Determined to take the indulgence crapulent wallowing as far as humanly possible, we here at Cee Minus Minus are starting a new feature: Rejection Tuesday!!! For your delectation, old rejection slips will be posted every Tuesday until I get bored as shit with the whole thing.
The first in our atrocity exhibition is from November 1989, when the world was still dewy and everyone was doing the Lambada and the Olsen twins were super hot on Full House and we were all talking on giant-sized cell phones, ha fucking ha ha. *Yawn* The Eighties, amirite folks?
Anyhoo. The fuckers at Kansas Quarterly, now defunct, saw fit to outrageously reject my deathful prose in a piece called "Houdini." Uh... I guess it was about some dude name Houdini? A magician who gets arrested by something incoherent? Hell if I can remember this piece of crap. It's amazing they bothered to send a personalized rejection and not goons out to my place to break both my hands and brain.
That's right: "(con't)"!! You'll have to tune in next Tuesday to see how this rejection slip turned out! SPOILER ALERT: Snoopy gets shot.