I’m a little worried these days.
This is going to sound like an insanely stupid problem, but here goes. I’ve been biking to work every day for over six months. Here in Chicago it’s getting close to hanging up the bike shorts (I have never worn bike shorts) for the season. Winter is coming.
If you have a blog you have a Twitter account.
Earlier this month I crossed over thirty thousand Twitter followers. I’ve learned quite a bit about Twitter, having followers, and what it all means for me. And even though I shamefully bought my first few thousand friends, I earned every subsequent one fair and square. Twitter has become my main source of blog traffic according to my analytics.
I went out today to buy a cat-pee tarp.
My cat Pantaloons has a problem with inappropriate elimination. I’ve written about it on this blog at least a dozen times. Over the years I’ve tried a number of solutions including rubbing Prozac in her ears. Every so often, no matter what, she pees on my comforter or clothes left on the ground. After a lot of research online I’ve determined that this is probably just a brain glitch that can’t be corrected. If I’m wrong and one day I find a solution, awesome.
I’m supposed to be at a Halloween party right now.
It’s being hosted by one of my favorite people, the lead singer of our band. There’s a few issues, however. One, he lives about sixty minutes away from where my place. Next, I don’t have a good costume. Third, I’m exhausted.
One of the best parts of drinking and drugs is those moments where, while inebriated, you finally “figure things out.”
Since I don’t drink or use drugs those moments come to me as I fall asleep. I’ll give you an example. Last night I was feeling some fear. No particular reason, but as I was drifting off I noticed I was scared about life in general. I was becoming less conscious by the moment, and the fear continued to intensify. This was kind of cool to notice, but also not fun.
Normally I don’t write much about my personal life.
There are certain boundaries I set in my writing to maintain some semblance of privacy. I haven’t shared about the time I had triplets and sold them to the circus. I couldn’t believe you could still do that, by the way. In 2008, no less! Also, I never wrote about the time I got into a fistfight with my grandmother because she totally wasn’t being cool. Oh, and I felt the need to quiet that whole “keeping several mistresses” thing. Those gals are crazy!
Tonight I asked you what I should write about. Here’s what you bozos suggested.
First, I don’t think goth chicks get out on the open sea much. And, if so, I don’t think they’re big fans of crab fishing and eating kelp and stuff. I will say though, that their black eyeliner would make them look like pirates.
My nap addiction has finally made me hit bottom. Literally.
Tonight, after feasting on too much pizza, I sat on my couch working on the computer. My couch is long and comfortable and a great place to fall asleep. I’m not someone who sleeps anywhere but a bed, however it’s the kind of couch where you could, if you wanted, pass out.
I'll never give this child another cigarette, pinky swears!
