The hiatus at Vicar World Central continues. A time to take control of my own destiny. If mistakes are to be made, at least they will be my own mistakes.
Despite various attempts over the last twenty two months, sixteen days and twenty three hours, the desired screenplay has yet to breathe great gulps of fresh air. Or even polluted LA smog. I shall no longer censor my own intelligence (albeit "beneath the level of even being termed infantile" in the opinion of Mark Gasper) and am therefore preparing to make my debut as a screenplay writer – complete with my shiny new copy of MovieMagic 2000.
I shall submit my feeble attempts to public ridicule on these pages after August 15th, when I return from a much needed retreat in France. Until then, there will be silence in the Vicarage. Or not.
For the next ten days, Mr Gasper may rejoice in the absence of "the pointless gibberish of the pseudonymous Vicar", with his" most meaningless ramblings couched in the pseudo-artsy drivel of someone who does not seem capable of constructing coherent sentences."
