Master may be too strong of a word. If anything I'm his master, but I don't want to bust Rick's fragile ego. So, I call him my father. My dad. I need to let him think he's in charge. Poor thing.
You may know of my dad. He used to pen this blog. He has since moved onto other things and now stars (as far as he likes to think) in his own blog, aptly named after himself—God, the gall!—and is a published author.
Well, since he has no time to write in two places—plus author all his scandalous, dirty and ridiculous books—he has asked me to (re) take over Bandit Talks. When approached on the subject, I was actually happy about the opportunity. Writing this blog gives me a chance to showcase my talents. After all, lying around the house all day can get pretty boring.
I could go on to update you on all the happenings over the last few years, and tell you how we got to be where we are—I will I promise—but first I have to plug Rick's book. Oh, boy! I know. Here comes the commercial:
My dad's first novel is coming out on his birthday, which is September 15th. Who the hell would launches a book on his birthday? My dad. Actually, it's already out as an eBook, and is doing rather well. The paperback comes out in a couple of weeks.
The book is called Tim on Broadway: Season One. He wants you to buy it. Actually, I want you to buy it. He moved us all down here to hot, stinky Florida so that he could have the time to sit around on his fat butt all day and write. While he plays best-selling author, me and daddy # 2 (actually # 1 but again, I've got to watch his fragile ego) have to work, Hmph. Maybe one day we can get a place where I don't have to use an elevator to go take a leak.
Well, that's probably enough for my first post. It's been awhile. I don't want to overwhelm you with my pitchy prose.
Until next time...
P.S. Oh, here's the picture of the book. I had a little input into the design. What do you think?