Okay, I won’t mention baseball again until there’s really something to mention outside of Robinson Cano winning both the Gold Glove and the Silver Slugger at second base – and very deservingly – bode well for his MVP award.

Nearly 100 pages into the new book – “Giving In” – and although I haven’t read more than a page here or there and I am still not sure if it’s going to wind up an indecipherable, confused and confusing manifesto or something that would interest a 22 year old Canadian girl enough to buy it and tell all her friends to also.
Perhaps I will start putting an excerpt on here from time to time as I scribble away in the writing studio. I know I said I was going to do that with the screenwriting book, so don’t hold your breath.

If you’re reading this from anywhere near enough to Los Angeles to come hear me read as my nom de porn Marco J. Spumante at a Sexy Tales night at El Cid on Sunset. Wednesday, Nov. 17th 7-9pm and I am sure there will be far bigger draws than me.
Speaking of far bigger draws, I just did some modeling for my friend’s band’s new music video; somehow the last couple of sentences are linked, but you know I am nothing if not a gentleman.

Okay, fine, here’s your excerpt:

She told him she loved him for the first time in a foreign language he did not speak. Another She whispered, “I love you,” for the first time so it didn’t count. Yet another She asked him if he loved her, but like any good trial attorney she already knew the answer.
He once had the misfortune of meeting a woman who loved everything about him, who didn’t want to change a thing about him. Thing was, she wanted to change everything about herself the way a snake sheds its skin. He once had a woman tell him she didn’t want to change anything about him other than his address. Thing was, she never did change his address and he had really wanted her to.