Second Draft Done and Seismic Semester Cut Jokes

So, that's wrapped up!  In fact it's so wrapped up, that I'm not going to bother with a subtraction edit.  I already cut what I'm going to cut.  I mean, might be a sentence here or there, but nothing huge.  Despite the length, I feel I was actually really disciplined when it came to stream of conscious and big huge asides this go around.  Probably cuz every word I wrote hurt!

At this point, anything more being cut would require entire subplots to be removed and...I don't want to, so there!

So what do we have ahead?

Conclude FM6, 3 Ancillary Novel Noteapalooza.

Common Errors Search-a-thon. (now that I'm using modern spellcheckers, the typo issue is SO much easier BTW)

Ellipsis Hunt and the Defuckening.

Formatting.

Kindle Copy Edit.

Beta Reading.

Release.

After that, I plan to work on The War to End All Wars until I can't take the teenager drama any more and switch to finishing the Vicky Novel.  After that I'll go back to WtEAW and again, switch to FM7 if I can't take it any more and just flip back and forth until those are both written.

Here are some of the jokes I cut mostly for mood reasons.

1.

Want to grunt and hump at the Asylum, do ya? Hope those privacy curtains are enough to hide your shame. Secret closet you stole the key for? Still someone walking past that door every few minutes, so best not squeak like a chipmunk or you’ll give the game away. Favorite spot in the Park takes three turns off the main thoroughfare, past one extra aggravated peacock and a malfunctioning water fixture tries to wash out your ass crack? Why hello, Mr. Gullick! You ever seen your daughter’s uterus? Just give me a sec, she’s pretty wide open down there so it shouldn’t be too much trouble if I angle her just right…

2.

Almost two years later and she still fucking ain’t done it, kiddies. What that fucking tell you about Bonegrinders? Granted, she hasn’t talked to me since graduation, being we’re both so busy. But I got fucking email now, ya know? King Henry’s Hidden Treasures has a Facebook page! Not that the old ladies buy the teapots know how to use Facebook without asking their grandchildren to reset their password every week, but Val probably does.

3.

I mean…I stick things in strange holes too, but not my hand.  And a snake never bitten it…yet.

Ever.

Ain’t that kinky.  As far as animals go, leave ‘em to Jesus.  Don’t even like ‘em in the room, not after this one time where a college girl’s cat just sat on the edge of the bed throwing its ass in my face the whole time.  Get me too, Papi Enorme!  Faunamancers got it rough, even if they ain’t fucking the animals.  All that commentary on your moves gotta be soul crushing.

Why you sound like chipmunk, mistress?  Is he hurting you?  Can I bite him?  No, no, not God.  It’s ‘dog’.  People make that mistake all the time.  Like when I pooped in Mrs. Dingle’s yard and she said, “God damn it!”  No, it’s dog.  And my name isn’t Damn It…why are you glaring at me, did I do something wrong?  I’m a good boy!  I don’t want to eat cat shit, but I can’t help myself!  I haven’t done it today.  Want to smell my breath to check?  Here, smell.  I’ll pant like you are.

4.

Bad way, more like.  Shit saying.  Ain’t a good way to lose a hand, I’m thinking.  Snapped off by a corpusmancer’s over-exercised monster coot coot?

Still ain’t good, but if you gotta lose a hand that’s a unique way to go about it…

Tell your grandkids about it one day.

Well, Timmy, your grandma got herself addicted to the Suzanne Somers ThighMaster and I am the G Spot Messiah…put the two together and Grandpa hasn’t been able to jerk off for forty years now.  Sure, could use the other hand, but…nothing feels worse than jerking off with the wrong hand.  There a better metaphor for life?  I don’t think so, Timmy.

I.

Don’t.

Think.

So.