I'm coming, baby. I iz in yer zip code, fer reals, sometime next March or whenever SXSW is.
I'll be an eminently big big shot, of course, and expect that I'll be spending most of my time with Robert Plant, Alison Krause, whoever the hot new novelist is, Emma Watson, who ever the hot new indy film star is, whoever the hot new band is, and one of Cory Doctorow, Tim O'Reilly, Paul McCartney or Julian Assange.
For old time's sake, however, I will do my best to make myself available for audiences with y'all little people. (Did somebody say BBQ chez the HuSite formerly known as b--x-o?)
By the way, I'll be needing someplace to sleep. Anybody got a couch? (Some have offered earlier, but that was when we were talking much more hypothetically than we are now.)
And finally, anybody know a good dentist who works cheap? I'm considering getting my teeth purtied up before I go for my closeup with Mr. DeMille.
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