RCF and I were talking on the way to someplace as we often do. He had a trying day at work and he was bellyaching about his Outcast buddies prodding him to blog. “I’m too busy trying to make a living. There’s barely enough time to write, much less all this other stuff writers are expected to do.” Then he looked me hard in the face, and said, “You got nothing going, why don’t you do it for me”. True, I said, but I’m no writer, story teller maybe.