Kablammo!
Scorch with dragon flame! Bahamut!
I’m not normally the type
September 9, 2003I’m not normally the type to fill a blog entry with song lyrics, but here goes.
You are every bit a soldier
I won’t forget you too soonYou’ve got pies in the oven
All across the sea
I’m just here fighting for our liberty
That and a cold glass of beer
That’s why I’m here…
Ships at bay
I tattooed an anchor right beside your name
An anchor so sure that I won’t float away
It’s under my uniform sleeve
It’s there till I leave
Perhaps I’ll explain why I put the above lyrics in this blog later in this [or some subsequent] entry. For the time being, however, I’ve decided that I haven’t filled enough space here complaining about various forms of drama in my life. I mean, I’m falling behind the blog curve here!
As I was saying, if you’re afraid you don’t loathe yourself enough, just write an email to a good friend of yours while she’s asleep in the next room. In the email, be an ass and make it clear that you loathe yourself and that you know full well that you’re being an ass. Be sure not to state anything that could possibly help any matter at all, ever. With any luck, you’ll have ruined a perfectly good friendship and given yourself a fairly robust reason to loathe yourself in the future. Bonus points: act perfectly normal in the morning. Double bonus points: mention in the email that your normal act in the morning will have been just an act. Triple bonus points: write all about it in your shitty blog, treat it in a flippant manner, and don’t act the least bit sincere or apologetic.
Perhaps it’s the case that I’ve been the agent of my own undoing every time I’ve been undone in my life. If it’s not the case, it hasn’t been for lack of trying. You know, maybe I enjoy ruining things simply because I’m afraid of happiness. I mean, I enjoy the fleeting forms of happiness as much as the next guy, forms like drinking myself stupid, reading the Onion, or making sure [KF] never talks to me again in her life, but maybe there’s some kind of more meaningful form of happiness out there. If so, it must be for suckers.
For the record, I’m damn sorry I’m such a jerk to you, myself, and everyone else in the world. Also, I hope at least one person on Earth has some idea what this is all about, so it looks slightly less insane.
Edited, 15 Nov. 2009: KF’s name removed upon request.
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sorry, you're still insane for now. but i think i might update my blog really soon. maybe.
and who is this young lady that you spoke of?
I cannot help you much with any sanity related issues for reasons that should be obvious. As for happiness, there might be more to it than alcoholism, masochism, and schadenfreude. But hey, let me know if you want to talk about your midlife crisis and/or female problems, so we can have a conversation that will make us both feel really fucking gay.
Yeah well [KF] doesn't talk to me anymore, either (or is it the other way around?)