I was supposed to be at a party tonight, but instead I’m in the office, compiling a list of links for the SL book, that’s published in New York next week. The trouble with my new flat is that it takes me – at least – 40 minutes to get home. I truly can’t be bothered to leave.
And yet a cab is going to be fifteen quid, and I’m feeling a bit poor at the moment. If first life was like Second Life, I could teleport.
It’s not.
| << (Next) Pulling an all-dayer | Listen, I’m under arrest. I’m gonna have to call you back Bruce (Previous) >> |
You are reading PaulCarr.com, Paul Carr's pseudo-daily blog of things too weird, libellous, self-indulgent or dull to sell to anyone. A director's commentary to his life, if you like.It is also the companion site to his writings for various publications and to his book, Bringing Nothing To The Party: True Confessions Of A New Media Whore, which is published by Weidenfeld & Nicolson. About Paul...
Post a text or video quibble (in your real name)