Sentiment

It is a curious thing to deal with the emotional burden of a piece I haven't written but one that I know I must write, one that will challenge the essence of my being.

Yes friends, I have banged out many words while tears have streamed down my cheeks and I'm not embarrassed to admit that.

I'm a sentimental motherfucker after all all... but I'll elaborate at one of my other internet-hidey holes later.

You know where I be, right?

Probably One of the Bigger Problems in Life Is That

Exes never really stop being hot do they? Most of the time when the wheels come off a relationship, looks have little to do with it, right? Conversely how many relationships begin with simple physical attraction?

I'm gonna throw out a number here and say: Lots.

Yes, I am happily in love, married and living with the girl of my dreams but Facebook ain't doing me any favors when certain ladies update their profile pics.

Did I say that all out loud?

Oops....

For the Frauds

The thing that bothers me most about sometimey folks who find friendship a matter of proximity is the nagging feeling that these same folks who smile in my face are the same people who think that I'd associate myself with a wack project. The same folks who snicker behind my back and assume I'm not serious about creating even though they have no idea what I'm on about these days.

Well, you don't have to pay lip service to my ideas. Ever. I'd prefer if you didn't really. I don't need phony ass smoke blown at me or one person's approval to justify doing what I do. I'm not interested in having the conversation where I talk about what I'm up to just to watch someone's disinterested eyes glaze over either.

Fuck all that.

Support my work or don't but don't speak out of one side of your mouth if you feel a different way about it especially if you've never experienced it. We're better off not talking at all if that's the case.

Don't pretend to care if it means nothing to you and we'll get along just fine. I catch you blowing smoke at me, there's gonna be problems.

Piranhas

Hiding behind a gaze of steel, a charm throwing spotlight and a shark fin, I swim with them.

Barely elevating myself above piranha bait. How could I know? A well disguised nibble might feel like something different even as the blood flows into the water and sparks the feeding frenzy.

The blood is the proof.

Sharks smell blood which would help me, were I one.

I'm not a shark

Just a guy with a detachable shark fin who thinks he can swim with the piranhas and come out unscathed.

I Like You the Best

O sad neglected corner of Internet Space. Don't bat those sad, tired eyes at me like I know what empathy is.

You know you're my favorite, my little surrogate Tweetlonger service that you are.

With that out of the way (maybe there are people watching) the question for the day is:

Why do people make phone calls when they are standing in line waiting for something else, e.g.

*Bring* *Bring* (Although my phone ring is more like 'Check it out, check it out, check out,' courtesy of some Mary van Note voice thievery)

Me: Hallo (Affected Brit-person accent and all)

Friend: Hey man, oh hold on a second I need to make this order cause it's my turn in line.

Me: OH OK (Nodding silently to the beat of imaginary hold music)

(The rest is irrelevant)
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Seriously. If American schools aren't going to teach civics they should at least teach cell phone etiquette. DON'T CALL ME IF YOU'RE NOT READY TO TALK!

I love y'all but come on: Spare me.

So, ummmm, how y'all doing anyway? Anything cool happen lately? Discuss.

Antipathy

Blogging about not blogging is like watching a reality show about blogging.

Being somewhat of a recluse

I find that I'm drawn to other recluses which makes for some positively heart stopping conversation if you manage to get one going.

*Listens to the silence*

See my point?