Well apparently I was asked to give up my man card today. My brother left a comment on my blog from yesterday and said that I need to give up my man card.
He thinks its all just 'lollipops and gum drops'. I don't really give a shit. For the first time I am seeing things clearly. I have not had anything to bitch about other than the fact that Al Gore is a dumb ass, Obama doesn't say a whole sentence without stopping for effect, and that effect is over used. He's like the William Shatner of politicians.
Captain's log [pause] star date [pause] twenty seven point three [pause] rounded off to the [pause] nearest decimal point. Annoying.
This country [pause] is facing [pause, look to the left] the worst economic crisis [pause, look right] since the Great Depression. God damn. Yeah he may not flub as many lines as GWB, but it's like watching Star Trek: The Government Generations starring a black dude who can't just say a damn line!
But I don't really give a shit if people think I am a pussy or not. I don't give a shit if people think I have lost my balls.
I started my blog because I felt like it. I started it because its like a writing workshop without having to go to an under ground library, where there are 'artists' and 'writers' [insert photo of gothic person cutting their wrists and writing angsty poetry here]. I write here because I am just trying to develop my writing. I write about things that I care about. I don't give a shit about what you care about. I write for me. The blog is called, 'I don't give 2 cents, I throw quarters'. Many feel that they are coming to a blog where I bitch endlessly about anything and everything. The title is ment to play on my inability to shut up. If asked, "How was your day?" most would answer, good. I would go into how I was feeling about something, or something like that. So what if it's a happy thought and so what if I decide to bitch up a storm about something, but 20 minutes later and 3 chapters ago I am still talking [writing] about it.
Yes, I posted a picture of an ultra sound of my new ineutero child. Yes, I mention that I love my wife very often. Yes, I post photos of my daughter when I am proud. I like to brag. It's what I do. I have a great life that I have worked hard to get to this place. I thank my brother for helping me get there, but fuck off all at the same time. By the way, Kites are cool as shit! Ben Franklin flew one and electricuted himself! Kentucky Fried Chicken is cool as hell as well as trans fat free. Knight Rider was awesome and don't act like you didn't want the Kitt big wheel.
I bring you into my world to brag about me. I am not lying. I want to show you how clever I am. So what if I tell you that I was moved to tears about something. I refuse to be a hard ass who is too afraid to show a little emotion for fear of losing my 'man card'. I'll go one further. I will give you my wife's number and you can pick up my balls from her. They are in her purse!
I write for my audience. Sure there are some people [what 8 of you now] who see it necessary to follow the blog with regularity, but ultimately I am writing for me. You are welcome to peak in from time to time. Comment often if you care to.
If you don't like the sugar plumbs that dance in my head, then we can play a game.
It's called, hide and go fuck yourself.
Yarn and... teeth.
1 year ago