Virtual book tour stop...

Hello, and welcome to the sixteenth stop on the "Rainy Day Sun and Games for Toddler and Total Bastard" virtual book tour, the book tour that's replaced the fine content normally served here with this freeze-dried crap. My name's Greg Knauss and I'll be following you around, saying "Excuse me? Excuse me? Excuse me?" until you finally relent and buy my book. Or just throw money at mean and scream, "Go away!" I'm fine with either.

And remember, folks, "Rainy Day Fun and Games for Toddler and Total Bastard" is tax deductible. Every copy you buy can be written off on your 2002 taxes, assuming you're willing to call So New Media a charity. And, really, that's not too far off the mark.

Today's reading comes from the Cultural Juxtapositions are Cheap Laughs file:

I lower Tom from my arms into his bed, and Joanne pulls a blanket over him.

"Goodnight, Thomas," she says.

I lean over and kiss him on the cheek. "Dream good dreams."

Tom smiles and closes his eyes and sinks into the pillow, and we turn out the light and close the door and stand for a moment outside, listening to the silence that has fallen over the house. Mike breathes quietly from the next room, asleep for an hour now, and the whole world seems finally, blissfully at peace.

Joanne smiles at me and as we walk back down the stairs, she says, "We are just so the freakin' Cleavers."

Are there any questions from the audience? Any questions? Yes, you with the spindly little arms. Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize that you were just rubbing your hind legs together, producing a high-pitched squeaking noise in order to attract a mate. Anybody else?

Yes, you sir? The mysterious stranger standing in the back of the room, with his hat pulled low and his trench coat wrapped tightly around him?

Isn't it about time you confessed, Mr. Knauss? Isn't it about time you told the truth? Isn't it about time you started some cliff-hanger nonsense to keep people reading because you ran out of interesting things to say a long time ago?

Wha--? I mean, how--? But... Yes. I suppose you're right, Mysterious Stranger. It is time. I've borne this burden for too long, and it's slowly killing me. I'll tell the truth. Finally, I'll tell the truth... Tomorrow, at Bondcliff.net!