[➰ 🅷/🅶➰] Hi Hotspot Geek,
It’s Gus/Kidney here,
Your a-g-ent.
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The last I heard from you, you were getting pamphlets produced at the
local printing shop. Are you still engaged in that behaviour? It sounded
promising. By my reckoning, you have a hundred or two in circulation. Not many,
but that’s all they print in a book run. You also have plenty of stock leftover,
to sell or donate to new future readers. You gave out several by mail, didn’t
you? Did the town’s biggest podcaster receive one? He acknowledged you in his
publication, I expect you sent him a pamphlet in return. I won’t mention his
name, as it looks like brown-nosing.
I hear that the relationship between you and your failed teenage recruit didn’t stand the passage of time. Isn’t she accusing you of something uncouthly at the moment? I would ask for those particular donations back. If she had paid for them, it would be different.
You have one copy circulating in the States. I don’t know how well it’s doing. Probably idling in someone’s dashboard tray. Or it may be in the reception area of a nursing home. Hard to tell with that one.
That woman from the hospital liked the kip of your poetry, although you think it’s too simplistic to qualify as classical clobber. Don’t give up on it. Write one about that assassin you overcome underneath the bed that time. I’m trying to get an artist to give us a decent visual representation of the thing, if possible. They charge 300 an image. You are no longer active as a side-line graphic designer, by my belief, are you?
I’ve been unable to recover any portfolios. Your mother is adamant that it went in the bin. I followed up some council leads into the processing of rubbish to no avail, unfortunately. Sorry. It looks like it is gone for good. But I have made a note of some possibly reproducible contents:
Michael Douglas, comprised of multiple overlapping outlines. A severed head on a stick, with said stick being that colourful test pattern printers spin out before job commence. Stained ancient scrolls, complete with calligraphy. I have others available at inbox request, just in case you are in a fit position to one day reproduce.
Red Bubble contained a lot of artwork, didn’t it? Your account died. What a saddening and ultimately tearful loss that really is. Looks the same with Facebook and X, formerly twitter. Didn’t you post your neighbour’s cat’s nipple teets on Instagram one time, coated in cloudy slime? Or am I joking again? (Tw*t Her, you call Twitter, don’t you?). I’d tw*t that lying cast-off recruit. And anybody who did that to a cat.
I’ve taken note of your doodles. A uni grad I know has suggested another batch of wallpaper, if you can churn out enough. What would it take, another 60 or 70 or so? Poster ideas sound positive. Shame the faces can’t be sketched. I know you’re aching for something in charcoal.
Keep at it anyway. Fingers crossed for your muse. I’m glad it’s not that array of supernatural nonsense anymore, Hotspot Geek. The way you wrote about guides concerned me deeply. You should rely on the living, and mainly yourself. Don’t you talk about some kind of gaseous translucent blue spectral substance inside your solar plexus now? How much have you leaked out so far? Can you regenerate it? I quiver at the sound of this substance, too HG, but it beats living with several dozen numpty ghosts. Gradually.
Still averaging a thousand words per hour. I’ll do some digging and eek out what the other powerhouses are knocking out. They can’t be much higher than that, surely, unless they’re touch typists. Isn’t your ex-pastor’s wife a touch typist? You said you saw her in a vision. Care to share? Or do I have to personally visit your apartment and wrestle some content out of you?
Stay inspired.
P.S Call the Anonymous Journalist
