What is the purpose for this blog?

What is the meaning of life brothers and sisters? Every boob on earth has cranked their little minds on that. If you want the answer, go sit on a high mountain with a guru or a swami 'caz I'm not spilling the beans. The purpose behind writing this blog is a hard enough nut to crack, cheese it with the philosophical-metaphysical questions.

I am a mystery writer who wants to bring back the days of Philip Marlowe and Sam Spade. But all I can recapture is the spirit and the language. Maybe neither of those so well. If you like what you read then give it a further gander, and if not then nuts to you. I ain't going to throw lead at ya, or finger you for a hatchet man to bump off. If you know what I mean. I believe in live and let live.

I don't smoke dope or cigarettes and I don't go looking for chippies. In that way, Phil and Sam they got me beat. But I got a broad, Rosemary, who lives with me, and that's just fine. She dizzy for me, and the feeling is mutual.

So drop in any time and we'll dip the bill in a few Murphy's Irish Stout, or the hooch of your choice. Consider me Sascha, the bartender in Rick's Cafe Americain in Casablanca, what troubles you have, spill, I won't snitch you out. But when you're driving home on the internet don't let the coppers stop you. The superhighway is lousy with them. And if they do, close your head, clam up, don't finger me for your problems. Even if they get a little gashouse with you while giving you the third degree. I don't need any heat coming down on me, just because you want to avoid getting thrown in the can. You're the one out on the roof, smoked, soused, and lookin' for a mouthpiece to bump gums for you. You can't be setting me up to be the patsy so you can lam off into the sunset. Take your time in the clubhouse with the screws snoopin' on you through those iron bars, giving you the buzz. Beats house dicks at the keyholes, if you remember when doors had keyholes.

Or you could just get some cabin fever, staying home with me while we do it up with Mystery, Murder, Mayhem & Medicine.

If you like this wait till the spring when we start writin' at the Macmillan Crime Blog. I'll put you in the know as soon as I make the link and URL myself. After all, we ain't on the blower and it's not your dime or mine, not that I'm a skinflint. Till then I'll take a cup of joe and keep poking around to see what's on the level. Can't be lit by tipping a few tiger milks when we're scoping out the lay (of the land).
Stay out from behind the eight ball while you're waiting.

Let me leave you today with Ella Fitzgerald singing Summertime in a concert in Berlin presented on You Tube.

I'm downing a Stout, and listening to this doll sing. Here's spit in your eye.
You'll be back next time.

TheMadMutt.