Okay, so a few posts ago I mentioned “National Blog Posting Month” and how during it I was going to post everyday. That lasted…hold on let me count…yep, three days. So you know what? I’m saying a big fuck you to NBPM, which frankly in recent years has become way too commercial anyway. I mean, it used to be about the fucking blogging, man, you know what I’m saying? Just a bunch of us…dirty, sweaty, pale…banging away at our laptops…at nights our frail-from-lack-of-real-exercise bodies entwining in hot, passionate, very quick, nerd sex. But now, there’s like NBPM t-shirts, and I’m supposed to take my kid to see the NBPM Fairy at the mall, who’s clearly just some unemployed sex fiend the other 11 months of the year, and…blah, I’m just over it.
So, for serious, here’s the problem right now, folks: This blog is a place for me to rant about opinions and other things I’m passionate about, and right now I’m kind of at a “low ebb” on the creativity front, and I’m only passionate about exactly three things:
1) It’s hot out, and I’m sick of having to scoop my balls out from between my legs like a melted ice cream cone.
2) “Lost” is fucking amazing, and if I were ever alone on a deserted island with Evangeline Lilly, the friction from how hard I was banging her would be enough to create a smoke signal that could be seen from the North Pole, and finally,
3) If it wasn’t for the fact that I have to pee, I would never, ever get out of bed in the morning. Stupid kidney’s and their whole breaking down proteins into waste, bs.
So I’m not going to be posting everyday this month. Maybe I won’t post at all. Or maybe I’ll post some. Who knows? It’s like a cliffhanger, without the suspense or intrigue or general interest.
If you are someone who really can’t get enough of my writing, I would encourage you to, first, seek therapy, and second, come see the play I wrote being performed in the Fringe Festival this year. It’s exactly like one of my blogs, only instead of words it’s people talking, and instead of constantly referencing my genitals, I constantly reference Mike Tischers genitals. Hurray for a cheap Fringe show plug!
FAIL