Update on Birthday Monkeys

Yesterday I got bogged down trying to launch a Kickstarter campaign.

I'm 47 now. I'm obviously past the threshold of being able to manage modern thingdoodles.

Not there yet. But I don't quite understand emojis, either.

The idea is to raise money to hire an artist to illustrate a cute little poem/story I wrote about monkeys.

Have I ever mentioned how I like monkeys?

Can't remember. But I do.

I think there's potentially a sweet storybook in this. But I can't draw for poo. Hence the Kickstarter.

But then loyal Drunkard (and admitted terrorist) Bill the Butcher volunteered to take a stab at illustrating my project. Because he is a rather fabulous artist who works in a variety of media and is a dentist in real life. I find that hilarious for some reason.

This is how I picture his practice.

The thing is, for some reason I'm reluctant to share my monkey-story with him. I value his opinion an awful lot. What if he thinks it's silly? Trivial? Not radicalized enough to merit his attention?

This is why I hate respecting people. It ruins everything.

Sometimes I find an image that I just have to include,
even if it has nothing to do with the topic at hand.

So I think what I'm going to do is I'm going to post my monkey-story here tomorrow for everyone to see. And you can let me know if you think it's cute/sweet/fucking idiotic. And maybe if you're an artist, or know an artist, you can opine on its illustratability. I don't know if that's a word. But whatever.

Also, if Bill really wants to draw monkeys for me, I fully expect to compensate him for his time and effort. In which case I'll still need to raise those funds. Maybe you guys can help with that.

For now, I'm just going to brood. Tomorrow I'll share my monkey-story.

If anyone is good at Kickstartering, feel free to volunteer your consulting services.