I figured I would take a moment to give all of you readers at home a bit of unsolicited advice. If you ever employ a feminist martial arts master who wants your blog to pass the Bechdel test (or really just a martial arts master of any stripe) you might not want to imply that perhaps they had anything to do with the incoming Evil Mystery Blogger posts that keep getting posted via a hacked signal.
Unless you really, really like pain.
A few things were made abundantly clear to me after the first few nerve strikes eclipsed my world in a haze of muscle paralysis and flaring agony.
- Leela Bruce has what she calls a "logically inexplicable" loyalty given that in the last three years, she hasn't been paid more than eighteen dollars and a few hundred Wienerschnitzel Tuesday "Add-Chili" upgrade vouchers, and doesn't appreciate that loyalty being questioned.
- If she wanted to bring down Writing About Writing, she assures me that she wouldn't bother to do a bunch of surreptitious blogs of shitty writing advice. She would just walk up to me and do a spinning back crescent kick to the nape of my neck and explode my "Will to Live" Chakra and spinal column simultaneously draining the Chi out of me, and I'm quoting here, "like kids get the candy from a piñata."
- If I want her to do another ass kicking of bad writing advice, I have to get more women blogging here. Doing one post from The Pointer Sisters won't satisfy her.
- Dim Mak is totally real.
- She thinks the person I need to be talking to is most likely the EVIL VERSION OF ME LIVING IN THE BASEMENT. (Her emphasis, not mine.)