1.
If any of you've tried to knock on my door sometime in the past week: sorry, no dice, I've been off doing vastly intriguing things on the west coast. Mostly involving wrapping up some long overdue album releases, but that's beside the point. Point being, I'm back in town and in my regular suite, ready to address the good old Pentamerone concerns: no one murdered or dead? any new manifestations? New Yorkies haven't declared war us yet? Anser hasn't exploded with the arrival of Yet Another Princess?
You know what, let's do a headcount of my own. All you little fables - otherwise known as the collective pain in my ass - c'mon and speak up. I've seen Rowanne's face lurking around. Eddy, you owe me a drink. And Carson's going to be staying with us in the Pen for a while onwards. Try not to listen to him too much.
And for any of the new hands writing in this thing; I'm Noah Connell. Head of Aesop's. It's highly likely that we'll see each other around. And while I'm on this thing, someone recommend me a book that doesn't talk back. I'm thinking reading will iron out my erratic sleeping patterns.
You know what, let's do a headcount of my own. All you little fables - otherwise known as the collective pain in my ass - c'mon and speak up. I've seen Rowanne's face lurking around. Eddy, you owe me a drink. And Carson's going to be staying with us in the Pen for a while onwards. Try not to listen to him too much.
And for any of the new hands writing in this thing; I'm Noah Connell. Head of Aesop's. It's highly likely that we'll see each other around. And while I'm on this thing, someone recommend me a book that doesn't talk back. I'm thinking reading will iron out my erratic sleeping patterns.