I had a day full of wierd emails, where I felt like I was the only working artist/writer in the world being rejected by...everyone. I suppose that's not logisticaly possible, but that's what it felt like.
So I went to the barnyard, and there he was, still limping along. I sang him the chorus to that old rock song,
"We are the champions, my friend, and we'll keep on fighting 'till the end..."
