I get it - - the delusion was all Mailer but the submissions are mostly pallor. This set-up will never produce anything more than throw away. And the reason you keep it going is??? God.

WTF? Here's the deal. Once God satisfied a young boy's imaginative understanding that there's more to life than what you can see, it continued to now where God is the infinite void and everything spiritual that we need to keep our heart in the equation of dealing with life. God makes me keep posting this detritus so I can check that my heart is not turning into stone. This is not conducive to constructing good shit on the blank page, he implores. The truth is my best efforts are already expended. Here's the proof:
Fat Fuck has a new story to tell. It's about a former faux technocrat with a BBA whose balls are knee dwellers. Seems our picadillo can't make happen what the life coaches call "bridging the gap between our knowledge and the horse we rode in on".

See? Already derailed. Already jiving instead of mesmerizing. So what to do about it? I'm no Norman but I still do the morning wake-up as the euro-spawned American laird with no deliverables, thank you God for making me ready for all of this. I ejac because I'm back and the "from where?" is not as important as the here and now. And I'm sticking with that.

That's it? That's all you came up with to make the point about delicious writing? If you say so . . . .