I have no desire to explain where I’ve been since June. In fact, if I did explain where I’ve been since June, then I think I should change the title of this blog from “I’m Awesome” (which is still entirely true, mind you) to “I’m Full of Awesome Excuses.” Which is also technically true, since everything that comes out of my mouth, ends up on paper, or is posted to the web due to my creation is, summarily, really awesome.
Was I going somewhere with this?
I want to claim I was talking about how awesome I am, but I fear that would be erroneous. I suppose I was talking about how I have absolutely nothing to say about not posting on this blog since June. I could say things, I just don’t want to. Right? I can do that. It’s my blog. Seriously, who’s reading this blog anyway? I mean, obviously I’m completely full of myself; that’s why I have a blog. But no one is actually consuming this drivel. Most of you get enough of my buffoonery in person. Why would you want to devote your precious free time to swallowing mouthfuls of my…you know, my stuff?
Dammit. You fucking love me.
I needed to throw in “fuck,” because this post was entirely too much. Am I writing for a G-rated audience or what? Fuck that. And fuck this. Fucking shit. Fuck ‘em. Fuck it. Fuck it all! Man. That makes me feel so much fucking better.
I am still not sure what my point was.
Anyway, so, wow! Is this blogging thing cool or what? Yeah, fuck. This shit’s hard. Remember when I used to have nothing to do at work and I’d not-so-covertly blog all day about how terrible my job was? Oh, and boys. I also blogged about boys. That part was better than the work part. Most of you didn’t know me then. But getting paid to blog was cool. Not that that was in my job description. Yeah right. But that’s exactly what I did. Is that what I do now? I dunno. Sorta. Except it’s technically okay now. Well, not blogging all day. But fucking around on the Internet all day is. Because now it’s like, a skill set and shit. Just think – all that screwing around on MySpace and Blogger in the olden days actually helped land the gig I call “a living” now. Man, life is great.
Is that last paragraph going to get me in trouble?
Why exactly am I writing like this? Is it because I so desperately wanted to throw in the word “fuck” one more time for posterity? Hahahaha, I said “fuck” again. It’s like I’m fuckrolling you.
Dude, I’m so out of touch. I don’t write enough anymore. Wait a minute. Yes, I do. So now I have no excuse.
Fuckrolling 15, Fuck 0.
Shit. This is going to drive up traffic to my site, but for all the wrong reasons. Ew.
I was going somewhere with this, wasn’t I?
Truthfully, I probably wasn’t. Fuck. I’m so irrelevant. I should, like, something. Yeah. I’ll something sometime really soon.
Drugs? What drugs?
I’m about to rip a man a new asshole. No, wait, I hate that saying.
I’m about to dissect a man from the outside in. Errr. I’m not gonna do that either. That’s kinda too Trent Reznor. And is that even possible? I do not want to fuck you like an animal in any way, shape, or form, however.
I swear these thoughts are all linked. I promise. They all make sense to someone that isn’t you. Perhaps it’s me. Perhaps not.
This entire post would be better in tweets. Sigh.