So, someone recently told me there're only two constants in life--death and taxes. I wondered how "death" could be considered a constant in life? Seems like an oxymoron to me. But I digress.
There're also two other constants. Good and bad. There will always be children and perverts. Which sorta' coinicides with the two most popular genres of fiction writing--children's literature and erotica. So, I've decided to accept fate when it's gob-smacking me in the face. I have two choices. I can either fully embrace my inner child and write children's books or jump on the pervy bandwagon, make a load of cash, and delve into erotica.
I put the vote up to you, my brethren.
Shall I next write:
"Mr. Possum's Sore Tooth;"
"Fifty Pockets Of Porn?"
It's up to you. Discuss. Deliberate. Vote.