Holy cow indeed, and apologies for the long break. I’ve been in a funk, you see, and it was a funk that showed no signs of becoming less funky until sometime in the middle of last night when I decided, once and for all, to pull my act together and wrap this thing up. By the end of this month I’ll pitch another 300 magazines, no excuses. That, I realise, sounds ridiculous. It sounds ridiculous both because it’s a considerable amount of work (regular readers will have caught me trying to outmanoeuvre considerable amounts of work in the past), and also because pitchingtheworld so far has been littered with empty and easily broken promises.
Not this time though. No way. I’ll be tearing back into that book this afternoon and continue to tear into it until I’m done. No excuses. Well, a few excuses: I’ve got a feature to write today, and another tomorrow, and a talk to organise, and a possible gig reviewing 70 restaurants to get signed off – but then, when that’s all done, no excuses. None. Until I think up some new ones.
I’ll also be updating my progress daily (possibly twice daily – actually no way) from now on. This shit just got real.
Pitching the World 
Oh dear.
First you start saying nice things about Paul Dacre, then you casually mention how you have two features and a talk (a talk?) to do in the next two days and now you start talking about actually bothering to pitch/update regularly?
What’s happened? This is not what I tune in for (surf in? Log in? What is the correct phrase?) A busy, productive, successful and magnaminous pitchingtheworld is frankly useless to me.
Sort it out, young man, or I shall be forced to seek my schadenfreude elsewhere.
Perhaps you could start by telling us what happened with your professional football trial?
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You can read about my professional football trial in yesterday’s G2, published under a pseudonym. I’ll warn you though: it’s not very good. The article, not the pseudonym, though that’s not very good either.
Also: Ha! Today I may be busy, productive, successful etc. (although I’m not) but only two mornings ago I was in bits, refusing to get out of bed, and pathetically saying to my wife that I was going to tell all the eds I occasionally work for to “go fuck themselves”. I haven’t, and I won’t, but at the time it seemed like the right thing to do. I then spent hours working out an alternative career robbing drug dealers, but I’ll save the details for another time.
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PtW, I get where Domino is coming from, but you must not be swayed: you owe it to yourself and your readers to get pitching double-four time (dunno what this means, but he sings it in Sultans of Swing – not Domino, Mark Knopfler). In fact, screw your readers and yourself: you owe it to your wife (and your creditors).
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