7.32 p.m.
I was bothered over the past couple of weeks by something going wrong with the uploading of one of my books on Kindle. The consiglierie has been totally wonderful when it comes to helping with Kindle stuff, but at the moment he's quite indisposed so I thought I'd ask one or two of the useless basturns who come to this bloggy for a favour. What I was asking for was for them to download the dodgy book and have a look to see if it was sitting on the page right. I suspect - though god knows why - that it might be off centre, and jammed over to the right. There are various reasons why I cannot download this book myself. Well, I haven't got a kindle for one thing. I have got a kindle for PC, but the last time I tried to download something on that I couldn't get into my account because .... who knows why?
Anyway, so that it wouldn't cost them 77p (and they're both practically millionaires compared to me, being the progeny of the evil bourgeois, recipients of inheritances, etc.), I made the book free for a day. Here is what happened.
Albert, who is so computery literate that he was once about to invent the internet until someone asked him for a favour, causing him to flee forever into the middle of some desert down under, claims to have been totally confused by the Amazon page and couldn't find the CLICK HERE YOU MORON button, and therefore couldn't download the book.
Brian Wilson is in China at the moment trying to buy some more fresh livers off the prison authorities and claims that they don't have computers in China yet.
Working class people are very helpful. They'll do anything for you. They stick together through good and bad times. Brian Wilson and Albert are typical of the evil bourgeois. They live their lonely lives in their desolate citadels, clinging to their credit ratings, have no sense of communality whatsoever and are completely useless to either man or beast!
Fortunately, I no longer care about the dodgy book or any of that! Just as well. Today I managed to meditate from ten through till luncho at half twelve without moving my position. This is the bliss! This is the bliss! This is the bliss!
1 comment:
I'm guessing that's one of your writerly technical terms - "off centre, and jammed over to the right." If the book's compensating for its author, it's all balancing up.
Salt of the earth commoners - willing to help, yet utterly helpless. It all balances up.
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