Once Upon A Blog


Well, I accomplished pretty much nothing today, which from a procrastination standpoint, is way impressive.  So go me!  I did work on my book, jotted down some poetry ideas, and I plan on doing a load of laundry here in a bit–so you know, I wasn’t totally useless today.  Hmm…so did I do nothing and make my procrastinating self all happy, or did I do just enough to make it to that gray area between doing nothing and being at least slightly productive?  I mean, calling today’s activities productive is completely mutilating the concept, yet I did do a minimal amount of stuff.  You see how I just snuck you in through the backdoor of my thoughts?  Totally baffled over the obsessive focus on such triviality, aren’t you?  (If not, perhaps you should worry a bit)  Welcome to my world–where I can spend ages internally debating the most inconsequential crap ever.  Ordering food from a menu, choosing new clothes, deciding on a haircut, naming something, picking which movie to watch, buying birthday cards, choosing what color to paint my nails–all things that drive me bat-shit.  Over the years, I have discovered that this whole indecision issue can be beyond irritating for the poor souls stuck with me come decision time.  For the most part, I have found a way to avoid being throttled for this by avoiding decisions as much as humanly possible.  When I go out to eat, I simply find an item on the menu that I like, and order it every single time:  at the Olive Garden I always have cheese ravioli with Alfredo sauce and black tie mousse cake for dessert, at Chic-Fil-A I have a regular CFA sandwich without pickles and an order of chicken nuggets and I eat both with copious amounts of their yummy mayo, at places like Applebee’s and Ruby Tuesday and such I always have a grilled chicken sandwich or just the grilled chicken with mayo on the side, etc etc etc.  My solution to the whole hair cut dilemma, I simply tell my awesome hairstylist cousin that, other than making sure I can keep it out of my face at work and that my hair stays fairly long, she can do whatever.  Mind you, this only works because I trust her wholeheartedly and she’s awesome and such…and I no longer let anyone else cut my hair-ever.  Last time I let some stranger cut my hair, he turned out to be the bastard cousin of Edward Scissorhands or some shit and attacked my hair like a man possessed.  That evil, pompous little gay man mutilated my hair while telling me he knew exactly how my hair needed to be and pointedly ignored my repeated pleas to chill out with the flying, snipping scissors.  But I digress.  Back to decision making.  To summarize, I suck at making decisions.  A lot.  Moving on.

Daily randomosity:  My favorite items in my zombie collection are: my 2 wallets, my car bobbler Stanley, my dismember-me plush Everett Pullman (get it??? hehehehe), my gnarly bank Phillip, and all my little zombie dudes.  My zombie collection is pure awesomeness.  I have to work all weekend and the thought of all the TGIF crap I will see on Facebook and such tomorrow makes me want to throttle everyone I may encounter tomorrow.  I really hate when I go through my daily suddenly-on-the-brink-of-passing-out-’cause-I’m-so-tired-all-of-the-sudden crap.  I’m trying to type and watch this crime show, and me eyes keep closing of their own accord, I doze off for, literally, 5 seconds, jerk awake, then start all over again.  It lasts from 20 minutes to a couple hours, and it is always about half-way through my day/night.  It makes no difference how much sleep I have or how much I miss, this annoying sleepy crap happens all the damn time.  I really wish Dart would stop rubbing his face against my laptop–it is disconcerting to watch.  Rat-shit-bat-shit-dirty-old-twat-sixty-nine-assholes-tied-in-a-knot-hooray-lizard-shit-fuck…proof that George Carlin was hilarious.  I think it would be wise for me to avoid bungee-jumping and sky-diving and socializing and other dangerous activities.  I am absolutely positive that, though I would likely survive these sorts of things, I would be the person whose bungee cord broke or whose parachute didn’t open or who accidentally says the wrong thing to the wrong person.  Inevitably, things would not end well for me with activities of this sort.  


Bye and whatnot…  


2 thoughts on “Once Upon A Blog

  1. Tom

    I’ve always wondered how one would tie 69 assholes into a knot. It has puzzled me greatly, to the point of distraction at times. Wouldn’t it require some type of medical instrumentation to work with something that small and intractable? Speaking of small and intractable, isn’t that a perfect description of those assholes that we meet on a regular basis? I never really considered that…


    • Well. it’s my understanding that assholes are, in fact, rather stretchy and springy and such. While I have absolutely, positively not even the minutest desire to attempt tying 69 of them in a knot, we will just have to assume that some whack-a-doodle scientist has, in fact, done so for reasons we simply cannot comprehend.


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