Today I spent some time wandering around the blogosphere during my lunch minute. And I was amazed by what I read, for somehow that path I chose was one of self-reveals, confessions, and 'outings' of misdeeds. I'm not certain I can get my head around the kind of balls it takes to be so 'real' in front of people who 1) are mostly strangers, and 2) are allowed to comment on the confessed behavior. If anything, I'd turn those comments off even before I put the first word on the screen if I were to dig any deeper into my psyche than the crusty outer layer that's presented here.
Those people who do reveal are amazing. Foolhardy or brave, it doesn't matter. Airing their issues in front of anyone who chooses to read, fully aware that some of those people will hate them for what they've done, is way off the map for this writer. What compells someone to DO that kind of thing? Especially, as I saw more than once today, on what is generally a humor blog...
'Cuz really, isn't that what secret blogs are for?
-------------------------------------
I'm in the process of changing my last name as a result of the matrimony thing that happened oh, about 6 MONTHS ago. I told Biff that I would, and it's about time I got off my dimpled ass and did it. Last week was the inaugural visit to the Social Security Admin, a 90-minute slice of my life I'll never get back, and this afternoon perhaps I'll wander down to the DMV to see what tribulations I can endure there.
Once done with that, there are only about 100 other things in my 'other' name that need to be changed to my shiny new name. Passport, mortgage, insurance, utilities, magazine subscriptions, bank accounts, credit cards, checks, work ID,...did I leave anything out?
This is one time it might be nice to be a boy. Their names, by and large, do NOT change. For nothin'.
--------------------------------------
Random item you probably don't need to know about me #alphadeltabrazilian:
There's a patch of hair on the back of my head that refuses to grow more than about 6 inches long. This is troublesome, as I'm in the process of growing my hair out, and the dichotomy of mostly-long locks combined with this one stupid hunk of half-length hair is odd.
My theory is that it gets sheard off when I'm sleeping by the vigorous head-tossings that occur during the epic dreams I have most every night. Like a baby rubbing a bald spot on the back of it's head, you know?
Either that, or I'm GOING bald. That would not be a good look for me; my noggin is HUGE and misshapen. There's no way it would look good all shiny and smooth. So, dream-induced hair loss it is!
You, in the back. Shut up.
--------------------------------------
Lastly....the SlimQuick 7-day 'cleanse' is....working? Ahem?
Four fiber pills before lunch and 4 more at bedtime will turn even the most humble of gastrointestinal tracts into a bleating, braying, gahoodling horn-tooter.
You should do this for the SOUNDS ALONE, people. The intended effect of enhanced poopery is there, of course, but for pure entertainment value I'd say the audibles are what's really worth the 15 clams you need to shell out. When you can scare the dog with the simple act of digestion, you KNOW you've hit on a winner.
---------------------------------------
That's it for now - must go get ready to brave the lines at Ye Olde Dee Ehm Vee. Whee!
No comments:
Post a Comment