, he's forgotten more about spinning yarns than most of us can ever hope to learn. And he's as good in person as he is on the page. I am hoping that with time and encouragement, he might be coaxed into podcasting, and my cyber-life will be complete.

So what are you dawdling around here for? Head on over to the imaginatively named Rick Crowley weblog and feast your hungry, hungry eyes. They will thank you, those peckish eyes.

And I will, too. Because if I can send 50 of you over there, I get to make Rick tell the white sweatpants story.

"Bwahaha!", "All your blogs are belong to us" and other dorky sign-offs.

xxx c

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