ceciliatan

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

(Wrapping up the Amazon reviews campaign: if we can get just THREE more reviews for Volume 3 and four reviews for Volume 7 by Monday at midnight, I’ll release the bonus scene on Wednesday. Dunno why vols 4-5-6 lagged, but they’re all in double digits now so I figure that’s very respectable. Thank you everyone who reviewed! Can we get just a few more? -ctan)

—

I’m a little unclear on why Digger wasn’t in jail or something already. I guess he’d somehow talked a ranking police officer on site into not dragging him away, I suppose because he had promised he wouldn’t be any trouble if he could just do one thing and one thing only.

“Just let me talk to my son” was apparently that thing. The cop whom Courtney led over put it to me like I’d be doing them–and all of us–a favor, if I’d go find out what he wanted.

“Fine. Lead the way,” I said.

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

So, I was expecting a bout of insomnia, but I guess all the alcohol and turkey outdid the stress, and I passed out not long after J. and I got in bed.

Jonathan, on the other hand, apparently lay awake thinking about everything he had seen and heard, and Jonathan being Jonathan, made up stories to explain it. Which means when Remo came back at like four in the morning, and we got up to groggily receive the news that Digger was alive but his liver wasn’t in such great shape, Jonathan was basically bursting with theories.

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

(Make sure if you haven’t read Saturday’s post that you read it first…)
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Thank heaven for the merciful angels in this business who save us from ourselves. No, really. Remember that time Belle gave me a bottle of cough medicine and then made me lie down on the couch in her office? She came to my rescue again this time, when I was thoroughly fried and frayed. Ziggy and Digger had gone off to some lunch meeting with someone movie-related and left me and Bart to deal with interviews.

Belle stole me away at one point and took me to her new, bigger, less cluttered office, and pointed at the new, bigger couch and I tore off my denim jacket to make it into a pillow and lie down before anyone else could say anything.