8 My Autobiography of My Life by Me

CHAPTER 8 MY AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MY LIFE BY ME (AND NOT TERRY) I stomp down the stairs, out the front door and fling my cowpat hat into the forest. The movie is not my problem any more. And neither is Terry. We are done.

第八章我的人生自传作者：我（不是特里）我跺着脚走下楼梯，走出前门，把我的牛帽扔进了森林。 这部电影不再是我的问题了。 特里也不是。我们做完了。

Who needs him anyway? Not me. I can draw my own pictures. And now I can finally get started on the autobiography I've always wanted to write. I feel a hand on my shoulder and look up. It's Jill.

谁还需要他？不是我。 我可以画自己的画。 现在我终于可以开始写我一直想写的自传了。 我感到有一只手搭在我的肩膀上，我抬起头来。 吉尔。

'I came to see if you were okay,' she says. 'Yeah, I'm fine,' I say. 'I'm quite busy, actually. I'm writing my autobiography.' 'That's great, Andy,' says Jill, 'but won't Terry be too busy to illustrate it?' 'Yeah, probably,' I say. 'But it doesn't matter because I can do it myself. Look.' I hand Jill the pages.

“我来看看你还好吗，”她说。 “是的，我很好，”我说。“事实上，我很忙。 我正在写自传。“那太好了，安迪，”吉尔说，“但特里不会太忙，没时间举例说明吗？”“是的，也许吧，”我说。 “但没关系，因为我可以自己做。 看。”我把书递给吉尔。