Yet again my team of writers is on strike. They're demanding to be let out of the writing shed (in which I safely lock them away out of trouble), not only for toilet breaks but also to see their families and to go home at night. Well it's not going to happen. Last time they were released I spent weeks tracking them down again. It was only the fact that I had implanted chips in the back of their necks that let me find them using my iPhone "track down your slaves" app.
They are actually still writing for me, so technically they're not in breach of their contracts, and I am still obliged to feed them their daily gruel. But they are only coming up with Justin Bieber fan faction, and Lady Gaga fantasies. Totally unusable for a serious intellectual blog such as this one.
with you, until the last sentence
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